Superbowling

Superbowl-pajama party.  Double win!

The day before Superbowl, we had a fun but very busy day- we were jetting from one activity to another for 12 hours.  So on Sunday, we really didn't feel like getting back on the road. Mister was practically threatening revolt if He had to miss one more nap.  But we still wanted to have all the most important elements of a good Superbowl party:  chips, dips, game, good company.

So we decided to throw our own family Superbowl party!  

For dinner we had nachos (Little One's thanks to daiya vegan cheese), chips, raw veggies, and lots of home-made dips.  The Sisters thought it was about the most awesome thing ever.  

Missy was unimpressed by the football ("They don't even SAY anything.  They jus' run AWOUND.  This is a boh-ring movie")  but She sat and watched, and waited for the halftime show.  

And then fell fast asleep during the commercial break before the halftime show, and missed it.  

Little One has long liked to watch football, and She was super into the game.  She didn't like the commercials, but loved the football, and the halftime show (during Missy Elliot- "I don't know what they call this dance- but I. LOVE. IT!) and, also, the chips.  

She almost made it to the end of the game, but got too tired.  

Little One: "How much more of the game is there?" 

C: "Well we are in the 3rd quarter, and - how many quarters in a whole?"

LO: "In a what?"

C: "A whole. How many quarters do you need for a whole?"

LO: "What?! You don't need any quarters for a whole. All you need is a shovel!" 

One Fish, Two Fish

Little One recently developed a love of rabbits.  She asked for one for Christmas, and was valiantly thankful when She got one- that was plush and stuffed. "Fluffy" has become a favorite, but She still kept asking for a real bunny.  To be Her very own, to care for and love.
Soon Missy was drawn into pining for a pet, and their little hearts were just bleeding all over the place making a huge mess.  So J and I had a powwow; we needed a plan.
Soon after, I surprised the Sisters with a visit to the aquarium store.

We oohed and aahhed over all the exotic creatures, and then stopped and fell in love with the stand of vivid, flowy betta fish.  I pulled them aside and presented The Deal.
IF they earned all the money needed to buy the fish, AND all the stuff fishes need, and IF they promised to take care of the fish and understood that I really, seriously, no seriously, would take-the-fishes-right-back-where-they-came from-so-help-me in the case they weren't being taken care of, THEN they could have a fish.  Of their very, very own.  To be In Charge of, to love, to name, and to keep.
Well, Little One mused, it's not quite a bunny.  But still super great! We had a deal.
They patiently listened to the pet shop guy preach about all that would be needed to care for this menagerie of one.  We added up the cost.  And went home to the chore chart.

All of those flowers are responsibilities the Littles are expected to complete each and every day.  But in the little basket there are stars with extra chores they may do to earn money.  There are plenty of options, but since they have not yet figured out how to form a union, the wages for these tasks are quite low- a quarter to vacuum, 10 cents to polish the fingerprints off the chairs.  They did lots of extra chores to add to their piggy banks.

Chopping veggies

Working hard for the money

Mister wanted to help too

Baking brownies from a recipe.  All I did was put them in and out of the oven. And eat them.  I did lots of that.

Plus, they have both been hoarding money since forever.  They each spent some money at Christmas buying presents for each other and for Mister, but otherwise they've scrooged it up in their room every time they find a penny on the sidewalk or rake in cash from selling their old toys at a yard sale.

They also pooled their resources, both in terms of labor and cash, and decided to share a jar of fish food and water conditioner, to save on overhead. Wise financial planning.

Also, all my cheap ways have rubbed off on them. Rather than buy the pricey glass bowls and marbles at the fish store, they chose to shop for these supplies at the thrift store.  They carefully compared prices in the glass isle, and chose less expensive options.

So before we knew it, our little laborers had saved up all they needed.  They were just a little excited about reaching their goal.

Finally, the big day came.  The bowls and rocks were clean, filled, and temperature acclimated.  The pennies and nickels were counted and packed up.  When I got home from yoga class, the Sisters were at the window, and were jumping into their shoes and jackets before I got through the door.

We drove to the aquarium store and the Littles explained their purpose (by which I mean shouted it while jumping up and down giggling), and the manager was all about it.  He told them all about how wonderful they were, and gave them a veritable college course in betta-fish ownership.  They listened, they nodded.  They asked a few questions.  And then.  Drumroll please.

They got to pick out the perfect fish.  It took a good long time, but in the end they were certain they had chosen just the very exactly perfect, right fish for them.


Little One chose a robust and vivid blue fish with red underfins which swam and swirled quite like a peacock.  Blue like the ocean, She named it "Wave".

Missy selected a slender, docile, pale pink opalescent fish with a few purple spots.  She'd had the name ready a long time- "Smiley".

We've brought them home, released them from their dixie cups into their new, slightly larger habitats, and they have been quite doted upon already.

Smiley and Wave have joined us at the dinner table, they've been shown countless drawings made just for them, they have been sung to and talked to and cooed at.  They are each read bedtime stories by their new girl, and placed on the bedside table to "almost cuddle" through the night.

It will be very interesting to see how these relationships play out.  For now though, I'm happy to think that some message about work ethics and economics must have filtered in through the excitement, I'm happy to have had so much laundry sorted for me, and I must admit they are pretty and fun to watch.  Mister and I spent half an hour sitting together today, peacefully eating banana slices and watching them swirl.
Of course, part of that time I was thinking, "What are we doing all I need is another two creatures to keep alive around here".  But after laying in bed this morning, listening to Missy croon love songs to Smiley, and after Little One whizzed through Her homework yesterday with Wave's "help", I confess it's true.  The more, the merrier!

The first leg of our journey led us back to familiar territory.
I have mentioned before the church that the Sisters were baptized in; it's the same one J (and much of his family, all the way back to the 1700s) got baptized in.  Naturally, to carry on the tradition, we wanted Little Mister baptized there, as well.  Unfortunately, we had a really hard time making it happen. It's a long story, but the problem was some red tape.  Catholic red tape is particularly red, after all.  A deep, dark red. Blood-into-wine red, you might say.  After months of trying to get through it, we finally were able to schedule His big day- so long as it was yesterday.  Good thing we didn't have anything else going on, like a move or a big family vacation or anything.
The morning of the baptism, we woke in our hotel to blinding rain.  So much rain, that the place J was supposed to leave his car during our trip was flooded. Yikes. So we ditched it at the airport, sat for two hours at the entrance to the tunnel (good riddance to you, Virginia Beach tunnels!  You, I will not miss.  Not even a little.), and finally made it to the church.
The family that was able to get off of work at the last minute on a Friday was there, and the priest who baptized Miss drove all the way from his new church in DC just to baptize Mister.
Even after a long, hard day, Little Mister was every bit the angel during the whole thing.  Ever the little water-bug, He actually smiled and cooed as the cool water was poured over His head.  During the parts where the priest asks questions of the parents and godparents, Little Mister congenially joined the conversation,  goo-ing and giggling and blowing raspberries.  He grinned at His adoring fans.
He got baptized, we took some pictures, and celebrated it all with a dinner out at a favorite family place on the water, right by the house J lived in as a child.  We stayed with J's aunt, and Little One stayed up WAY past bedtime playing with Her cousin.
It was worth all the trouble it took to make it happen, and turns out to have been a great start to our trip, despite the most thoroughly exploded diaper imaginable, thankfully at the very end of the day.   Oh, well, Peanuts.  Hopefully His soul stays cleaner than His fancy white outfit.  As for J?  Who picked Him up out of the car seat?  I guess you could say he got "baptized" too.  Who says the Big Guy doesn't have a sense of humor?

It was pretty funny, wasn't it Mr?


Photos from the day:

Ready to get some baptizing on

"Bathtizing" each other with holy water. Puppy got bathtized, too. 

Playing at the restaurant

These two crack each other up.  And me.  

She looks a little different since he baptized Her, two and a half years ago!

Our sweet angel boy.  

Sea Ya Party

Well, Peanuts.  the countdown is on.  Less than two weeks until we ship out (ok, drive out.  We're driving.  But since the Navy has instigated the whole ordeal, we're going nautical. Mateys.)
To say a big goodbye to the friends we've made here, we got some of them together in our yard over the weekend and celebrated.  Nothing soothes the pain of leaving like some cupcakes, amiright? Chocolate is the answer to everything.

Well, actually.  Good friends are the answer.  It's a pretty great day, when we get both.

Little One Found Jesus. He Was Wearing Sequins.

Have you ever been to a Catholic Mass?
We're Catholics around here.  For you nons, let me tell you. It is serious business.
It's largely the same every time; stand up, sit down, kneel, recite, pray.  The message of each service changes but the structure does not, and the seriousness does not.  We do not mess around.  Nobody can get a witness in a Catholic mass.  We shush and listen to the man in the dress.
J and I, we're some Catholics.  Some of us more somber than other.  (ahem...J). 
But we've never really found a "home" church here.  So we haven't attended much mass in Virginia.
BUT.  As every lazy Catholic knows, skipping Mass is one thing.  And skipping EASTER Mass is another.  Easter is the one time each year that all the closet Catholics get dressed and make an appearance.  We take for granted that we will at least go to church on Easter.
We decided, though, that since we're hosting a brunch tomorrow, we would do a Saturday evening Mass instead of Sunday morning (totally permissible by Catholic standards).
And.  Since we don't really have a special church, and since Little One has been asking since we moved in to go to the church down the street, and since it was, after all, right down the street- and had an earlier evening service than the nearby Catholic place...we decided, what the heck?  Let's try something new. Let's go to the big church with the billboard and the waterfall.  It isn't Catholic.  But it's Christian. Tomato, Tomahto.  Right?  Right.
So.
Peanuts.
We walked in.  This church, it had a gift shop.  And! A coffee shop.  Whoa.  And it was huge.  And had movie theatre seats.  With a big stage in front, all fancy with fire and stuff.  Little Miss was like, "Um...what are we doing?  I thought it was for chuh-ch?" We rolled with it.
By the way we are all dressed up.  Fancy Easter dresses and such.  Someone asked the girls if they's recently been flower girls.  Nope, lady.  We just get formal when we're Catholic.  Nice leopard-print tights, though.  Also awesome.
The girls came with their "church bags"; little purses with crayons, notebooks, stickers.  I even included a lollipop I was so concerned they hush during Easter Mass.
Little did we know.  Not only was this a very different sort of church than we're used to (different is good, you know), but unbeknownst to us, it was not going to be "church" at all.
It was going to be.  A musical.  
Yes.  It was going to be a TWO AND A HALF HOUR musical play about Jesus- manger to ascension.  The pastor got up at the beginning and we all prayed for the lighting and sound crew.  The  Littles looked at me like,  "What the communion is going on here?"  The live band plugged their electric guitars into some  *VERY POWERFUL* amps, and the show began.  Little Mister's eyes got very large.  But He sucked away at that pacifier and kept quiet.  Not that you could have heard Him if He's screamed; my ears are still ringing.  Despite the decibels, Missy began to nod with Her lollipop candy (it broke off the stick) in Her mouth. It terrified J and I until She finally chomped it up and went to sleep in the second act.  Mister went in and out the whole time- mostly out.
But Little One.
I mean, it was a *musical*.  In the bathroom at intermission (all my Catholics are like, "at the WHAT now?!") yes, at the intermission, Little One excitedly told me, "Mom! I love this! It is so NOT-boring, I don't even need all my crayons and stuff! I don't even need any-thing! It's so a'citing!" 
Yes.  She was excited for the whole thing.  She asked lots of questions and payed close attention.  She did a little bounce, a little sway, when the gospel songs got rocking.  She may have held a hand up, every now and again.
At the end, the pastor got up and did some talking. He asked if anyone was coming to Jesus tonight.  If anyone was feeling the spirit.  People raised their hands.  Little One raised Her hand.  Miss and Mister continued to sleep.  He asked everyone who was finding or re-finding Jesus to come to the front.  I let Her go.  I saw Her fly down the isle in a blur of silver-pink dress and billowing hair.
But the crowds got so large I began to worry.  So, with Little Mister asleep in my arms, I made my way down to the front of the seats.  Little One was in the VERY front, both Her hands raised high, listening to the pastor and not caring, particularly, whether I was there or not.  But I stayed.
The the guy said that all of us in the front, who had just found Jesus, would be counseled. And suddenly! There was a woman at my arm asking my name, address, and email.
Um.
Ok, so.  I figured, they won't hound a little kid, right?  So I panicked and threw mine under the bus.
"Um...I....I-I....ask Her!"  I pointed to Little One.  "I.....I just...followed Her up here." 
I dunno, guys.  I kind of thought she'd leave it alone if it was just a little kid.  But no. The lady asked Little One to spell Her name and address and took it all down.  I was just trying to get out of giving out my phone number and email, when Little One saved me by pulling at my dress and plaintively begging, "Jesus! Jesus!!" 
She'd asked me earlier, so I knew.  And I explained to the address-lady.  "She said She really wants...to meet Jesus." 
She did, guys.  She  had been begging since the crucifixion.  She wanted a photo with him.
Lady was touched.  She said,  "You want to meet Jesus?  Let's meet some Jesus."
And she took Little One's hand.  And without even acknowledging this over-protective parent, off they went.  Backstage.
A moment later, J popped up cradling a sleeping Missy.  I was cradling sleeping Mister.
"Where's Little One?" He asked.  And I could only answer,
"She... She...She's gone to be with Jesus."
She had.
A friendly usher ushered us backstage, too, and there She was.  Jesus, who had been Risen and exalted, was standing there in his stage make-up and purple, sequined Jesus gown.  Little One had stars in Her eyes. At Her bequest, we snapped a photo and about a dozen people remarked on the adorable piousness of Little One as we made our way out.
Even though the length of this production put even a Catholic Mass to shame (no easy feat) I'm glad we went. For one thing, I believe that trying new things and different things is important.  And this thing was about as far from a Catholic Mass as you could fly and still say "Jesus".
For another, the kids had a great time; it was like going to a loud, slightly off-key broadway show.
Also, though, it told the Christian Easter story like no book ever could.
At one point, listening to the dialogue, Little One asked me, "Mommy, what's a 'sacrifice'?" 
Do moms ever know the answer to that one.
In the end I think She actually got a lot out of it, and J and I had to laugh just a little as we hauled our Littles back home to bed. Because of course.
Of course  if Little One is going to find Jesus- She would find Him onstage.

Miss Gives Away Her Birthday Gifts

When we were planning Little Miss's Kitty party, the cat adoption activity brought on a talk about animal shelters and cats that don't have families to live with.  It made Missy sad, and She asked if we could bring some birthday cake to the "sad kitties" to cheer them up.  I had to explain that cake probably wasn't the best food for a cat, but that She could always choose to ask for cat things at Her party, and share those.  Missy jumped at that plan, and so instead of gifts for Herself, She chose to ask guests to bring cat items to be donated to the local shelter.  This past weekend we gathered everything up and headed over to deliver them in person.

Miss at the shelter with some of Her birthday gifts  

Helping Hands

The shelter volunteers were wonderful; they were very excited about the supplies and even gave Miss a birthday cupcake as a thank-you.

Missy was pretty excited about that, but the best part was getting to go into the cat room to give toys and play with the cats.


She was in Little Miss heaven.  She gently pet and talked to all the cats, and one black and white kitty was especially fond of Her.  She got in lots of furry cuddles and was all smiles!

We dosed Little One that morning with allergy medicine, dressed Her in layers so She could peel off Her furry cardigan, and washed all over in the bathroom right after. So She got to participate in the visit, too, and though She sneezed and itched a little the rest of the day, it was worth it.

The girls also got a personal tour of the shelter, visiting dogs, bunnies, ferrets, rats, and birds.

We wrapped it up with an outing to our family's favorite restaurant for lunch, and it was an awesome day!  In our family, we do make-a-fuss birthday parties, and we consider that to be our gift to our birthday child.  So almost all the packages Miss unwrapped this year went to the shelter.
It's true that little kids love getting presents on their birthdays. But a new toy loses its novelty value and soon ends up with the others on a shelf somewhere.  Our Littles are very lucky to have generous grandparents and aunts who never let them go a year without a box arriving with something special just for them, and I think that the gifts they receive are more appreciated when they come from revered grandparents, and don't get lost in a mountain of coloring books and plastic ponies.
Besides which, I can honestly say to all the friends who brought donations to Her party, that they gave Her a gift far beyond the value of a bag of cat food.  For the worlds' greatest lover of cats, a whole morning surrounded by kitties was priceless.  I don't think any object could possibly have pleased Her more.
And though of course I can only surmise, I think that the feeling of being thanked by the shelter staff and seeing the cats bat at and chase the toys She brought them will outlast the memory of any toy we could have bought Her.
Sometimes, the best gift is the chance to give.