Interim

Easter. One of us had our priorities straight.




The snow of satan:




Chocolate ice cream and the insecure spring.













We bounced on the bouncy castle:







It rained.





Daddy making English toffee:


Indy eating toffee:










Finally, I like this picture Ayla snapped of me whilst I was unawares, because my hair looks brilliantly red:

Desert Bound

Tonight I am headed to Palm Desert.

There are lots of old people there, and golf courses.

There are streets lined with country clubs, hidden behind twin rows of skinny towering palms, one after the other after the other.

Babe's is maybe the best place to eat in town and there's a pool in every yard.

It should be hot, but not too hot.(Not yet).

I am sad to be away from my girlie-kin goblin babes for Easter. Family, I know you will take good care of them, and take many pictures. I will try to call them on Easter.

I have a couple other blogs typed up but they will have to wait til after Easter.

Yesterday I was brushing Ayla's hair as she stared at herself in the mirror. She didn't want me to pin her bangs off her face. "Because I don't look like me," she moaned. She pulled her bangs down across her left eye and asked me to pin them there.

Wtf?

So I did. "Look at you," I said. "You're beautiful."

"No I'm not!" she said, tearily.

Oh no oh no oh no oh lord lord lord.

She is too young to be telling me that.

It made me pretty sad. I wrapped my arms around her from behind and rested my chin on her shoulder and told her how pretty she is. "Pretty" is a tricky concept for me. How do you assure your 4.5 year old that she's beautiful without placing too much emphasis on looks?

Disney doesn't help. Ayla wants bright red hair like Ariel. Long hair like Jasmine. Blonde hair like Cinderlla. She's too young to dislike her own looks. I watched Disney when I was young, and I don't ever remember feeling inadequate to those cartoon women-children.

But Ayla does. And it breaks my heart. I try to tell her princesses are brave and kind and rule their people justly and with love.

She doesn't buy it.

The Moody Blues

This is what we do when it snows:






They are like this all the time, just hugs and kisses non-stop, I swear:

I Will Not Say This On Record Again

Dear Noah,

You were right. I left the coffee pot on for four hours and then came back for a second cup.

Sludge.

Love,
Vesuvius

The Fears of Ayla

1) That her teeth will all fall out and she won't be able to eat anything anymore.

2) That her skin will wear off and she will become a skeleton ("I don't want it to", she says plaintively).

To be continued. . .

Princess Brittany

Boy did we have one crazy weekend.

First, we were piling into the mini on Saturday for a trip to the movie store when I was calmly informed by my daughter that a seven foot, ninety pound fairy with giant, fragile wings was lurking right behind me.

"Mom," Ayla said. "You need to get out of the way so Mariposa can get in."

I obliged, because that's what one does when being stalked by a giant, invisible, agitated member of the fae.

I did, however, risk an eternity of compulsory underground dancing and reveling subject to the whim of the Fairy King by telling Mariposa to put on her seat belt.

"She can't," Ayla told me. "It will break her wings."

Mariposa: 2. Mommy:0.

Things with Mariposa went downhill quickly when we learned what a knack she has for narrowing in on one's insecurities. "Mariposa doesn't like Daddy," Ayla informed us. "She doesn't like his hair."

Then she said, "Mariposa thinks mommy is a terrible writer and even Stephanie Meyer has better skills than mommy AND Mariposa thinks mommy could stand to lose ten pounds and her homemade cookies suck."

(Just kidding about that second part).

We pulled into the left turn lane, a motorcycle roared by, and wouldn't you know: that hoity-toity Mariposa saw fit to vanish herself right out the window.

"Brittany," Ayla said, in the superior tone of those who can see the fae, and know their ways, and are immune to their enchantments, "You have to call Mariposa back or she won't come. The noise scared shes and you have to call shes back." (Aside: Ayla still occasionally switches 'her' and 'she'). (And yes, she called me 'Brittany').

I leaned my head out the window and summoned the blue-winged witch back. She came to my beck and call.

Mariposa: 2. Mommy:1

We went into Blockbuster and Mariposa flew to perch herself atop the giant orange building across the street. (Like cats, the fae enjoy looking down on humans). She came back when we were ready to drive home without much fuss. Until daddy dared to ask:

"What do Ayla and Mariposa want for lunch?"

Utterly sure of herself, Ayla answered: "Mariposa doesn't eat anything at all."

Mariposa: 500,000,000,000,002. Mommy:1

Mariposa left after nap and even though she can fly and doesn't eat anything, I wasn't too happy to see her go. You never knew what she was gonna do next.

Without the company of the fairy, and thus without the fear of the Will-o'-the-wisp, we set out to the park. Not the Orange park, or the Joker park, but the Blue park. Where I learned this: Turns out all a mommy has to do to get a little respect is don a princess crown.

For the next hour, I was Princess, daddy was Prince/Monster, Ayla was Mariposa, and Indy was Dragon Slayer. Apparently Ayla's main impression of Princesses is that they can't do a damn thing themselves. She spoke gently to me. Calmly she would take "Princess's" hand and say "C'mon, Princess, you have to hide over here now", or "This way, Princess, hurry up now, so the monster won't get you." Monster Prince chased us around the monkey bars. Indy was terrified and clung to me until I thought to arm her with a sword.

She knew exactly what to do.

Promptly, she whipped Monster Prince across the back.

Later, at dinner, Ayla told Princess to tell Prince to fetch Us Our royal mangoes.

I told Prince that We do not hold to insubordination and that a disobedient Prince should not be suffered to live.

Ayla said, if Prince does it, we won't kill him. But if he says no, we will.

Prince fetched Our mangoes.

Then Princess decided We shall have dancing, but Ayla could not be obliged. So Princess herself gave a demonstration.

"That wasn't very beautiful dancing," sniffed her royal heinous Mariposa-Ayla.

And that was the end of that.

The Girls in the Trees

Grandpa came to visit. Thus we drank good wine.

In Case You Are Not My Family

If you are not in my family.

If you have stumbled upon this blog by googling "picasa" or "stick ponies" or "dr. horrible blog", be forewarned: You will not be very interested by all this.

Sorry.

I am working on a book right now that I hope will entertain you greatly. When it's done, I'll let you know.

Until then, I intend to keep sharing anecdotes and pictures because this blog is for my family. And my daughters, one day.

Not that I mind you poking around.

So without further ado:

Our life in film

A typical day in the life of my family. Someone plots revenge. Someone sings. Someone makes a penis joke.

Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog

If we are forced to go in and wake Indy up from her nap, we find her in a certain mood.

She is grumpy. She is feeling a bit sorry for herself. In her heart of hearts, she is willing to be made cheerful--but she is not willing to let us know that she is willing to be cheerified.

So she pouts prettily and hides a creeping smile. Like so:







Ayla and Indy would like to thank Grandma and Papa for their Valentine's day gift cards, with which they picked out Play-Dough and a flute, and a winged fairy dress, respectively.



Vesuvius and the Brewmaster would like to thank Grandma and Papa for almost an hour of peaceful, uninterrupted play between the Goblins, whilst Mr. and Mrs. Vesuvius were able to battle it out on the Wii, and sip manhattans.



In case Auntie Mercy and Uncle Bandman were wondering, Ayla still thoroughly enjoys the massive feline predators you felt were an appropriate gift.



I know many of you were wondering about the view from underneath Ayla's bed during naptime. Ayla thought we should not hold out on you any further. She took the camera while mommy wasn't looking, and did her thing. Thus, you are enlightened:





I don't know what this is. Ayla maintains it is "the bish" (fish). I suppose they have been appearing to her all along during afternoon dreamtime, and she has simply neglected to mention it.



Still not sure how she managed to take this one of herself. Maybe one of the bish obliged her. Maybe someone else appears during dreamtime, other than the bish:




Ayla enjoys reading to JasminePlutoEvaWallEZeldaKid.




Yesterday she told me "I don't want my teeth to fall. Then I won't eat anything!"

In case you've been wondering how those little "Rainbow Cakes"--pink, green, and yellow with chocolate frosting--that have appeared at King Soopers taste: like marzipan.

There you have it.