Happy Peaster!

PURIM + EASTER = PEASTER

I love a good three-costume weekend. Luckily, the third one really just involved a pair of ears and a lot of chocolate.

Malena's school had a Purim parade on Friday, and all the kids dressed up. We borrowed a ladybug costume, because I just knew there would be 3,000 princesses or Queen Esthers.

Saturday she had a princess party to go to. All the girls dressed like princesses, and all the boys dressed like pirates. I'm posting photos of her hair to irritate Jackie. I braided ribbon into her hair and tied it in a bow in the back. I also bought a curling iron and tried to get all Toddler Beauty Queen'd up, but it was raining, and the curls fell the instant I opened the front door. She loved her sparkly shoes. We also had a playdate at my favorite park, which was nice for some quiet time, and we went for noodles later at my favorite noodle shop.

Sunday was Easter. Lamb, wine, and candy. You can't go wrong there.

Now it's Sunday night, it's raining softly outside my window, and I'm packing for a three-day conference. Three days. Nice hotel room. Good food. Expense account.

This is going to be the best week, ever.

"If a child is to keep alive his inborn sense of wonder, he needs the companionship of at least one adult who can share it, rediscovering with him the joy, excitement and mystery of the world we live in."
-- Rachel Louise Carson

Wednesdays is open play at the local kiddie gym, and we like to go with Malena's friend Maya. Maya's mom is super cool, and Maya and Malena share a deep love of each other and All Things Pink.

PEEEEEENK!!!!!

They love pink. I have no idea where she gets that from. Her father, maybe.

We spent an hour jumping and sliding and hopping and swinging, and then decided to get something to eat at a nearby restaurant, where they had kid's facepainting on Wednesday nights. Maya's mom knows these things. I only know when there are hurricane warnings in the Caribbean or Gordon Ramsey's on TV. We wound up in a scattered group of 10-15 people, and Malena and I were the only non-Israelis. Actually, that may not be true. There were a couple of moms that I spoke Spanish with, but they happened to speak fluent Hebrew as well. So maybe we were the only non-Hebrew speakers. But I swear, after a while, you really think you're understanding what's being said. I think they just gesture a lot.

There were babies, babies, everywhere. Maya and Malena both wanted their faces painted as pink tigers. They sat with each other and chatted like old ladies and hopped up and down on the seats. I don't think Malena actually ate anything. They also got balloons. The four of us stopped off at a puppy store to look at the puppies, but I always think a stop like that is more depressing than happy.

When Malena and I finally got in the car, it was almost 9pm. She was cranky, and I was tired and thinking about some reports I still needed to run, but she has so much fun with Maya that it's all worth it.

We pulled onto the highway, I turned on the radio, and since it's 80 degrees out, pushed the button to open the sunroof. I heard a small scream and turned to see Malena holding a limp string tied to her wrist.

Shit, I forgot about the balloon. It was gone. The tears were streaming down her pink tigery face. I'm usually the staid defender of my child's universe, but that really was a mommy blonde moment. I apologized a million times.

"But Mommy!" she screamed. "Why did you open the sunroof??"

"Because Mommy is a moron", I explained. "Can we go get you another one? Please?"

And that is how I wound up at the supermarket at 9:30pm on a weekday with a tear-streaked three-year old in the middle of my own insomnia phase.

I may never sleep again.

But at least my baby is happy. (cough. cough. thunk.)

I'd like to thank the Academy, and.... well, that's pretty much it.

The other day, I dropped my beloved child off at daycare, and took a moment to check out some new artwork that was posted on the wall outside her classroom.

The children all drew their version of a happy face. The teacher asked, "What makes you happy?" and wrote each child's answer under their drawing.

HAPPY FACE

Here we have Maya's picture. Very happy-looking face with a nice button nose. Maya's mommy makes her happy.

This is Taylor's picture, with both eyes on the left side of the head. A little on the abstract side. (Flounderish, even.) Little Picasso! Taylor's daddy makes her happy.


Darian's picture. Slightly disturbing. It's a face inside a face, like Kuato from Total Recall (OPEN YOUR MIND!), or those people on Discovery Health who have a tumor removed and it turns out to have hair and teeth and be a long-lost absorbed twin. Anyhoo, Darian's mommy makes her happy.


My little buddy Mariah is a free, wild spirit. With a cheerful flick of the wrist, she gives her happy face some free-form eyes and a nice, lopsided grin. Mariah's mommy makes her happy.

Oh, Noam. Noam's happy face kind of looks like Elmo. Or, if you're as old as I am, Grover. Nice round little nose. Comforting. Like a fuzzy Muppet hug. What makes Noam happy? You guessed it. Her mommy.

....................

And then we have the child who spends a lot of her time looking at a deranged, exhausted, and overly-caffeinated parental unit. In other words, my child. And what makes her happy?

Her bicycle.

That is one kooky-looking happy face. I don't look like that. Do I look like that?

The child was a floating head.

Is it TOO MUCH TO ASK.

You send your kid to school on Picture Day. She's not wearing her Brownie uniform or a faded "Disco Fever" tee shirt like Jackie's mom always managed to send her to school in on Picture Day. Her hair is brushed neatly. Her tiny little face is scrubbed. Grandma went to Nordstrom's for that shirt, which really does look cute with a pair of jeans.

Could you not CHANGE THE MATCHING BACKDROP.

It's like that re-enactment of Gone With the Wind on the Carol Burnett show, where she makes her dress out of the curtains. Had I known, I would have sent her to school with a little curtain rod tied to her back, just for a laugh.

Some tassels.

Something.