a frozen christmas

It just so happens that the children and I were invited to a Christmas party at the retirement community--I call it the "Old Folks Home," but Alex thinks that's insensitive...I guess he's right--where Alex's stepmother's mother lives (you got that?). And it also just so happens that the theme of the aforementioned Christmas Party was Frozen. Being young girls of five and three respectively, Scout and Tillie decided it was necessary to wear their Frozen dresses to the Frozen party. When we arrived and just so happened to end up in the elevator with the real Anna and Elsa (or at least the Anna and Elsa hired for the party), I realized the girls were on to something. When in doubt, dress like the entertainment.

I tried having a Frozen moment of our own before we left for the party, but you can guess how that worked out (cooperative middle child excluded):

giggles and smiles

Here's what you forget when you go to Disney World: that time you waited in line for 125 minutes to ride Soarin'; when your seven year-old threw the temper tantrum of his life because all you wanted was a decent picture of the three children in front of the Tree of Life (see last picture, below); when you screamed so loud you gave yourself a splitting headache because you did not know that Rock 'N Roll Roller Coaster started out like that; the moment it was clear a three, five and seven year-old do not make good teammates on a scavenger hunt through Germany (Disney Germany, not the real Germany).

Here is what you remember when you go to Disney World: laughing hysterically with your children because Tower of Terror is really scary; talking to monkeys and other wild animals on a safari adventure (where a baby giraffe, of all things, held up traffic for a few minutes); seeing the joy in Tillie's eyes when she discovers she's exactly 40 inches; having your son lead you around the park because he can actually read a map; waking every morning to a new adventure; going to sleep each night exhausted yet exhilarated.

 

awkward family photo awards

And the winner of this year's Disney World awkward family photos are:

Winner: Best use of a giant Christmas tree to get your three year-old to hide from the camera.

Winner: Best use of a fake Eiffel Tower  to get your three year-old to show you how she really feels.

Winner: Best use of fake Eiffel Tower to showcase each child's personality. 

Winner: Best use of giant golf ball (or whatever it is) to remind us the three year-old is running the show.

Winner: When siblings hug, someone's eyes are going to close.

Winner: Stand here and act as serious as possible if your name is Tillie or Alex.

Winner: Never be afraid to let your true feelings show (if you're a three year-old or a goofy second grader).

Winner: Act like you've been here...a really, really long time.

Winner: This is the last family photo I will ever attempt on this bridge (at least until next year).

Winner: Princesses make three year-olds smile.

Winner: Princesses really make three year-olds smile!!

mooned by a silverback

I may have taken more pictures of this silverback gorilla on our trip to Disney World than I did of our own children. Although he could, in theory, rip of my head with the swipe of one giant gorilla hand, he didn't talk back (like the children do) and he even put on a little show for his spectators. Check out this sequence of events and see if you can spot his silver gorilla bottom:

the last game of the season

Catcher's last soccer game was one of those days in Austin where the morning temperature was the high for the day. When we left the house at 8:30am and it was 64 degrees in our neighborhood, I had no idea there was a cold front moving in that would drop the temperature by 10 degrees when we reached our destination of a soccer field in North Austin just 20 minutes later (actually, more like 30 since I missed our exit). I'm no meteorologist, but this is how the weather goes on such occasions: the morning starts out mild yet chilly, a crazy arctic wind blows in from somewhere, and the day gets progressively colder until you're wondering why you left the house without your hat and mittens. That is, if you even own a hat and mittens because this is Texas, after all.

Needless to say, I was underdressed in my light sweater and jean jacket--even with a scarf wrapped eight times around my neck--so I spent most of the game huddling with a group of similarly dressed, underprepared moms (yay! I wasn't the only one) instead of on the sideline documenting the last game of Catcher's first year of Junior Academy. The players were so wind-whipped and frazzled by the end of the game that I couldn't persuade anyone to take a team picture. We'll just have to rely on our memories to remind us this was the year that Catcher had a Rocket and a Boone and a Zaf on his team--a bit whacky, even by Austin standards.

belated halloween

The weather didn't cooperate on October 30th, the date the annual Lee Halloween PTA carnival was originally scheduled, so they held a make-up "Fall" Carnival last night. Even almost a month after Halloween, it's still fun to get dressed up and run around like maniacs at the school after-hours. And there's never a bad time for a cake walk (or cake run if your name is Tillie).

snapshot shenanigans

It's been a busy week in the world of preschool fundraising and PTA volunteering. So busy, in fact, I've almost forgotten we're going to Disney World next week! (I said almost.) This was Scout last Friday evening following her first "Geography Day" at school as we arrived at Catcher's soccer game. This is kind of how I've been feeling the whole week:

Tillie talks to squirrels. For real. I started this game with her at the beginning of the school year where I would ask her what the squirrels were doing on our walk home after dropping off Catcher and Scout: are the squirrels having a picnic today? What are they bringing? Are the squirrels having a meeting? Uh-oh...looks like that one is late to the meeting. It all started as a tactic to distract her from the fact that she's three and a-half and the one mile round-trip to school and back can cause aforementioned three (and a-half) year-olds to scream and yell and stomp their feet ("It's too far!"). Eventually Tillie forgot how miserable she was on these walks, and now she stops to talk to the squirrels. And sometimes she yells at them...instead of me.


Yesterday Scout emerged from her classroom dressed as such and asked me if she looked like a pilgrim. I'll leave that one up to interpretation.