...Friday night at about 11 p.m., I decided to surprise Clara with tickets to the 11 a.m. Saturday show of Crozen on Ice. If you aren't Clara, you probably call it Frozen on Ice.
We got there at 10:00 a.m. and found out our tickets were for the, uh, 2:30 p.m. show.
It actually worked in our favor because once Clara saw all the other girls at the arena in their Elsa dresses...
Well, she had to have one.
So we went to Target, the mall, lunch. And then back for the 2:30 p.m. show.
...and our $25 commemorative photo.
She couldn't wait.
She was amazed.
And then there was me. The former competitive figure skater. Thinking the whole time, "I could've done this." (Especially when Prince Hans fell on his double axle), and then taking a moment to enjoy my $13 cotton candy.
And then it was over and Clara said, "I want to see that again. Right now. Right now. RIGHT NOW!"
We'll always have the memories. And the $25 commemorative picture.
...you rose early, as you always do at the beach. You had a pretty rotten cold and as daddy was walking out the door to get your birthday donut, you yelled in your scratchiest eighty-year-old voice, "Don't forget my coooofffffeeeee." (It's hot chocolate but we don't tell you that).
...we spent the morning at the Salisbury Zoo. It was small, uncrowded, and manageable. Perfect.
...After Charlie's fifth birthday extravaganza, I swore I would never have a birthday at our house. Again. So, for Clara's party we hosted a small group at our town's Arts Council for a Hello Kitty Dance Party. The children (and a lot of the moms) did zumbini for 45 minutes, the kids ate pizza and cupcakes, and an hour and forty-five minutes later, it was over. Perfect.
Charlie is spending the week at Ammy and Poppy's. (And let me tell you, we could all use a week at Ammy and Poppy's...trips to the beach...pizza...ice cream...the Lego Movie delivered to your bedside at 6 a.m. the morning it came out).
Clara and I don't get a lot of one-on-one time. And dear lord, is one child so much easier than two. It's like a vacation all on its own.
We started our day by sending mail to our favorite camper.
After a latte, we were back to our traditional hiding-from-the-ENT-ness.
Then it was on to Trader Joe's. Ahhh, one child, no fighting over who gets to push the miniature shopping cart (or calf weapon, in my children's case).
She purchased Jojos, squeeze fruits, and pasta. That covers all the food groups.
Pit stop for some tomato soup.
Then home for a tea party, shower, pedicure, and some Sophia watching.
Then it was Clara's turn. She grabbed one of our old point and shoot cameras and went to town.
She captured an afternoon FaceTime session with Charlie.
Gracie's crazy eyes.
...and mommy and daddy.
Then there was a little catalog-shopping for her big-girl bed.
Wrapped up the night with some fajita-eating and then off to bed.
She is delightfully chaotic; a beautiful mess. Loving her is a splendid adventure. - Steve Maraboli
...My birthday gift to Ken (back in February) was tickets to the Orioles versus Indians game last weekend (Ken grew up in Cleveland, and since we are all gluttons for punishment, we've all become Ohio sports fans. They never fail to amaze disappoint us).
The kids were remarkably into it, considering it was about 120 degrees in the sun. At least the Orioles fans behaved themselves and no one threw a hot dog at us. Charlie particularly enjoyed all the clapping. Clara particularly enjoyed all the food.
At the bottom of the sixth, we were all done (including the Indians).
In all honesty, the train ride to and from the game was probably the highlight of both kiddos days.
...We'll call this one "What you do when your husband, 50 percent of your manpower, is gone for six whole days and six whole nights."
1. You rise before the sun, before the children, before the dog to prepare yourself for the day ahead
2. You try to follow the rule of new parenthood to, "Nap when they nap." But instead of napping you spend 45 minutes laying in bed thinking about all you could have accomplished with those precious 45 minutes. You fall asleep five minutes before you hear your child screaming, with drool down your chin and sheet marks across your forehead. It was a hard five minutes.
3. You try to explain the difference between Gracie and Charmer to a friend when it finally hits you: Charmer was a person. Gracie is a dog. Charmer never liked other dogs, Gracie does. Charmer never chased her tail. Gracie does this to find her tail (she swears it's in there somewhere):
4. You take snapshots and send a ridiculous amount of pictures to your husband. This is not meant as a guilt trip. At all.
5. You take your kids to swimming and send ridiculous amounts of videos to your husband. This is not meant as a guilt trip. At all.
6. You write lists, cross things off, get things done.
7. The highlight of your week is not successfully single parenting two children, keeping the dog alive, and not setting the house on fire, or planning one of your biggest work events, or turning 35, but rather when your local farmer's "Our Tomatoes" sign pops up on Wednesday. Let the cheese and tomato sandwich season begin.
8. You spy on your little boy visiting Kindergarten. Kindergarten.
10. You rejoice when your little family reunites to celebrate the success of Team Mustache and all those who supported us.