The Tale of Stalky the Snowman

So, I never got around to sharing this last winter, but it was too good not to post.  In honor of our rapidly warming winter, I want to tell you all the tale of "Stalky The Snowman."

When Millie was two years old, she loved snowmen.  The teachers at her school planned a whole unit around them, where the children sang songs about Frosty, and embarked on a global postcard writing campaign with their lovable friend, Olaf.

That's why, last winter she insisted on building a snowman on our back porch.  She wanted to build him right outside the window, you know-- so she could stare at him all the time, even from inside her warm house. Millie named him "Frosty the Snowman."  Sean and I named him "Stalky."

Here is Stalky the Snowman, attending Millie's birthday party.

Now, as you may remember, last winter was particularly cold.  Months went by, and Stalky melted, and refroze, on our porch. He melted.  He refroze.  He melted again. He REFROZE AGAIN.  Each time, he got creepier and creepier, looking more and more like the melting Nazi's in Raiders of the Lost Ark. Daily, he stared inquisitively into our warm house.  

 I call this picture, "Stalky's Last Stand."

Finally, one fateful day in March, Stalky melted for good. I'll never know what exactly became of Stalky.* Like Frosty, did he have to hurry home that day?  If so, what was he getting from his house? Should we be worried? Will he, as the song tells "be back again some day?" God. I hope not.  RIP Stalky. You were the worst.

*unless I read a basic 3rd grade science book. 

 

RIP Stalky.  We will all remember today as the day you melted, and Cricket ate your nose.

Mother's Day, 2015

Don't get me wrong.  I love Mother's day.  This year, Sean bought me 200 feet of soaker hose and helped me build an irrigation system for my vegetable garden! I'm all for any holiday that celebrates my awesomeness, and almost guarantees that I can go to the lawn-&-garden store and buy irresponsible amounts of shade perennials, but still--- the whole idea of celebrating all mothers on a single day seems fishy to me.

I think the traditions of mother's day-- the brunches, the flowers, the truck-loads of horse manure* ** ***--- should take place on the birthdays of that mother's children.  After all, she was the one who endured hours and hours of horrific pain in order to bring them into this world, and then, once her prenatal yoga class was over, she had to have childbirth! Shouldn't we celebrate mother's day on that child's birthday?

* I have a weird family ok.
** Yes, that is a real mother's day present my mother received from my father one year.
*** she loved it.

But instead, we live in a messed up world where, rather than relaxing on the anniversary of their child's birth and perhaps enjoying celebratory cocktail for keeping that child live for another year,  mothers have to spend that day experimenting with unnatural color's of frosting for their toddler's birthday cake.  It seems unfair, right?

That's why next February, I will insist that we celebrate mother's day early.  On Millie's birthday, I will enjoy 8 hours of relaxing-while-reading-heirloom-seed-catalogs, in order symbolize the 8 hours of time I was in labor with her. Then, I'll go to a prenatal yoga class and shout encouragement at all the expectant mothers. "Don't worry!" I'll lie,"Those will go back to normal!" and, uproariously-- "It's going to be hard work, but the pain is manageable!" Finally, we'll wind up the day with a little party in which all Millie's friends can all bring her shade perennials in lieu of traditional presents. I have a feeling they are really going to like the outdoor activity---a rousing game of "Spread the horse manure on Millie's Mommy's Garden!"

The key to toddler birthday parties? Food coloring.

 I recently threw a birthday party for our beloved two-year old, Millie.  Millie is now two, which means she is a BIG GIRL, and has therefore grown weary of her diapers (which are for babies),  and in no way contain images of Elmo.  It also means that she was old enough to know about *birthday parties,* and specifically that at birthday parties, she and all her friends would be allowed to eat cake.

I can't prove it, but I'm pretty sure that a toddler's social status is directly correlated to the frosting intake at her birthday party, and certainly to the unnaturalness of her frosting colors. So, if a grown-up looks at a your child's birthday cake and thinks "there is no way this frosting color originated anywhere but in a beaker of toxic chemicals, " chances are you've just helped grow your child's social capital.

No taking any chances, I decided to make Millie these  birthday cupcakes:

I was going with the theme "googly eyes," which are-- in my daughter's estimation--- the finest representation of high art. These are probably more gelatin and food-dye than flour, but they looked majestic, and my daughter actually peed her pants when she saw them. 

If you are a parent wanting to recreate these, the components are simple. Just use oreos for the eyes, mini-chocolate chips for the nose, and chocolate cupcakes with dyed homemade buttercream frosting for the "frog body".  I used the neon colors of food dye to get that perfect "color that exists nowhere in nature" look. I mixed that in with the frosting and iced the cupcakes in a very inexpert fashion.

When Millie saw the cupcakes, I knew she felt like her party was something special. My only fear is that she'll be pooping food dye this week. This could present a problem, because she's really been enjoying the new, BIG GIRL, Elmo underwear we bought her for her birthday.

Millie's Birthday Time Capsule!

Today we celebrated Millie's first birthday.  That's right, Millie is ONE.  I was racking my brain trying to decide what AWESOME gift we could get her, when I realized that she won't remember it anyways.  So, if she ever asks you about it, please tell her that for her first birthday we got her a pony but it already died.

*The pony's name was Thunder, and it had a rainbow mane.
** No young lady! Of course you can't have another pony! Not after you let the first one die!

I know I'll always remember today-- the way we woke Millie up by singing "Happy Birthday" as she bounced in her crib, how it felt to watch her open her first birthday present, and the surgical precision in which she disemboweled her birthday cake----but I'm worried that Millie will forget all about this time of her life.  That's why, for her birthday I've decided to make her this time capsule, to remind her of all the most important things in her life at year one.

Dear Millie,

Happy birthday little one!  If you're reading this time capsule, you are probably already really mad at me, because you have found this blog.*
*Just kidding, you can't stay mad at me!I bought you a pony!
Anyways, here is a sample of a few of the most important things in your life at age one: 

#1: Kingsley Snuggle Bear

You may not remember him now, but he used to be pretty much the center of your universe. He went to bed with you every night, and protected you from all the dangers of the world, such as homemade peach baby food and non-xylophone based musical expression.  

#2: Cup

Did you know that you could say "cup" when you were 8 months old?  It's true. Say it with me now. "Cup." Feel good? There was a time in your life when you had no greater thrill than to say "cup" repeatedly.  Every morning when you would wake up, you would look at me urgently and yell "CUP!" to me until we walked into the living room and found your cup. 

3#: The Television Remote

Oh what wonders lie within this magical device? What secrets will you unlock? What treasures will you seek? With what courage and fortitude will you display SUBTITLES. Millie, there was a time in which you could operate a television remote with such alarming dexterity that all but the most sophisticated technophile was POWERLESS TO STOP YOU. 

*note to self- The next time Millie is bored, take her to best buy and let her wreak havoc on the AV salesmen. 
** other note to self- while I am there, ask them to show me how to make these subtitles stop displaying. 

# 4:Bedtime Songs

When you were young Millie, I would sing you to sleep every night. I would cradle you in my arms and sing "swing low" and "edelweiss" and "plastic Jesus" to you until you shut your tiny, exhausted eyes. Then, I would creep into the other room and write snarky blog posts and drink wine, because even mommies need a break sometimes. And by "break" I mean "drink." 

#5: ROAR ROAR

This is the title of a book that you used to really love.  "ROAR ROAR" was not much of a verbal masterpiece, but it did have some pretty sweet photos of tigers, bears, and a creepy little panda cub with a fury crotch. Every day you would beg for us to read ROAR ROAR, and then you would snatch the book out of our hands and throw it across the room shouting "ROAR ROAR!"  You are awesome.

*more fury than a normal Panda crotch I mean.
** let me explain. Here is the photo of the panda crotch I'm talking about. 

It will be 15 years until you read this Millie, and by then *fingers crossed* you'll have learned not to pet panda crotches, and you probably won't let me sing you to sleep anymore. We'll probably still be fighting over the remote, but at least you'll be able to retrieve your own cup.  

Little one, I want you to know that no matter how many birthdays you have, I'll always be here with you, delighting in the things you love, and loving them because they are important to you (except your boyfriends, I will hate those guys.) I also want to make sure that you never ever forget THUNDER, your awesome childhood pony.  There's no need to thank us Millie, that's just the kind of parents we are. Happy Birthday Baby Girl!