Santa Rocks!

Thanks, Santa!

All Molly asked for this year was a guitar and (a last-minute add one week before Christmas) a new dolly with curly blonde hair. And boy, did you pull through! (Like you wouldn't...)

Not only did you rock Molly's world with a kickin' pink guitar, you also managed to make (with very little notice) a new dolly with curly blonde hair!


You also gave Molly the sweetest little artist's apron, complete with new markers, which she loves! How did you know it would be so perfect? Oh, that's right - you're Santa.

Thanks for the note, too. Glad you liked the cookies and the reindeer enjoyed the carrots and celery. Until next year...

Family Folktales: The Kohl's Jacket Story

New category time! This one we'll call the "Family Folktale." You know - it's all those stories that moms and dads, grandmas and grandpas, aunts and uncles tell over and over and over again - so many times that you start to wonder if they really did happen - or if they're just urban legends.

Perfect example: the time I got shoved down a grain chute at my grandparents' farm by my cousins... but that's a story for another time...

The point of Family Folktales is to capture these stories soon after they happen to prove that Mommy really is not making this stuff up in front of your friends, or grossly exagerating (as Mommy is sometimes prone to do...), but that the events recounted actually did take place in the manner I describe.

So, our first foray into Family Folktales has quickly come to be known as "The Kohl's Jacket Story." This story has been told so many times since it happened that I swore I had blogged about it... but I had not. So here goes:

It was early November, and Daddy was out of town on a business trip. Mommy actually got out of work on time and was able to pick you up a little after 4 p.m. So, we had a little time before dinner. Mommy, always an early Christmas shopper, decided that we could go to Kohl's to try and find sheets for your cousin Ellie for Christmas.

(Editor's note: No, I'm not a horrible aunt who only buys practical things for presents. Ok, well maybe I do buy practical things for presents... but they are certainly always appreciated. And Ellie asked for sheets, anyway... but I digress...)

It was unseasonable warm for November, so you were wearing only a light jacket... the one pictured above, to be exact. Your pink and pink Carter's jacket we bought at Costco last year. Perfect little jacket - not to heavy, but nice and warm.

Anyway, we walk into Kohl's and you promptly remove your jacket, shove it in the bottom of the cart, and climb in for a ride. Kohl's has weird shopping carts -- more like a giant bag on wheels with a seat on the front, so it's easy for things to go out of sight out of mind... (you can see where this is going, can't you?)

When we get to the girls' clothing section (because, like the swallows returning to Capistrano, I can't go to Kohl's without scouring the girls' clothing section for sales... because you need clothes...), you jump out of the cart to look at purses. Then, another mommy was pushing her cart by, so very nicely pushed our cart about a millimeter so she could pass. All of a sudden, you were like a mama grizzly defending her young: "Mommy, that lady is going to take our cart!"

"No, Molly - she's just moving it a little to..."

"No - she's going to take it!"

And with that, you grabbed the cart and start pulling it through the tiny aisles - rolling over fallen clothing and lord knows what else - all in order to save our cart.

Well, fast forward through the rest of the Kohl's visit: found clothes for Molly, no sheets for Ellie. Check out. Then say, "Ok, Molly - where's your coat?"

"In the cart."

Look in the cart - no coat.

Molly had liberated the wrong cart.

"Oh no, we've lost your coat, Molly."

And with that, my poor little puppy dog droops her head and tail, looking very forlorn. "Oh, it's ok, sweetie. Let's go see if we can find it."

We rush back to the kids' section. Don't see a coat or any stray carts. I start to explain my story to the woman at the service counter, who's looking at me with every word like I'm a crazed lunatic. Coat in cart... thought some other woman was going to take it... grabbed wrong cart. But then a very nice woman told us she was closing that night and would be happy to call us if she found it.

As we walked out the door to the van, you were so sad. It was like we had lost Chompers or Humphrey. I couldn't yet at you -- it was an honest mistake. And you really felt awful about it.

"Are you ok, Molly?"

"Why did we lose my coat?"

"Well, we just grabbed the wrong cart, that's all, sweetie."

"Mommy, why don't you have a second coat at home just like that coat just in case I lost it?"

And with that punch line, the Kohl's Jacket Story was born.

You were bummed all night. Thankfully, Tracy from Kohl's called during bath. She had found your jacket. HOORAY!

The next day at school when I dropped you off, I shared the story with Ms. Kelley and your friend Ellie's mom. Later that day, you recounted the harrowing tale for Ms. Kelley and Ms. Cindy, the school owner. You asked her, "Ms. Cindy, do you have a second coat in case your kids lose theirs?" And what did Ms. Cindy reply? "Of course I do, Molly!"

So, I told Daddy we need a house that's twice as big since I now need two of everything... just in case.

Tete A Tot First: Ice Skating

We had a great first today - ice skating. Last week, your friend Abby invited us to go ice skating... but since you were having a bipolar week (not literally - it's just a 4 thing...) and so we decided it probably wasn't good to unleash that on the world, let alone friends.

But this past week, you were FANTASTIC - and really good for Daddy when I was called out of town on a last-minute trip. So, Daddy suggested we all go ice skating today. Just a last minute idea... it was either that or go to the grocery store.

We had a WONDERFUL time.

We visited this great little outdoor rink that's been around forever. It was a fantastic 40 degrees -- so not too cold that you're miserable, but cold enough to make you feel like you should be ice skating. Christmas music was playing over the loud speakers -- and at one point, the opening to "A Charlie Brown Christmas" gently started. It was perfect.

Thanks to a LOT of help from Daddy, you made it around the rink four times over the course of a couple hours. We'd go around once, then take a break. After our second round trip, the Zamboni came out... Then you announced you wanted to do a figure eight. Well, at least you're an overachiever!

After about 1-1/2 hours, we were all pooped and packed up to head home. On the way out, you said, "I really want to come back sometime."

We will, sweetheart. We definitely will.

We Should Have Named Her Carol

Every Christmas, Molly’s school has a wonderful little production called “The Jingle Bell Ball.” Each class sings two songs. (Check that – the kids in the older classes sing the songs. In the younger classes, the teachers sing while the babies sit there, shake jingle bells, or cry.) Last year, the Ballerinas made their debut – which Molly LOVED.

So Molly’s class has been working on their songs for a month. And I think Ms. Sofi has taught them EVERY Christmas carol. All of them. One will start on the radio, and she’ll sing along. Not just the standard “Jingle Bells” and “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” either. She knows, “Deck the Halls,” “Jolly Old Saint Nicholas,” and “Winter Wonderland.” Even, as she calls it, "The rum-a-tum-tum song."

Molly’s other favorite carol is “Angels We Have Heard on High.” (This is one of my all time faves, too… since I have wonderful memories of singing this 1,000 times in high school swing choir.) She learned this from one of our favorite Christmas books Olivia Helps With Christmas. (Seriously, we LOVE Olivia!) So, just like Olivia’s family, I sing the verse, and Molly always let’s go for the chorus…

The best moment for me was when we were decorating Molly’s Christmas tree. (Yes, she has her own tree. More on that later.) She was hanging the ornaments – clustering them all together so all the “friends” could be next to each other (which was making me CRAZY! You have to spread them out!!!)… and she just starts singing in the sweetest little voice, “We wish you a Merry Christmas… and a Happy New Year!”

That’s what Christmas is all about.

"There Was More than One Lobster Present at the Birth of Jesus?"

My favorite line from the movie "Love, Actually." (Here's a bad clip of it on YouTube...) That movie is wonderful, affirming, and heartbreaking all at the same time... The cast rocks and the soundtrack is amazing. But that's not what this post is about...

Molly, your Grandma Twyla gave you a wondeful Christmas present when you were 18 months old - the Fisher Price Little People Nativity Set. And the story of why is even more wonderful -- it was her job every year, when she was a little girl, to set up the Nativity Scene under the Christmas tree. But it was a very breakable set - and so her parents told her to be extremely careful with it and NOT to dare play with the Baby Jesus. Just put him in the manger and be done with it. So, she bought you this set so you could play with it - just like she always wanted to. And this way, every Christmas, you and she would share a tradition. Very, very sweet.

So a few weeks ago, you lovingly set up your little set under the tree... and this year added an elephant that Grandma gave you... which made me think "I wish I had a lobster to throw in there." I walked by the tree later and witnessed this:

"So, there was an elephant and a giant tabby cat present at the birth of Christ?"

Rocking the Vote

Molly - It's been awhile since I've posted... and there are lots of posts rattling around in my head... but I had to post about the history that was made last night.

Barack Obama was elected the 44th President of the United States. Daddy and I took you to vote with us -- and then you voted at school. (Obama won there, too!) You were so excited about going to vote - and I hope we can keep that excitement and enthusiasm alive in you as you grow.

Through the Looking Glass...

Last Friday, after BalletandPancakes, it was time for your Kindergarten assessment test. I figured it would be good to do this now so we could work on any areas where you need help.

I tried to prepare you for it by saying we were going to play with some teachers. You asked, "Are we going to my school?"

"No."

"My kindergarten school?"

"No..."

"Well, what teachers then?"

Thanks, Molly... thanks for questioning me on this.

"We're going to play with some teachers to see if you're ready for kindergarten."

"Oh... ok."

And that was that.

So we go to the early childhood center in our school district, and wait in the lobby. Then, the teacher comes out to get Molly -- and it's our former parent educator from Parents as Teachers (a WONDERFUL organzation that all parents should take advantage of, if it's offered in their area.)! Literally, Ms. Linda had her first meeting with us before Molly was even born. And she's going to help test Molly!

We had a lovely little mini-reunion, then Ms. Linda said, "Ok, are you ready to go?" I start to pick up my Mommy Bag to head back when Ms. Linda looks at me and says, "Oh, no - you can wait here..."

"Oh, ok..." I reply casually... with my voice unusually high. "Have fun, Molly." Without me.

From the lobby, I can see Molly in the room -- listening to the teachers, throwing and catching a bean bag, writing, and learning.

Why is this making me teary? Because my little peanut is such a big girl...

After what seemed like an hour, the teachers come out to get me. Molly did a wonderful job - her only two areas to work on are catching a ball and singing the alphabet without skipping the letter N. And Molly was so proud of herself.

And I am too.

Molly-ism: "Food To Try"

So, I needed to go to the grocery store the other night. And I thought, "Well, I get Molly from school, then swing by the store, and we'll zip in and out."

There was no zipping.

I don't know if it's because you're four now, or if you were just in a mood, or if you'd mainlined sugar at school for snack, but you were en fuego. Everything you saw, you wanted -- cookies, loaves of bread, a whole chicken, any food product with any licensed character on it. (And can someone please explain to me why Spongebob Squarepants is on packs of carrots? I mean, aside from the fact that Molly now wants those specific packs of carrots...)

You also were on the hunt for "the ladies." "Mommy, where are the ladies?" you asked.

"What ladies?"

"You know, the ladies... the little old ladies with food to try? I want some food to try..."

Unfortunately, our local grocery store on a rainy Thursday at 4:30 p.m. doesn't compare to the throngs of samplers at Costco on a Saturday morning.

Halloween Costume - 2008 Debut

Molly went to her first Halloween party on Sunday. Luckily, it was a beautiful day and the party was outside. All the kids and parents had a fun time hunting for pumpkins and visiting... so it was a delightful time for all.

Most importantly, Molly got to debut her Cinderella outfit, complete with glass slippers (thanks, Target!) and homemade choker (or "choke," as Molly calls it).

Happy Halloween, princess!

So, This Is What Daddies Think About...

"Honey, we need to talk..."

This is how my husband starts a conversation on a recent car trip home from visiting his parents. Molly's in the back of the van... peacefully drifting off to sleep. And Aaron hits me with the "we need to talk" line.

Oh, crap - what's wrong??? I think. "Um, yes?" I say in my calmest voice, wondering what's about to happen...

"It's about Molly's number," he continues.

Huh? I think. So I cleverly respond, "Huh?"

"You know, Molly's number... on her jersey."

Again, I reply, "Huh?"

"You know, when she plays sports - the number on her jersey. Seeing that decal on the back of that car made me think of it."

"Ok, but... Molly doesn't play any sports right now."

And that's when he explains it all to me: "Well, we need to talk about what numbers are acceptable to wear, and which aren't. You know, like 5. That one's great - it's George Brett and Albert Pujols. And 9 - that's Ted Williams, so that's a given."

My head is spinning, trying to process the conversation -- let alone figuring out how we got here.

Aaron continues as I nod along. "But not 13."

Ok, I need a clarification. "Why not 13? Because of Kurt Warner? (Because I thought we liked Kurt Warner.) Or not 13 because it's unlucky?"

"Good question - not 13 because of the silly reverse psychology of it: it's an unlucky number so I'll pick it to be bad and make it lucky for me."

Ok, that clears that up...

"Oh, and not 1. Ozzie Smith was no. 1 and he's arrogant. And 25 was McGwire - so that's debateable... And 99 is Manny Ramirez, so definitely not..."

Again, a clarification: "But wasn't Wayne Gretzky 99? And he's the Great One, right?" And shouldn't I get like 1,000 cool wife points for knowing this?

"Yeah, good point."

"Well how about this, can you make me a wallet card of what numbers are and aren't acceptable, so I don't bring home something like 10..."

"Oh, no," Aaron gasps. "That's Chipper Jones... we can't have that."

"Ok, not 10," I reply. "So if I bring home 18..."

"Oh, lord no - that's Johnny Damon.... traitor. We can't have that."

"Well then how about this," I begin. "When the time comes to sign up Molly for any sporting activity, you are hearby nominated to be in charge."

Aaron looks at me, puzzled. "What?" he asks.

"Congratulations!" I reply, proud that I've found a way to get out of the Number Conundrum. "And good luck to you."

Now, it's Aaron who's wearing the puzzled "how did we get here?" look...

So, next time I wonder what daddies are thinking about - I'm going to guess it's related to sports.

Future Job: Veterinarian

Do I Make You Proud?

(Nothing like a little Taylor Hicks reference to kick off our post...)

Your teachers in your new pre-K room at school do a fantastic job of writing at least one comment a day on your daily sheet about a little something you did or said. The very first comment on your first day was, "Molly is so polite." I teared up at this. (But, as Daddy says, getting me to cry isn't all that hard.)

Other comments that we've enjoyed:

"Molly likes to help her friends."

"Molly has an infectious laugh."

"Molly really enjoys taking care of the babies."

"Molly LOVES to paint on the easel."

Ms. Sofi also writes, "Molly ate all her lunch." This then became, "Molly ate all her lunch - twice." Then, "Molly ate two lunches." Well - I guess we hit a growth spurt, because you were bellying up for seconds all week. (We were afraid of a meal surcharge - but the owner told us that doesn't kick in until you ask for thirds!)

The one comment that we hear over and over -- and that gets Daddy and me every time -- is how polite you are. All of your teachers tell us this, grandmas and grandpas tell us this, and our friends and the parents of your friends tell us this too. Nothing could make me P R O U D E R as your mommy than to hear this. I only hope this is one trait that never changes.

Love you, Peanut.

Fun at the Pumpkin Patch

We visited our first pumpkin patch of the season over the weekend with Grandma and Aunt Lois. Despite the weather being a little on the warm side, we had a great time.























The cutest thing there was the tractor carousel. Little antique tractors hooked up that you rode around and around and around. Grandma kept telling me, "Make sure you get her picture on the M tractor."

"What's the big deal with the M tractor?"

"That was the tractor Grandpa had as a boy."

So Grandpa, this one's for you!

Tete A Tot First: Apple Picking

Last Molly and Mommy day (a.k.a. Friday), we met a friend of mine and her little girl (almost one) at a local farm to enjoy some apple picking. (The pumpkins aren't out yet.) You had a blast. It was a GLORIOUS day outside -- beautiful weather, big fluffy clouds... and I soaked in every minute of it... knowing that this is our last year of Molly and Mommy days.

I am so going to miss them. But we'll cherish every one we have left before you start Kindergarten next year.

Love you, peanut.

Rockin' Out - Molly Style

Thank goodness for mp3 players... (maybe the mp stands for Molly Paige... but I digress.)

Anyway, Daddy loaded up mine with all kinds of American Idol music -- Taylor, Daughtry, Kathryn McPhee, Blake Lewis... plus all the David Cook we could get our hands on. Even a couple Michael Johns numbers, too. (Don't worry, Brooke and Carly - we're getting ready to download you too!)

The good news, Molly, is that you have a diverse taste in music. Everything from Dan Zanes to Queen. However, the bad news is that you think "Daytripper" (one of your favorite songs) is by David Cook... and that Michael Johns is the only one to sing "Dream On" and "We Are the Champions." (And I'm not sure I'm ready to tell you about Aerosmith or Queen quite yet... or ever.)

Saturday night, I went out to meet some friends and left you and Daddy watching Rain on PBS -- a Beatles tribute band. You L O V E D it. You were entranced by the music and the performance. "Mommy! They're singing David Cook!" (Ok, so we're working on that.) Then you watched Matchbox Twenty on Soundstage. (God bless you, PBS!) Now, you're telling everyone your new favorite band in the Beatles. And you want to go to the Rain concert this spring.

Rock on, little girl. Rock on.

The Return of Ballet and Pancakes

Last week, we started the second year of our favorite Friday tradition: Ballet and Pancakes. We even added a new step this year: the library!

It's amazing how much you've grown since last year. As we were leaving, the class of three year-olds was lining up to start. They looked so... little!

I only get to stay and watch the first Friday of the month each year instead of every Friday. But watching you, I thought that this time next year, you'll be in Kindergarten, and I'll be back working five days a week... so this is our last year of Molly and Mommy days. And I'm cherishing every one.

Love you, ballerina!

First Day of Pre-K

Here you are, Peanut... ready for your first day in the Pre-K room at school.

You wanted to wear a dress - and you picked out this one Grandma got you for your birthday because it had polka dots and you love polka dots.

You had a great day in your new room. On your daily sheet, at the very bottom, your new teacher wrote, "Molly is very polite." Daddy and I couldn't be more proud.

(Of course, your first day of Pre-K is making me realize that this time next year, it will be your first day of Kindergarten... and I don't know if I'm ready for that...)

Good While It Lasted...

Last year, when I asked you want you wanted for Christmas, you pondered the question for a moment, then replied very earnestly: "I want two things: a backpack and an oven mitt."

You later amended this to include a third item, the My Friends Tigger and Pooh Christmas DVD. Thanks, Playhouse Disney.) But all through the holiday season, you stuck to those three items. When anybody -- grandmas, teachers, people at the mall, random waitresses -- asked you what you wanted for Christmas, you had your reply down pat:

"I would like three things: a backpack, an oven mitt, and myfriendstiggerandpoohdvd."

And these people would give us a quizzical look, like, "Have you not told this poor child about real toys?" And we smile, shrug our shoulders, and think - "How sweet. How wonderful. The commercial crush of Christmas has not spoiled our precious little girl."

Fast forward eight months.

We're playing in the basement playroom, cleaning up our toys, when you asked the following: "Mommy, you know what I want for Christmas?

"What, sweetie?" I reply. (Oh, what lovely, thoughtful things would she like this year? A new school bag... a donation to the homeless...)

"A Hannah Montana guitar and a tv for my room."

And scene.

How Many Elephants are in a Herd?

According to this, elephants live in herd sizes that range from 5 to 30, but usually average around 8 to 15 .

(Here's the herd of three at our zoo from a recent visit...)

In Molly's elephant herd, the current count is 14. (Check that - after I took this photo, I found another Horton on the floor. So we're at 15.)

More detail on each of these elephant friends later... But note to self - I think we have enough elephants.

The Accidental Sleepover

You had another first last weekend - your first sleepover at a friend's house! Of course, it kind of happened accidentally...

Daddy and I lucked into some last minute tickets for the Bruce Springsteen concert. We're pretty casual Boss fans but thought this sounded like fun. And wow - what a concert!

Anyway... all of our standard babysitters were either going camping, headed to a baseball game, or out of town for a wedding. So I tried your friend Abby. Her mom was thrilled to have you over for an evening playdate and invited you to spend the night.

Me: "Molly, would you like to spend the night at Abby's house?"

Molly: "Yes."

Me: "Should we take your blow-up bed?"

Molly: "No, I want to slee in my own bed."

(and scene)

So after describing how sleeping in your own bed is not sleeping at Abby's house, Molly decided that she would much rather sleep at home. Knowing the concert was going to be over late, we packed our jammies and our two best elephant friends and headed to Abby's.

It all would have gone according to plan... had the Boss not started the show almost 90 minutes late! (I guess the 7:30 start time was more of a suggestion, not a rule.) So, we were leaving the concert at midnight. I called Abby's dad and he said Molly was great and the girls were both asleep. I told him to call us if Molly freaked out in the night, but otherwise we'd see them for breakfast in the morning.

At 9 a.m. the next morning, the phone rings. All is well. You only woke up once for a drink of water and some pats from Abby's mom.

You were a little clingy when we met at breakfast... but you were also so proud of your first big girl sleepover at your friends.

Big girl!

Friday Tradition: Ballet and Pancakes

When I went back to work after maternity leave, I went back "part time." (Part time, as defined by my work, is 35+ hours a week. But I digress...)

So, I work four days a week and have Fridays off. We always called Fridays "Mommy and Molly Days." We'd run errands, sometimes meet Daddy for lunch, and sometimes just nap. As you got older, we even started having playdates on Fridays.

Then last September, you started ballet lessons at your school. I was so excited. I was a dancer and your grandma (my mommy) was a dancer. I hoped you would enjoy dancing as much as we did.

Of course, ballet was before school started -- so we had to be in our leotard and leg warmers, ready to go at 7:30... A.M. -- in the morning.

But I got to stay and watch you. A small mommy luxury. And I treasured every minute. (And took about 1,000 photos.)

After your first lesson, because you did such a great job (and because it was only 8:15), I said, "Molly, you were a great listener. Where would you like to go to breakfast?" The answer I expected was "the bagel store" (a.k.a. Panera Bread) - where we go with Daddy on Saturday mornings.

The answer I got: "Pancakes at McDonald's!!!"

I didn't even know you knew McDonald's had pancakes... but ok, let's go. So we went and had pancakes. And you enjoyed them this much...

The next week, another mommy and ballerina joined us... then another. And they became very good friends over the course of eight months of Ballet and Pancake Fridays.

Ballet starts again next week and you are so excited. You really do love to dance, which thrills me to no end. It must be like when you and Daddy play catch - he loves that. And so another year of Ballet and Pancake Fridays begins. (You and your friend Abby already have told me this is the plan.)

This will be our last year of Mommy and Molly Fridays. Next year, you'll start kindergarten and I'll go back to work five days a week. But I will always cherish our special Mommy and Molly Days.

Love you, peanut.

Return of the Killer Tomatoes

Last weekend, we stopped at a farmer's market on the way home from a morning of running errands. This great little place had the best looking tomatoes I'd seen in awhile, so we got a few to enjoy.

Cut to me fixing lunch a couple hours later, when the following conversation took place:

Me: "Molly, would you like a tomato with your lunch?"

Molly: "No - tomatoes kill you."

Me: "Um, what?" (And really thinking what the f???)

Molly: "Tomatoes kill you."

Me: (Trying to act real calm and not FREAK OUT) "Where did you hear that?"

Molly: (Now coloring a picture of a rainbow or something completely innocent...) "Oh, on the TV."

TV... tomatoes... killer tomatoes... George Clooney in bad movies...

Oh wait - the salmonela scare? From a month ago?

Me: (Quickly forgoing the explanation of the whole crazy story and getting into peppers, spinach, and anything else...) "Oh sweetie, those were tomatoes that didn't get washed."

Molly: "Mommy, do you wash our tomatoes?"

Me: "Yes, sweetie - I wash our tomatoes. I promise."

Self-Portrait, Part Deux

"Mommy, that's me... and that's you. And we're holding hands. And that's our curly hair."

"That's great, sweetie. I love you."

"I love you too, Mommy."

Self-Portrait of the Artist as a Young Girl

Your Last Day of Being Three

My dearest Molly,

Today was your last day being three. Daddy told you this fact this morning and you giggled. Then you told everyone today that it was your last day being three. It was so sweet. And it made me reflect on how much you've grown in the last year. You continue to amaze Daddy and me every day with your new words (passenger, perfection, Triceratops...) and with how sweet, kind, and loving you are. We could both listen to the sound of your giggle all day long.

The best part of three was how you took a simple "good night" and made it into the favorite part of our day. When you were "little," I would talk about how much we love our family. Then, one night, you pulled Daddy and me into your arms and yelled, "We... love... our family!"

It was a killer moment. (As Jerry Lee Lewis once said after lighting a piano on fire, "No one follows the killer!"

So every night, that's our tradition. Whether we're all at home, or Daddy or I are traveling, we always end our night with "We... love... our family!" It's always fun to hear Daddy do it when he's at a work dinner :) but he loves it.

And we love you too, Peanut.

Happy last night of three.

Love,
Mommy

American Idols Live ROCKS!

We had a G R E A T time at American Idols Live. I'll blog the blow-by-blow later, but thanks to David Cook (and Daddy's noice-cancelling headphones), we had a blast at your first rock-n-roll concert.

Here you are, waiving at the giant David Cook on the Jumbotron... David! Hello! I'm your biggest fan!

Another First: Corn on the Cob

Last night, you ate your first piece of corn on the cob.

We were having dinner on the deck... you were helping me set the table (sort of). I put our little corn on the cob dishes in front of Daddy's plate and my plate. "Mommy," you said in a kind of annoyed sort of way, "where's my corn plate?"

"Do you want corn on the cob? Really?" I asked. What's the right age to give a kid corn on the cob, I thought? Where's THAT in the lexicon of parenting advice?

"Yes, please," you replied as you promptly claimed my corn plate as your corn plate.

Ok, I thought. What the heck. She'll try two bites, then hand me the rest.

I was wrong. You ate it - every bite. Like a pro. Perfect corn-on-the-cob-eating form.

I don't know why this impressed me so much -- maybe it just seems like such a grown-up thing to do. It seems like yesterday when I was feeding you green bean puree... and now you're tackling corn on the cob.

(Side note: I'm not really sure why you're wearing your Steak 'n Shake hat. You've had it forever and haven't worn it in months... but you rediscovered it yesterday and it hasn't left your head since.)

So corn on the cob - a mini milestone... but one that I'll treasure.

And Joey Speaks French, Too...

At your "school" (a.k.a. day care center that we LOVE), they incorporate all kinds of great activities: yoga, music, and Spanish. This evening, you were showing off your mad language skills.

Molly: "Mommy, I can speak Spanish."

Mommy: "Really? What can you say?"

(Editor's Note: I don't speak Spanish... so the following is a phonetic translation.)

Molly: "Je blue blagga blue."

Mommy: "Um, I don't think that's Spanish."

Molly: "Yes it is. And the Spanish word for taco is burrito."

Mommy (to herself since Molly isn't really listening anymore): "Um, isn't the Spanish word for burrito... burrito?"

Molly (completely ignoring her Spanish-ignorant mommy and admiring her Lightning McQueen race car): "And the Spanish word for Lighting is race car."

Mommy: "Well, not really..."

Molly: "Blu zappa zing."

Mommy: "Ok, it's time for bath."

Molly: "Za kaching pow. That's Spanish for bathtime."

Mommy: "Right... when is Daddy coming home?"

(And the title of the post refers to one of my most favorite all-time episodes of the world's greatest sitcom, Friends. Here's the link. Enjoy.)

This Might Make Me the COOLEST Mom Ever!

Or, this could all go seriously wrong.

I put my name in through a friend of mine for some tickets to American Idols Live -- thinking if we get them, great! If not, no big deal.

And I just got word today, the tickets are ours. So we have a date with David Cook, Brooke White, and the other Idols on Friday night.

You're either going to L O V E this... or completely freak out during the first number. We'll just wait and see...

(Side note: I haven't blogged yet about the David Cook Book your aunt made you... more on that tomorrow.)

Won't You Take Me To...

One of your favorite afternoon activities at school is dancing. And one of your new favorite albums, much to my chagrin, is the soundtrack to that Oscar-contender, "Alvin and the Chipmunks." (The one with the creepy guy from that Earl show on TV...)

(Side note: from watching the commercials for that stinker, I didn't think it was really appropriate for you to watch... what with one of the chipmunks singing bow-chicka-wow-wow and all. But Grandma, Papa, and your teacher thought differently. Anyway...)

So a couple nights ago, you bust into "Won't you take me to.... FUNKYTOWN????" (Funkytown is on the aforementioned crappy soundtrack.) Daddy and I cracked up. How could we not? Our almost 4 year-old is belting disco in our family room. Then Daddy found Funkytown on iTunes... and we spent the rest of the night dancing and singing. (Which was a blast.)

Fast-forward to today. In the van... on the way home from school.

Molly (in a very sad voice): Mommy?

Me: Yes, Molly...

Molly (in a very sad, pouty voice): What can't we go to Funkytown?

Me: Um, well... I think Funkytown is far away.

Molly: Is Funkytown not in Missouri?

Me: No, sweetie. Funkytown is most definitely not in Missouri.

And scene.

Chillin' at Cracker Barrel

Or, what Molly will look like as a little old lady...

Have Apron, Will Travel

... Or, Why We LOVE The Home Depot...

Over the Fourth of July weekend, we drove to Ohio for my Grandmother's 90th birthday party.

(Interesting side note: after I was informed that we were having her party over July 4th, I told my mom, "But her birthday is in December. Did her 90th birthday just happen, or is it coming up?" My mother replied: "We really don't know... but she's 90-ish.")

Anyway... Aaron and I realized that July 5 was the first Saturday of the month. And you know what that means: Kids' Workshop at The Home Depot!!! And this time, the project was a bird house. We couldn't miss that...

So we packed up our orange apron and hit the road to Ohio. Grandpa said there was a Home Depot close to the hotel... it was literally across the parking lot.

It was neat to see how this Home Depot did things differently: They set everything up outside, under the Contractors' Pick-Up Awning. We signed in and got our supplies. Then, at the very end, Jeff the Home Depot guy stamped the bottom of the bird house and Molly signed her own name. Seriously -- too cute.

We had a great time... and Grandpa had fun getting in on the action too.

Thanks, Home Depot - you're the best!

Grandma wants to see this photo in a Home Depot ad... but what Grandma doesn't think her babies belong in an ad? Is that in Chapter 3 of the Grandma manual?

"Mommy, I'm Worried..."

Let me start off by writing that you are a very good sleeper. You always have been. (Thank GOD.) Luckily, Daddy and I got you into a routine early. There were a few on-and-off bouts. But after fighting through a couple “crying it out” phases, it’s paid off.

However, every so often, you try out a new stalling tactic.

Your latest is “Mommy, can you come here for a minute, please? I need to tell you something.” With a lead-in like that, it’s hard to resist. Upon entering your darkened room, I ask, “Yes, Molly?”

“Mommy,” you reply, “I’m worried.”

“Worried about what?”

At that point, I can almost hear the wheels in your mind turning... searching... trying to find something to be worried about.

Last week, you were worried about your elephants. “They trumpet in the night,” you explained to me very earnestly. “And they wake up my friends.” (A.k.a. the 12,000 stuffed animals in your bed.) “The trumpeting scares them, Mommy.” We identified Uncle Elmer (your elephant from Build-a-Bear) as the lead offender in the midnight trumpeting raids. So I had a very stern talk with him… and you went right to sleep.

Last night, you called again. “Mommy, I’m worried…” and I could see you searching around your room for something to worry you. Finally, you found something: “I’m worried about Hippo.”

“Hippo? Hippo is fine. He's on the back of your rocking chair.”

“Yes. I think he doesn’t like it there.”

“Would he rather be in bed with you?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

And after that, silence.

Daddy and I always love the creative, interesting ways you try to lure us back to your room. With Daddy, you always ask for pats and scratches on your back… and he can never turn that down. Or, sometimes, it’s the call of “Just one more kiss, Mommy.” And I will N E V E R turn that down.

Happy Father's Day

Dear Daddy,

Happy Father's Day. I really had fun playing catch with you.

Love, Molly

(Daddy - does it get any better than this? Love, Mommy)