ZOID

Naomi has a little mortar board that she sported last Thursday as she graduated from preschool in a wild not-quite-ceremony at a local park (an event I missed on account of being in Arizona). The kids' hats were made of white paper, and each kid decorated his or her own with markers and stickers. Naomi's has a smiling heart, stars, several stickers that say "Super Job!", and something that looks like a field notebook illustration of an agave plant. I picked it up while I was clearing off the table tonight (it made it into the house after a week in the trunk of the car), and for a few moments I could not figure out why someone would have written the word "ZOID" on the side of it, in black marker. Oh wait, 2010. Yeah, that makes more sense.

Today we had some friends over for brunch, and I did rather a poor job of having my act together in time to be any kind of hostess to them. Jim made a really delicious frittata and some bacon, which vied for first place in the yummy food category. My contribution was the doughnut muffins we made once before, and they did not come out well at all, never mind the part where they took forever to bake (?). I also forgot the fruit salad I had made, until about 3/4 of the way through the meal, promised a kid an English muffin and never delivered, and put my guest in the position of jamming up toast for my children. Oh well. I need to maybe practice a bit more on the entertaining. I'm feeling rusty. We still had a nice time, and they either did as well or are super gracious and good at feigning enjoyment.

Also, Naomi did me proud by marching into the house to show off the roly poly bug she had caught and was holding in her hand. Things got a little out of hand later in the day, when she amassed a half dozen or more roly polies and created a mini-dystopian nightmare ecosystem for them in a little tupperware dish, with smooth pebbles, sorrel leaves, and absolutely scale-proof walls. There was a weird interlude where she tried to convince us to let her poke holes in a jar lid and make a home for the bugs in there, or get a caterpillar and let it turn into a chrysalis, etc., and there was actually a point where she was on the verge of throwing the kind of fit that would seem more appropriate coming from a teen whose friends were all getting cars for graduation while she was not. Then we were in the dumb position of arguing about what comprises quality of life for a roly poly bug with a five-year-old who is convinced that a roly poly bug loves her and will be broken-hearted if she releases it to the wild.

In the afternoon it was off to Vince's, an Italian joint in south Seattle (or Renton?) that puts the Old back in Old School. It has faux brick wall covering, red-checked vinyl tablecloths, red glass jar candles, lasagna, gnocchi, spumoni, chianti, and most importantly, pizza, pizza, pizza. Our friend C. turned five today, and had the maturity and discernment to request a party at Vince's. The party room was decked out, the balloon/face painting guy was talented at balloons and just so-so at face painting (and weirdly, camera shy and not shy about it). I ate a lot of pizza, helped out with some pin the tail on the donkey, got briefly hit on by a very drunk retiree when I sneaked into the bar for a glass of red, handed out some cake, and emerged from the frescoed cave of Vince's party room into a brilliant evening still blazing with sunshine. In some ways, birthday girl C. is responsible for one great aspect of the life our family enjoys now, having dearest friends nearby who share so many of our experiences. Thanks for being born, little one.

Oh, one more. The girls were tired from the sunshine and pizza and cake and high jinks, and were more than willing to snuggle up in bed for a story (only a few chapters of Doctor Dolittle left!). Muriel sat leaning on a pillow, with a blanket over her lap, and Naomi leaned around me and saw her, and said, "She looks so beautiful. But she always looks so beautiful." Hee! And what? But so cute. OK, happy Saturday. Hope the sun is back tomorrow!