Morgan has a play kitchen in the back of our real kitchen. Normally she prepares plates of fake food for us (she's quite the
nutritionist--when I was so sick in early pregnancy, she brought me an o
range, a fried egg, and a donut with the instructions "I brought you this food so that you can eat it and feel better and be happy"), lets us "munch" on them for a moment, and then snatches them back to the kitchen for a wash, rinse, and repeat. A couple weeks ago she started making cookies (while her cousins were here giving her new ideas). The last few days she's put a spin into her cookie making--she sticks the baking sheet into the oven (we don't have fake cookies, so this is purely pretend--so refreshing to me as Garrett has always been
resistant to pretending), stairs at it through the door for about ten seconds, then throws open the oven door exclaiming, "OH NO! MY
COOOOKIES!"
Apparently she can't stop burning them. Her imaginary cookies. My daughter is a lousy fake chef. She'll bring us the tray, but if we reach for one she says, "NO! You can't eat
dem! They all burned up with fire!" Last night she pulled out a "good" batch just as I walked through the back door--Troy said, "Oh, you're just in time. She's burned the last three batches." I almost wet myself. But not before enjoying a delicious cookie, fresh from the oven.
Garrett is Batman. He received extraordinary things for Christmas-a "power
gauntlet" that meekly shoots "
batarangs" about three feet, a mask, and THE WINGS. THE WINGS are worn like a backpack, and are black fabric on a black plastic frame. When the wearer pulls the GOLD ring, THE WINGS pop up. The wearer may then strut about the room, looking very cool and heroic (after all, G "only likes cool things"), before pulling the black rings which cause THE WINGS to retract. The buyers of THE WINGS did not realize until after their purchase that the span of said WINGS is just over five feet. FIVE feet. In other words, wider than he is tall. Ornaments were knocked from the tree, cups from the table,
kitties launched themselves from their perches in terror--but he learned pretty quickly to retract them before walking through a doorway.
The most fascinating thing about THE WINGS is the reactions received from adult observers. Specifically male adults. I let him wear his getup to Troy's branch's holiday party last weekend. Eyes misted over. Mouths went slack. Eyebrows made that point above the nose. Amidst a grown-up party complete with junk food,
alcohol, a pool table and Guitar Hero, the COOLEST THING EVER was my five year old. I had to threaten them that if one more man said, "Oh man, if I'D had those I'd have SO been up on the roof..."within G's earshot, I would
maim him (including my husband). But it was so sweet watching G strut around the party, demonstrating his gadgets and glowing under the admiration of so many grown-ups (he had been a little nervous about the whole thing). And Batman saved us a trip to the ER. G was sitting on a swiveling
bar stool next to me, swinging his legs and rocking side to side, and (through no fault of his own) suddenly flew out of the seat to land, sprawled face-down, at my feet. His face hit the sharp-edged foot rest of my seat, the whole ordeal absolutely terrifying him (as he would later tell me, "I cried do hard I couldn't breathe. That really scared me.") and the room full of adults witness to it. I scooped him up and ran for the bathroom, sure he'd be gushing blood, to find a mild welt over one eye--and a dent in the (thankfully) thick, squishy mask he was wearing where he'd made contact.
Thank you, Batman. Thank you.
And finally, the third child of cuteness, the baby--whom Troy felt kick for the first time Saturday night. Three lusty jabs in a row, nice payout for the many nights prior he'd spent, hand to my belly, waiting patiently through many a "Did you feel that?" "No." "How 'bout that?" "No." "That one?" "No" "Oh wait, was that it?" "No hon, sorry, just a gas bubble." And he was so happy. So I guess he's pretty cute, too.
Stay tuned for pics from Thanksgiving and Christmas!!
This was one of those Disneyland moments--Garrett and my nephew William (on his 6th attempt) were both selected for Jedi Training for the first time. Garrett spent most of the time trying to get his light saber to open and close properly but still managed to pull it out when he was the first to face Darth Vader ("Good work youngling, you didn't volunteer, but you're going first anyway!" --Jedi Master).
Mom and I were able to take my kids and my sister's two oldest (she had a test that night so they joined us the next day) to Mickey's Halloween Treat, which we've done once before-this time was noticeably more crowded, but we still had a great time (despite the unexpected horrific LA traffic that made us two hours late). It was totally worth all the work I put in on our costumes--Morgan was the belle of the ball. We were so excited to run into this particular villain right away (well, I was--Morgan not so much)
M has the Cheshire cat riding on her back--the scarecrow yelled out, "Oh MY! What have you done to the poor Cheshire cat?!?! You've stuffed him and turned him into a backpack!!"
It was so fun, I've always wanted to go to D-Land dressed as Alice, and this is the only time they allow adults to don costumes. I did not make G's costume, he picked it out-but we did find those kickin' inflatable wings at a party store, which were WAY more cool than the ones it came with. He had the widest wingspan of any Buzz Lightyear there (and there were MANY).
