August is 6!
August had a Lego Star Wars party for his sixth birthday. We invited his cousins Charles and Hudson and neighbor Liam to celebrate.
No one was interested in pizza or root beer or apples or cuties. The only thing the boys cared about were Legos.
Looking at these pictures, I think, hm, this looks no fun at all. But I think they did have some fun. It’s possible. This was the last of three birthdays and an anniversary, so I for one was happy to have a lower key day.
Augie requested a BB8 cake, which I took on with great enthusiasm, similar to the enthusiasm Kyle displayed as he lit the candles poking out of BB8’s head and body.
Fire!
Presents!
Legos!
Power Rangers!
More Legos!
Silly faces!
Fun was had by all. Pretty sure.
Adelaide is 9!
For Adelaide’s ninth birthday, we had a wild animal party with her friends.
There was (pretty awesome) face painting.
Adelaide and I made an ice cream cake at her request. We used this recipe. She wanted it to look like a bear face, but I didn’t feel good about cutting up a bear face (plus, I wasn’t sure if I could make it look like a bear and not a round-faced cat). So I convinced her to make it a safari cake instead.
Here’s a rare sighting of me. The candles were hard to light.
My wild bunch.
Happy birthday to yooooou…
Make a wish!
Now everybody grab a tiny animal.
Present time!
A doll gardening set from Soren (she’s the giraffe behind the box).
A DIY journal kit from Sophie.
Camping Legos from Preston.
Sidewalk chalk and sprinkler fun from Emma and Shyloh (not pictured, since they had to go to a soccer game).
A ballet bag, sweater and book from cousin (and fellow ballerina) Elizabeth.
Fun markers and art supplies from Ruby. And Adelaide acting like a monkey.
Then they did cool kid stuff like sitting on walls.
Happy birthday, Adelaide! Hope this year is the best yet.
And a big shout-out to Aunt Megan for the pictures!
Hazel is 3!
Hazel turned 3 today! Let’s see, what can we say about Hazel? Hazel likes:
- Riding her bike
- Wearing her bike helmet
- Playing with Augie
- Fighting with Augie
- Stealing Augie’s Beanie Babies
- Eating yogurt, broccoli, and Honey Nut Cheerios (not together)
- Watching Peppa Pig and Minnie Mouse
- Making messes and cleaning up
- Reading books like Tubby, Yes, Yes No, No and Go, Dog. Go!
- Giving eskimo kisses and saying “mugga mugga”
- Bathtime
- Curling up in a chair and falling asleep
Words that describe Hazel:
- Affectionate – she loves to cuddle
- Independent – she prefers to do things on her own
- Smart – she’s picking up new words and activities every day
- Small – at 30% for height and weight, she’s our littlest love
- Brave – ready or not, she jumps into your arms without fear
She’s pretty great, even though she acts like a threenager sometimes.
Good timing
My Dad took Adelaide and August to Disneyland one morning, with plans to meet up with Kyle and me later. When Kyle and I arrived at the park with Hazel a few hours later, Kyle noticed the photo queue at the entrance of Disneyland was short, and why don’t we take a picture?
We rarely take photos with park photographers, but hey, why not.
We got in line, and as we stepped up to take a picture, we heard “Emily! Emily!” behind us. Having a common first name, I hear “Emily, Emily!” at Disneyland pretty much every visit, so I ignored it at first. But when the photographer motioned behind me, we turned around to see my Dad calling us from up above. He was with Adelaide and August in the Disneyland Railroad train car, which had just rolled into the Main Street station.
A few days with Dad, Megan, and Perry
One fine spring day, we went to Disneyland with Dad (a.k.a. Grandpa Percy), Megan (“Aunt Megan”), and Perry (“Uncle Perry”).
We hung out on Main Street.
We drank coffee and ate cake pops.
We posed in front of the train station.
We saw the world through small eyes.
We waited for fireworks, but if I remember correctly, they got canceled “due to winds at high elevations…”
(But that’s OK, it just gave us time for pictures.)
Funny, it looks like the person in the background is wearing the same shoes as Adelaide.
And we did a lot of rides and shows ‘n’ stuff.
On the last morning, we went to breakfast at the Original Pancake House.
We waited and read the menu.We waited and picked dandelions.
We waited and drank non-dairy creamers.
We waited and played the guitar and sang.
We waited and played in the grass…
…rolling down hills…
…and walking back up, hand-in-hand.
Finally, we got a booth.
Thumbs up.
There were clouds in my coffee.
Not pictured: Swedish pancakes, German pancakes, buttermilk pancakes, bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, and an omelette.
We took a group photo with a self timer.
Then we hit the road.
Christmas in the Cruiser
Who could’ve known
I wouldn’t have thought
That I’d be spending Christmas
In a Denny’s parking lot
– Excerpt from Kyle’s “Merry Cars-mas” — a joke song that turned out to be prophetic
(Foreshadowing, foreshadowing…)
Since moving back to SoCal in October, we’ve been a little bit—How do you say?—”homeless” as we figure out how-in-the-world to pay double what we’ve ever paid for rent in Los Angeles.
(We’re getting there.)
Enter our Land Cruiser, a.k.a. Car-V, our SUV-turned-makeshift-camper-van that’s sheltered us throughout our summer road trip. We’ve spent a handful of nights in the Cruiser in between nights spent in hotels and family members’ homes.
Once it became clear that we likely wouldn’t have a house of our own before Christmas, we started brainstorming: how could we make Christmas in the car fun for the kids?
Disneyland? Too expensive.
Sacramento with the grandparents? Too far.
What if we camped in the Cruiser on Christmas Eve and the kids awoke to SNOW in the mountains? We could make snow angels and go sledding. It would be our kids’ first white Christmas, just like the ones we used to know.
Of course, it would only work if there was *snow* on Christmas, and in the week leading up to Christmas, the forecast for Christmas Eve was 50 degrees and raining in Crestline, one of the closest mountain towns.
Then Hazel contracted norovirus. (You know, the virus that makes you throw up.) In the days leading up to Christmas, we went down like dominoes: Hazel got it, Kyle got it, I got it, Augie got it, and then Adelaide got it. But it was a 24-hour virus, and Adelaide recovered on the eve of Christmas Eve.
Meanwhile, the forecast had turned, and what once was a raincloud was replaced by a big ol’ snowflake. We set our sights on Snow Valley, a ski resort on the way to Big Bear that has a snow play area with a big sledding hill, a chairlift, and manmade snow, just in case.
Kyle and I couldn’t wait.
Christmas Eve, Kyle led a candlelight service in Camarillo, while the kids and I attended our church’s service in Newbury Park.
After service, we enjoyed a festive holiday dinner with relatives before setting out for Highland, where we would spend the night before heading up the mountain on Christmas morning.
We found a decent place to park and got the car into sleep mode: we folded down the middle seats, pulled out the sleeping platform, unfolded the memory foam mattress, slid out another platform for the kids, until finally we were nestled all snug in our beds, while visions of sugarplums danced in our heads.
Until…
Three a.m. on Christmas morning, I awoke with a start.
Or more specifically, I awoke with vomit on my face.
Adelaide had round two of the flu, and unfortunately, we were sleeping just inches away. Even worse, she’d thrown up all over her pajamas and blankets.
We were in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night on Christmas.
Nothing was open.
Nothing, except…
Denny’s.
Adelaide and I smiled politely at the host as we shuffled through the doors and headed for the women’s restroom, where I helped Adelaide change into new jammies and washed the vomit out of her hair. We emerged 15 minutes later, mostly clean, mostly dry, and smelling faintly of cherry vanilla hand soap.
We walked back to the Cruiser, where Kyle had cleaned up inside and bundled up the soiled blankets.
Once again, all was calm. And all was bright, thanks to the pink-orange parking lot lights overhead.
Now what?
If Adelaide was really sick again, we’d need access to a bathroom. But should we drive 90 minutes back to town with a nauseated kid? And to where, exactly? Or maybe we should find a hotel nearby. But it was already 4 a.m., and by the time we checked in, we’d only have a few hours before checkout.
And what about Christmas for Augie and Hazel?
We decided to stay put and sleep in the Denny’s parking lot.
And, miraculously, it all worked out.
Toilet milk
Kyle found a pack of MadLibs at a thrift store, and we’ve started doing one MadLib at night as part of the kids’ bedtime routine. I like that it’s helping them learn about nouns, verbs, and adjectives, but I’m finding that Augie’s answers are weirdly specific.
Me: Okay, Adelaide. Give me an adjective.
Adelaide: Toilet! (A perennial favorite.)
Me: August, give me an animal.
August: A cheetah making piano sounds!
Me: Okaaay…Adelaide. Noun.
Adelaide: A monkey.
Me: August, plural noun.
August: People wearing foxtails and foxes wearing cattails!
Me: Okay, I’ll just write “foxtails.” Adelaide, noun.
Adelaide: Bright.
Me: August, give me a noun.
August: A monkey holding a heart.
Me: (Where does he get this stuff?) Adelaide, adjective.
Adelaide: Tight.
Me: August, adjective.
August: (in a deep voice) A GIANT LEGO.
Me: Adelaide, noun.
Adelaide: Dog.
Me: August, noun.
August: Giant iPad.
Me: Adelaide, adjective.
Adelaide: Dark.
Me: August, noun.
August: A pipe with a shoe in it!
Me: Okay…almost done. Adelaide, adjective.
Adelaide: Rough.
Me: August, liquid.
August: Toilet milk.