Pooped...

We're having a little shindig Saturday. My little one is turning two, so we're throwing a small Halloween party, and having everyone come in costume. It wasn't much of a gig, until I sat down and added up how many people were coming. 45! 45 people! Including my mother-in-law, and dear friends flying in from Orlando. No pressure, people.

Plus, my almost 4 year old really, really wants to be Peter Pan. All the Peter Pan costumes are for boys (go figure) so yours truly,made a Peter Pan costume yesterday. This is the same person that almost flunked home economics, because the duffel bag I was supposed to sew resembled more of a corduroy lump. Somehow, I pulled it together. I sewed fabric leaves all over her old ballet skirt, and made her a little triangle hat out of green felt and some feathers. Made her a little green tunic too, complete with Joann Fabric sequin pins, and even Tim Gunn would approve. Lucy is Tinkerbell (thank you Disney.com!), Matt is Captain Hook and I ordered a beautiful smocked nightgown from Garnet HIll and am going as Wendy.

As for food- yesterday, I baked 36 Magnolia Bakery cupcakes. 12 of them are going to school tomorrow, and the other 24 will accompany the pumpkin shaped chocolate cake for the party. I ordered a large platter of nuggets from the beloved Chick-Fil-A, and will serve these up with some fruit salad, an orzo pasta salad and some sandwiches for the adults. (orange muffins studded with ham, montrachet goat cheese with roasted red peppers and capers, and shrimp salad).

In other news, we have now insisted that everyone wear pants to the dinner table. This declaration was met with protests, and one almost four year old grumbled, "I don't like this underwear business." Life can be hard.

A Case of the Grumpies

I hate Pottery Barn. That may make me un-American, but I loathe that store more than Democrats hate Bush. We got our winter catalogue in the mail yesterday, and while the glossy pages are filled with gorgeous rooms- there is always a sameness, a cookie-cutter feel to all of their stuff. It's like Americans don't even have to think of creating original, thoughtful homes that reflect their own personal styles- they just go to their local PB, Starbucks latte in hand, and schlep home their own Thomas bed. I always imagine these wacky San Francisco designers, smoking their little French cigarettes, surrounded by their apothecary jars- plotting which home accessory to inflict upon us next.

In other grumpy news, I've got sick kids home YET again. With a million errands to run, no milk in the house and a mother-in-law fast approaching, this virus has long worn out its welcome.

Cutting Class...

It was a break from routine today. Annie is still too sick to go to school, but not sick enough to be confined to the house. So, after dropping Lucy off at preschool this morning, my little Peter Pan and I spent the morning together. I took her to this local cafe that I like to hang out in when they are usually in school. It was 71 degrees this morning, and we sat outside and enjoyed hot chocolate and brioche. Annie fed some breakfast to the birds, and we compared pigeon imitations and shared a couple of giggles.

I must confess. I am really glad she played hooky today. One of the things that surprised me the most after having kids was how much I would actually like them. I knew I would love them... but I wasn't expecting to like them so much. I really like what kind of people they are, and when they are not whining or smearing poop everywhere, I really enjoy their company. I feel blessed that I get to share my life with these 2 little people.

Too Much Miles Davis...

"Mommy, I feel sick." Annie says.
Mommy looks up and asks, "What hurts you Annie McFannie?"
"My tummy." Annie replies.
"Hmmm... what does your tummy feel like?" Mommy asks.
Annie thinks for a minute and says, "It feels like jazz."

Timing

I heard from my little brother today. We made a pact that before he left, he could talk to me about ANYTHING, and that I would be here to listen. Today, I got a message from him. He is moving between 2 different locations, because of the specialized nature of his training. Two hours after he left one location, it got hit by rockets, and 2 soldiers were killed. 32 others were injured. One soldier that was killed was exactly where my brother was 2 hours earlier. He made me promise not to tell his wife, or my mother. Ay caramba. I think I'll have trouble sleeping tonight. I know he will.

Weather Forecast

We're home sick today. Lucy's fever finally broke last night, but her little body is limp and tired from this nasty virus. It's a good day to be home--- lots of rain and general gloom in the air. I've got a shepherd's pie ready for the oven, and am about to bake some pumpkin cookies with a brown butter frosting.

I love rainy days--- their coziness, staying in your jammies all day- but I don't like the tornado that occurs inside. My girls are talented- they can create a mess in less than a three second span. Most people long for peace and quiet, but in my house, quiet spells t-r-o-u-b-l-e. It usually involves a pilfered Sharpie marker or a fresh new bottle of hand soap. There are days, lots of them, when I feel like I will be swallowed by the mess. But then, just when I've reached my limit- my girls do something hilarious... like climbing on top of their rocking horses, buck naked, and yelling "Yeehaw!".

Giddy Up.

Just got back from a birthday party, and my house is passed out from exhaustion. Our good friends hosted a "derby" party- since their kids are obsessed with horses. Instead of mint juleps, the adults drank mojitos, and the kids all got stick horses they used for some horse racing in the front yard.

Party highlights:
"You must wear underwear to bounce in the jumpee. It's a rule." Annie finally agreed.
After the pony pinata bit the dust, the kids screamed in horror because the body came crashing to the ground, and the pony head was left dangling from a rope on the tree.

Tomorrow's agenda? Hopefully Lucy kicks the fever she is now sporting, and we can make it to the pumpkin patch for our annual photo. (We miss you Ian! Won't be the same without you). I've also got to drop a down payment on a some new tap shoes for Annie and it's the last day for gymbucks- I don't know if I have enough fight left in me to battle the soccer moms.

Upcoming blog? Dealing with the Preschool Mafia.