Heat wave

This is what a day at the ballpark in 95+ degree weather will do to you. 

 And here's how refreshed you look when you douse yourself with water in the back yard.

 Reinforcements have arrived. 

Gee, your hair smells terrific!

 Spray it; don't say it. 

 That's a pill bug Lily's trying to keep on her hand. 

 City girls shucking corn. 

Did you know there's actually corn in here!?!

Toga! Toga!

Last Thursday was International Day at Lily's school, for which each class learns about a country and performs at a school-wide assembly. It's also pretty cool because there are kids from so many countries at her school, it tends to be pretty diverse. (Many of DC's embassies fall within the school boundary.)

The United Colors of Stoddert

The country for Lily's kindergarten class was Italy. They went with ancient Rome for their performance theme. 

Lily was Diana, goddess of the moon (toga by Hanes). 

  Andy said that Lily was running when he took this ethereal picture. 

The day was capped by International Night--a combination potluck and talent show. Note Lily's prime position in the front row, soaking up the performances.

Party all the time*

This was one of those weekends that makes me feel like the cliched over-scheduled parent. Three parties in two days (plus a couple of extracurriculars thrown in for good measure). All good stuff, but not terribly restful. 

*Points if the title immediately makes you think of Eddie Murphy's brief singing career. 

On Saturday, after music and dance lessons in the morning, we headed out to Virginia (Lily: "It's so clean in Virginia!) for a barbecue with some of Andy's colleagues. The girls rapidly took over the swing set. (Note Amalia's current headband phase. Self-application required, of course.)

On Sunday, we attended a birthday party for one of Lily's friends at a local park (this is a pre-departure photo; note the new headband).

After the birthday party, Lily's piano teacher had invited her students over for tea. (Lily: "I won't have to drink tea, will I?")

These are pictures of us walking back from the tea party. Just a clue as to why every journey takes longer than Mom thinks it should.

In this respect, Lily is very much her father's daughter. (Not specific to hunting for four-leaf clovers, of course.)

Oh, Amalia

I just ran across a picture of Amalia as a baby taking a bath in our kitchen sink. Seeing her playful eyes and standy-uppy hair, I thought, "We should have known."

Case in point: Last night as I was trying to get her to fall asleep after much book reading and song singing--and with Lily long since asleep on the other side of me--we had the following dialogue:

• Me: It's time to go to sleep.
• Amalia: (calmly replying, holding up her left hand, palm-side up) I don't have to go to sleep. 
• Me: Really? Why not? 
• Amalia: Because I'm a waker. 
• Me: 
• Amalia: Lily's a sleeper. And you're a sleeper. But I'm a waker. 
• Me: Hmmm. 

Apparently Andy had had the same conversation with her the previous night.

Then again, there is a helpful aspect to her independence. This morning as I was making breakfast, Amalia went out the back door into our backyard. When I poked my head out to see what she was doing, she was standing there in her nightgown with a plastic baggie on each hand. 

• Me: What are you doing?
• Amalia: I'm picking up poops!

And sure enough, there next to her was a third plastic bag quite full of dog poop. 

I guess we'll keep her around. 

I know what let's do!

Last weekend, my daughters (and husband) thought it would be a good idea to suggest that we go to Six Flags for Mother's Day. I had other ideas. 

Not to be deterred, Andy took advantage of Grandma Kathy and Grandpa Colin being in town this weekend to rope them into amusement park madness. 

Girls in flouncy skirts going around in circles. 

Amalia was upset that she couldn't go in the big-kid version of the "Bounce and Pounce." 

She wanted to go higher. 

And now for the portion of the blog that will make my best friend cringe. Look, Amy! Mascots!

Hugging!

 Even Yosemite Sam, who is a bit iffy. 

 So back to last weekend, here is a "Mom" cake the girls made for me. 

Apparently some taste testing was required. 

Farm animals

What do you get when you cross a birthday party for 3-year-old twin boys, a 200-acre farm in  Bluemont, VA, and the Argentinian culture? Answer: Festivities that last 6 hours, include pizza and cake, barnyard animals, a jumping pillow, a wagon ride, mini-golf, and a lot of mud, and everything running about an hour or two behind schedule. 

 

  This was the first cow we saw upon arrival. I think my city girls were a bit confused. 

But not for long. There were plenty of real animals to play with. 

Wilbur!

 A study in contrasts. Here you can see Lily attempting to feed the donkeys from the lid of her cup.

Amalia believes in the direct application method. 

 Another beast of burden. 

The cow train. (My ears kept hearing "CalTrain" and I felt a bit nostalgic for home.)

 The kids ended up going around in this thing three times--it drives all over the farm. 

 The birthday boys Santiago and Bautista. 

The girls in cake pole position. 

 The dissection stage. 

 Caught in Charlotte's web. 

 This horse swing was fashioned from an old tire. 

 I like the word sluice. Like juice, but more exotic. 

Andy was so excited to share his love of golf with Lily. 

This set of tunnel slides was super fun and very popular, but it had a water hazard at the end, so we tried to stop the kids before they slid into the mud. 

Exhibit A

It doesn't get much cuter than a bunch of kids eating watermelon. 

Unless it's a whole mess of kids sitting in a row. 

The VERY slow wagon ride. 

The jumping pillow. 

At one point during the day, Lily was heard to proclaim that "the country is better than the city." Then again, she also said that golf was her favorite thing at the party, so perhaps she got a bit of sun stroke. 

Busted

We tried out a new cleaning service at our house yesterday. I was feeling pretty good about it until this morning when Amalia was running through our kitchen and slipped and fell on our so-clean-they're-super-slick floors and busted her lip open.

Here's her side of the story.