More Riveting Vacay Pics to Come...

...but until then...here are the kids at basketball camp:

{with our BFF Zach}

They are in HEAVEN hoopin' it up this week. Lilly is the only girl and the youngest one there, but she handled it like a champ.

The hoops are 10 feet high and she's used to shooting on an 8 footer.

My mama bear instincts wanted to panic and talk to the coaches to make sure everything was ok.

But instead I kissed her, told her to have a great time, play hard, and prayed for 3 solid hours that she would know God was with her if things felt tough.

And she loved it!

Supastar!

Have you ever wondered what it's like to live with Mary Katherine Gallagher??

I don't.

{She borrowed the camera.}

High jumps on the tramp make her face break out in crazy squiggles.


She works on stunts and mid-air poses. And makes her friends watch. And makes her mom take pictures.

Last night she went to a sleepover. Backpack bulging, I asked Lilly what she packed.

After listing ten items, there was no mention of a) clothes, b) toothbrush, or c) sleeping bag.

But I bet they had fun.


Maybe an SNL career in her future. Here's to sight gags.

Bird update: They're driving me nuts since they only want to lay there in a big fur ball. I want them to move around and show some beak. Not happening. I'll post pics soon.

Clearly I Am The One Who's Confused

So before swimming lessons this afternoon, Lilly was struggling to get ready in time to leave.

Couldn't find her swimsuit. {Had it on yesterday.}

Couldn't find her flops. {I could see them while she declared them missing.}

Kept stopping to read instead of actually changing into clothes. {Not to discourage reading or anything, but there's a time and a place.}

So my blood pressure skyrocketed and my veins bulged.

Sometimes instead of actually losing my temper, I talk about hypothetically losing my temper and it seems to calm me down.

Eh-hem.

"Lilly, if you are not in the car with Jackson and me in two minutes, I will be IRATE and that is the most serious form of anger I can think of and I guarantee you will not be pleased with the consequences."

{Doesn't that sound calming?}

Well somehow, she got into the car and it didn't end up to be a very big deal.

Five seconds of silence.

"Mom, do you have some flour and a balloon? Not the kind of flowers you plant but the kind of flour you make cookies with?"

"'Yes' on the flour, 'no' on the balloon."

"Because today at show-and-tell, Siena, a girl in my class, said you can put flour inside the balloon and make a cool ball that you can squeeze whenever you get irate or even just really mad."

"What about if my darling kids just obey the first time so then I don't have to get irate?"

Taking no time to consider that idea: "I think you'd really like the balloon."

Guess I'll be stopping by the party store.

I'd Even Do it Again

Last week I faced one of my most hated foes: THE ZOO.

Even people who have accidentally brushed past me in a Starbucks can immediately sense that I am not a zoo lover.

My intense dislike of animals, coupled with their poop, heat, small children, gigantic strollers, and an obscenely long commute make the zoo somewhere I only go under duress. Picture me bound and gagged in the back of a white industrial van and you'll get the idea.

Last year, I took one for the preschoolers, thinking it would be my chance to bid a permanent farewell to the zoo and it's inhabitants. Perhaps I was even cheerful for a moment or two, thinking I'd never again have to pretend to be enthralled by sleeping zebras.

{Just so you don't think I'm totally heartless, I DO love to ride the carousel while secretly pretending to be Mary Poppins.}

Well, as you can tell from the peacock that cornered me and forced me to take his picture, I had to go to the zoo. Again. There is a lot of pressure as a kindergarten parent to be excited(!) and involved(!) and there is pretty much a 1:1 ratio of kids to parents at every.single.event.

So here's where I can be honest and say that it was unverbalized kindergarten parent peer pressure that forced me to go.

Plus, this is where I should probably confess some recent parental neglect in the last two weeks.

Act 1: Egg Drop Day Apparently every child had a lovingly packaged egg to drop off the roof except Lilly.

Act 2: Pajama Day Apparently every child wore their pajamas to school except Lilly.

(And her friend, Audrey. It's important to pick other neglectful parents for friends.)

At this point you can probably determine that going to the zoo was non-negotiable if I didn't want to be black listed this early in her school career.

So I went.

Praise God they give parents an option where you can get a nice grande Starbucks and meet the bus down there instead of actually riding on it. That would've taken a whole different level of commitment and medication.

And as you can imagine, the zoo was very zoo-like. Smelly, crowded, sticky, 15-minute lines for bathrooms, eating hot sack lunches while geese wander at your feet...the whole bit.

But fast-forward to bedtime.

"Lilly, what was your favorite thing at the zoo?"

"I don't know..." (She was clearly exhausted from the final sprint where I raced 6 little girls through the reptile house in five minutes so we wouldn't miss the bus.)

"Was it Cranberry, that polar bear who just had surgery and we could see the scar where all of his fur was shaved?"

"No."

"Was it the rhino with bed sores from laying down twenty hours a day in his old age?"

"No."

"Was it the snakes? The baby giraffe? The cookies?"

"No."

Honestly, despite her slow recall of zoo-amazingness, I wasn't even bitter since I took care to notice and express thanks that I wasn't pushing a stroller or changing diapers during the visit. The conversation with a tableful of kindergarten girls was actually fun and we only had one hair-related emergency.

"Mama?"

"Yes, baby."

"My favorite part of the zoo was just wandering around with you."

Gulp. Sigh. Wince. Flinch. STAB. (Did I leave any out?)

It's one thing for me to know that the only reason I'm went on this field trip was for Lilly.

It's an entirely different thing for her to realize already that what she really loves is spending time together.

Even though we didn't lock arms and do the Wizard of Oz skip through the zoo or hold hands while determining if the boa constrictor could, in fact, eat a 6 year-old, it mattered.

Luckily Lilly had forgiven me for the egg drop fiasco and hadn't taken pajama day too hard.

But I spent some extra time thanking Jesus that I could go to the zoo. I selfishly forgot that I am blessed beyond words to have the most precious gift of all...time. The days and years are flying by faster than ever, and my time is the best gift I can give.

Because these are the golden years.

She's Going to Be 30 in 24 Years

Here is the deal: I am not nearly old enough to have a six year-old little girl.

Oh, who am I kidding...of course I am...but that is neither here nor there. What I mean is that in my mind, Lilly is still a newborn infant, delivered three days before Christmas bringing instant smiles to all of us.

(Especially me...considering she was a miniscule little 7 pounder--a welcome relief on the heels of her Ten Pound Andre-the-Giant Brother.)

Thankfully, she LOVES have a birthday near Christmas time.

She is pretty sure all those lights and decor in your yard are for her.

She makes us laugh--the sight gags, the DRAMA, and the creative storytelling that always makes her look like a superstar to the detriment of her brother.

Her cheeks are still kissable, her thumb (occasionally) suckable, and her snaggleteeth? Adorable.

I want her to grow up.

AND.

I want her to stay little forever.

There's going to be a lot of celebrating today...the streamers, Going Bonkers, ice skating, and a VERY SERIOUS chocolate cake.

And if I take any blurry pictures, I'll be sure to post them soon.

Can I Get an "Om, Om"

For those of you who aren't "Kung Fu Panda" devotees, Lilly is emulating Master Shi Fu.

I think.

Ready for the Weekend

Three cheers for my mom for saving these amazing Days of the Week barrettes.

Actually, I think they were accidentally shoved in an old mini-suitcase of doll clothes, but that is pretty much my current storage system, so....right on, Mom!

Disclaimer: If Lilly falls and lands on her head, the barrette and all of it's 1980's metal parts will immediately puncture her head and she'll bleed profusely, while her screams embarrass me and echo through the neighborhood.

But that's a fashion risk we're going to take.

Her Post-Graduation Plans Include Kindergarten

For those of you who've been following all 7 times I've blogged this past year, you know that Lilly is wrapping up her senior year of preschool.

Since I am a firm believer that preschool is for the parents, she's been enrolled since she was so young that she used to suck her thumb.

Oh, wait.

She still does.

Anywho, last night at Kindergarten Round-Up we were assured she wouldn't be flying solo when we saw lots of other thumb-suckers in the crowd. (Not including the infant siblings of future Golden Retrievers.)

{Yes. The neighborhood elementary mascot is the Golden Retriever.}

{They let the children decide.}

{Obviously.}

{Don't even get me started.}

Anyway, the saddest part of the graduation was that Charlie's Angels had their last hurrah together before parting ways for kindergarten.

Luckily, their mothers are good friends and they will still probably see each other all the time anyway.

Plus, we've planned to get together and make milkshakes for ourselves the girls SOON.

For Lilly's graduation gift (oh yes, we go all the way), I pulled out a Target giftcard she'd received for her birthday six months ago and told her that it was my deepest privilege to take her shopping.

Elated, we headed for the toy aisle where Lilly selected a commemorative set of Barbie walkie-talkies.

Then I ordered a gold "Graduation 2009" plate that we'll adhere to the walkie-talkies so that when Lilly lacks confidence one day, she can look back at her accomplishments and press on.

Or at least she can radio Skipper to come over and devour a bowl of cookie dough with her.

 

Or maybe she'll radio her mom, because eating cookie dough everyday is pretty much my gig anyway.

Y'all, I Could Not Script This Stuff

Alternate Title: Um, Hi. It's Been Awhile.

Alternate Title II: We did not rehearse this. 

Alternate Title III: My Dainty Princess

I am Too Sick to Think of a "Wizard of Oz" Pun, But if I Could, I'd Put it Here

Lucky for all of you, The Plague of Sickness and Near Death germs aren't communicable via internet, so you are safe.

I, on the other hand, am nearly two weeks in and wondering if I will be around to see 2010.

At this point, I would say chances are slim.

Just to clearly paint the picture, I made this cake and didn't eat any because I didn't feel like it.

Brad is checking all distinguishing characteristics to make sure a body double hasn't invaded.

(I heard the cake was great, so you'll have to try it sometime.)

Part of my preface is to preemptively apologize for the terribleness of the following narrative.

I am running low on wit and frivolity, so it may read with the excitement of a History Channel documentary on UFO's rather than a crisp and clever SportCenter recap.

However, Dorothy isn't featured much on ESPN.

And neither is the Yellow Brick Road.

Or the Ghetto Brick Road, as it soon came to be known.

It started out 100 feet long and winding beautifully through the front yard.

About 10 minutes later, hurricane strength gusts (seriously. just ask the Denver meteorological team), blew the Yellow Brick Road all over my front yard.

So we shortened it and then Karen injured her foot on it badly enough to warrant x-rays.

But that is either here nor there.

(Karen might feel differently, but moving on...)

Know where to buy a pair of red, classy, sparkly pumps?

The spray paint aisle at Home Depot.

And in case you need some witchy tights for prom this spring, just get some white ones at Wal-Mart and wrap black electrical tape around them.

Toto sitting in a bed of poisonous poppies was a great centerpiece:

And the cake...

I wasn't super-pleased, but there were NO fabulous ideas out there.

Trying to combine "Somewhere over the Rainbow" and the poppies was tough. But the kids woofed it right down anyway.

I had fun throwing a piece of blue and white gingham fabric down for a tablecloth. I cut it to fit and used packing tape to secure it to the table.

Who needs Martha?

You'll have to look up close to see the ruby slipper cookies. I have no idea how they tasted, but they were darn cute.

Oh, and if you were here, I'd offer you a Glinda's magic wand.

(Pretzel rod dipped in white chocolate, rolled in edible white glitter.)

The kids probably would've eaten white crayons if I made 'em all cute, but I went with pretzels anyway.

Favor bags, yo.
While the girls were outside inspecting the deceased Wicked Witch of the East, the rockstar party helpers scurried all the presents upstairs.

After we settled back in, I whipped out a note from the Wicked Witch, saying that she'd taken the presents and Toto, and we'd have to complete three adventures showcasing our brains, heart, and courage to get them back.

Y'all.

Apparently a career in dramatic storytelling is in my future, because I accidentally made a few of the girls cry at the thought of facing the Witch.

Oops.

They recovered, then showcased their fabulous brains by finishing a Wizard of Oz maze.

(Glinda was keeping them safe, thank goodness.)

Next, we pinned the heart on the Tin Man.

Then the kids courageously braved a tornado to rescue some treasure.

I had visions of a huge tornado swirling from the ceiling fan, but after the Witch scare, I'm glad we went with a smaller dust devil, powered by the ol' box fan.

Lastly, the kids had to get the witch's broomstick.

A few of the kids didn't want to brave the witch's lair in the basement, even when I PROMISED them that she wasn't actually down there.

But these girls were strong-willed.

Lilly grabbed that broom and rode it around.

(Have you ever noticed that in the movie, the WW doesn't actually get on the broom to ride it? It's more of a side-saddle approach coupled with terrible special effects.)

Broomstick in hand, witch melted, we headed upstairs to the Emerald City:

Hopefully everyone's imaginations were at full strength since it wasn't overly Emeraldy.

But hey, the presents and Toto were there, so that was all good.

Even better was the cake:

And frankly, there are about 100 other pictures I could show you, but I have to go die.

I'm Not Hyperventilating...I'm Just Breathing Really Quick For Fun

Nothing in me can believe it's been five years since I brought home the best Christmas present ever.

That's right...my teeny, tiny, newborn infant turns 5 today.

When did all this growing up happen?

She was always a little silly and wild.

Daily, she reminds me that parenting is the most humbling job.

And most rewarding.

And it makes me cry more than anything else in this world.

Do you know what I love about her?

She is the exact same today as she was the day she was born.

From her first smile, her first silly face, and her first tears...nothing is different.

I'm including a lot of profile pictures because her cheeks? They are edible.

It seems like years ago and yesterday that she got her big girl bed. And MY, she was excited.

Probably because she wasn't actually a big girl.

And here?

Do you see how that cheek just dangles from her face?

YUM.

Another trait (inherited, unfortunately) that I love about Lilly is that she's a mess.

(That's not Sharpie on her teeth--just some black frosting from a soccer ball cake.)

When I pictured having a little girl, I thought it would be days of dress-up, twirling, and ballet.

Um, not so much.

It may be all of those things some day, but for now she's more into weapons and burping and coloring and playing waitress and reading and The Wizard of Oz and being my precious sidekick while Jackson is at school.

She's been growing up as I literally hold her hand, and yet I look back through pictures longing to return--just for a moment--to the days when she toddled around and spoke her first word (it was "hi").

The adventure, the spunk, and even the occasional seriousness are all parts of her that I love.

It is hard to pull off sophistication and thumb-sucking all at once.

But if there's one girl who can do it...it's Lilly.

We've let her plan a full day of celebrating, so we're off to breakfast.

Did I mention that I love her to death?

I'm going to have my pancakes with a side of precious, 5 year-old cheeks.