Superhero Magical Princess

I know some of you may be shocked, but we occasionally (okay, frequently) have discipline issues with Allison.  Mostly, she refuses to stay in bed at night.  We’ve tried a number of different techniques to deal with it, the most recent of which I refer to as ‘mommy play-time’. 

The method is simple:  what Allison loves to do more than anything in the world is playing barbies.  If she gets ready for bed without arguing or throwing fits, she gets to have mommy play-time for 15 minutes before her bedtime story.  If she is disobedient throughout the day, we take off mommy play-time minutes.  Simple, but brilliant, if I do say so myself.  And it’s really worked wonders; Allison has been doing much better lately.

The one flaw in this plan is that I am always the one who puts Allison to bed.  We decided to correct this minor glitch by instating ‘daddy play-time’ one evening.  Allie did not take the news well.  “Oh no, not DADDY play-time!” she screamed furiously.  We stood our ground.

Five minutes later, teeth brushed and PJs on, Allison waited in her room resignedly for Chris to show up with the newest editions to his collection:  The Hulk (complete with sword and shield) and Spiderman 2099.

Despite the fact that Allison is about as girly as they come, she has had some experience with superheroes.  Her barbie box is rather lacking in the prince department, so Juggernaut and Hulk are often asked to step in.  They are invited to Balls when dance partners are needed.  They make infrequent appearances as ‘Daddy’.  I have even seen Belle rescue her husband, Juggernaut, from the evil Hulk [“Don’t worry Cinderella, I can save him. I’m BRAVE!”].  But these were not quite the games Chris had in mind for daddy play-time.

He tried to show her how the superheroes could battle it out with their weapons, but before they could start, Allison insisted upon removing Hulk’s shield [“That might poke somebody, Daddy”].  She then proceeded to select Cinderella as her action hero.  Cinderella picked up Hulk’s sword and began whacking Spiderman 2099 with it.  “Piñata! Piñata! Piñata!” yelled Allie emphatically.

Apparently, my daughter’s weaponry education has been so poor that the only thing she could think to do with something long and bat-like was re-enact the piñata portion of her third birthday party.  I won’t say I’m not pleased, and I can’t wait to hear what happens at the next daddy play-time.

Dirty Thirty

My thirtieth birthday started out earlier than I had imagined it would.  In fact, it began at precisely 3:48 am.  At first, I hoped that Allie had appeared at the foot of our bed to wish me a swift ‘happy birthday’ and that she would just walk herself on back to bed.  But this was not the day for birthday miracles.  Her bug bites were bothering her, and she wanted cream on them.  I tried to muster some sympathy from my hubby, the wonder-sleeper, but nothing doing.  He just rolled over and left me to my early morning wake up call.

It was a brief two hours later that I awoke to those four little words every parent dreads:  “I’m having an accident.”  (Yes, that was the correct tense.)  “Happy birthday,” Chris said.  Yes.  Happy birthday to me.

Fortunately, Chris made what I believe was a very wise decision and called work to tell them he wasn’t coming in.  I got to sleep in until 9 am.  Maybe it was a day for birthday miracles after all.

I had already planned on taking the girls to our playgroup’s end of summer pool party, but with Chris off work, I was able to leave Nicole with him.  Allie and I packed up all of our swimming gear and headed to Happy Trails Ranch.  (Seriously.  I think King Candy must have swept in and named everything here.)  Anyway, I spent the afternoon of my 30th poolside, relaxing in the sun and watching my big grown up girl swim around in the pool all by herself.  Well, all by herself but for her purple life jacket, her ducky float, and a couple of noodles.  Sheer bliss.

When Allison had finally swam herself out, we packed up and went home to a happy, rested baby and daddy.  But my birthday was not all fun and games.  Oddly, the laundry had not done itself in my absence, and I had to play the birthday card not once, but THREE times to get out of changing diapers.

With just an hour or so before we were planning to meet friends for dinner, Allison decided to take a nap.  I used to be thrilled every time she would sleep during the day, giving me a much needed break.  However, she is such a nightmare to put to bed on days she naps now that I’ll usually try anything to get her to stay awake.  We propped her up on the couch and yelled her name loudly, but it was all in vein.  Allie, spawn of wonder-sleeper, was out.

Thankfully, she wakes up slightly faster than her daddy, especially when birthday cake is involved.  We managed to make it to the restaurant just a few minutes late.  We ate at The Island Crab Bar and Grill, a little place down the road with mediocre food, a fantastic view, and decadent triple chocolate mouse cake, the latter of which was brought to me free of charge by a group of 10 or so waiters and waitresses.  They stomped their feet and clapped their hands so vigorously that poor little Nicole, who is afraid of dogs, cats, and even Allison’s fake kitty, Lulu, burst into tears.  She was truly terrified.  I would have picked her up out of her high chair to comfort her, but my cake was there and I wanted to be able to use both of my hands.  To my credit, I shared.

After we got home and Chris put the kids to bed, we made Amaretto Sours and watched the movie, “Limetless.”  A perfect ending to a perfect day.  So far, my 30s are going swimmingly.

The view from The Island

On marriage...

On Marriage...

Allie was sitting on our recliner, looking up at our wedding photo.  “You look pretty in your dress, Mommy.”  She asked if I still had my beautiful dress.  I told her I did, but that it was all clean and put away in a box in case she might like to wear it one day if she decided to get married.  “I already decided to marry my daddy,” she announced.

I stifled a snort of laughter and broke the bad news, “Honey, you can’t marry Daddy.  Men can only marry one person [at a time], and I already married him.”

Allison truly looked like she was about to cry, “But then who may I marry, Mommy?!?”

Tattoos and Sleepovers

Allison and her friend Evelyn have been having sleepovers since they were two years old.  Allie stayed at Evelyn’s (under the supervision of super-mom, Carrie, of course) when we had Nicole, so we did a trial run before the big day to make sure everything would go smoothly.  It did.  Since then, the girls have begged us bi-weekly for more, more, and MORE sleepovers.  And Carrie and I have obliged.  Because if there is one thing better than a night off from bedtime duties, it’s having a live-in playmate for your social butterfly.  Nobody ever begs me to play barbies on sleepover nights.

Last night, we had the great pleasure of having Evelyn at our house.  The girls colored in Allie’s My Little Pony coloring book and made christmas cookies with play-dough.  They shared a bowl of Teddy Grams while they sat next to each other watching a movie.  They played pretend, they played dress up.  They painted their toenails purple, their favorite color aside from pink.  And then they got BFF tattoos.

Here’s to little girls:  may their friends always be forever, and may their tattoos always be temporary.

Funny Face

If I had a dime for every time I was out with Nicole and a random stranger told me, “Your baby is making the funniest face,”  we could retire early.  Every time we go to the grocery store, the park, the bounce house, etc, I wait for the inevitable tap on my shoulder:

“Excuse me, miss.  I just had to tell you; your baby is making the funniest face!”  And I know that it’s true.  Because one of these strangers actually took a picture before tapping me on the shoulder.  “I promise I will delete this, but I just had to show you!  Look at her face!”

I call it Nicole’s ‘stranger’ face.  It’s the look she gives people she doesn’t know, and I have to admit, it is a little funny.  She lets her mouth hang open slightly and sticks her tongue out a bit.  Her eyes get very big and she scrunches up one side of her nose.  I wish I had a picture, because words just hardly do it justice.  Next time someone hidden camera stalks us, I will be sure to have them send the picture to me before deleting it.

Nicole's "I know you!" Face

Second star on the right and straight on 'til morning

When you are pregnant with your first child, you carefully save little mementos for your baby-to-be.  The first sonogram pictures.  Maybe the cards people sent at your baby shower.  The baby arrives and you continue collecting treasures: baby’s first hospital picture.  The footprints and handprints.  You think about how cute all of these items will look in the baby book you have already purchased and can’t wait to start.

Then you take baby home.  If you are like me, all of the carefully accrued mementos stay neatly filed, waiting for you to get a spare moment between all the feedings, diaper changes, laundry and naps.  Suddenly, three years have gone by and your baby isn’t a baby anymore. 

The baby book is still empty, which is fine because now you have two kids.  And since you are no longer a new parent, you’ve got it all figured out, and you’ll have plenty of time to relax and work on baby books.  Except, it turns out that as a parent, you never have it all figured out.  The chaos that comes with a family of three is nothing compared to the chaos of a family of four.  And for us, all the beautiful/intense/exhausting/delightful chaos started right here on Happyland Road.

I kid you not.  We live on Happyland Road.  It’s just past Gumdrop Valley.  Take a left by the Peppermint Forest, second star on your right and straight on ‘til morning.  Okay, I may be exaggerating a tad.

Anyway, in an attempt to preserve some of the moments I’d swear I’d never forget, I am starting an online baby book in the form of this blog.  Maybe not so much a baby book, but a family book.  Or life book.  Because parenting is the ride of a lifetime, and in twenty years I hope to look back and remember it all with a smile and a laugh.  Hopefully a ‘haha, that was funny’ kind of laugh.  Not a maniacal-one-step-away from crazy kind of laugh.  But only time will tell.