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So apparently, if you’ve got a kid, the best time to fly is 5 p.m. on a Tuesday.  It was practically an all-kid flight, and that was fine because the plane was only about 1/4 full, so all the child-free passengers retreated to the quieter rear of the plane, while all the parents juggled their wiggly worms in the front.  Moo jumped from my lap to Herbie’s lap and ate animal crackers all the way back to Phoenix, and soon enough Herbie was laying our sleepy baby back in her cozy bed.

Luckily I cleaned the house before we left so we didn’t have that awful feeling of coming home to a house full of ick.  The bed is made, and our lovely new Tivo had hours worth of entertainment waiting for me, so I flung myself on the couch, inhaled three turkey burgers (mini-size) and caught up on Saturday Night Live. Apparently, there’s some sort of political event occuring next week…?

Our last day in Seattle was lovely but rushed.  We all overslept, so Liesl and Calvin were late to school and headed out the door before we could even say goodbye.  We stopped by later and forced Calvin to give us hugs (in the hallway so his friends wouldn’t see – gotta be cool when you’re a third-grader), and Moo protested the farewell, crying, “No, Calvin, No!” when he left, and whimpering all the way back to the house.

In the meantime, Liesl and I headed to my old place of employment, Fury Extradorinary Consignment, the best consignment shop in the world and the best job I’ve ever had.  Working at Fury, I spent my days putting cute outfits on mannequins, ogling (okay, molesting) the Chanel dresses clients brought in, and abusing my employee discount.  So a trip to Seattle is not complete without a trip to Fury, and Liesl and I spent a couple hours trying on everything in the store.  I had a great big pile of loot and texted Herbie to find out my budget (since he’s the breadwinner and all) and he refused to give me a number, telling me to “use my best judgment.”  Grrr!  He so enjoys torturing me this way.  So I put the pink Theory sweater back and felt better about showing Herbie the receipt, but will probably dream about that sweater every night for 30 days.  I think it might be dreaming about me, too.  I weep for you, Theory sweater!

Zooming back to the house, Herbie and I crammed our purchases in our suitcases, nearly left Caa behind a pillow on the couch (the horror!), and hopped into a towncar driven by the Guy Who Can Tell You His Entire Life Story In 20 Minutes Including His Wife’s Sad Demise And His Job Fleecing Sheep In New Zealand And Also Charge You $20 More Than He Quoted.  So that was special.

But now we’re home, Moo is sweetly sleeping, I am well-Tivoed, well-fed, and well-vacationed, and nooooooo I am not at all ready to start the rehearsal madness once again tomorrow evening.

Uh, what was the name of that show I’m in?

Blub Blub Blub

Moo had a rough time saying goodbye to Calvin as he went off to school today, yelling, “Come back, come back!” as he drove away, but luckily we thought of the perfect Calvin-blues antidote: polka-dot fishes.

Water and the things that swim in it are so foreign to Moo, living in the desert.  It took her a little while to shake her unease with the fish at the Seattle Aquarium – of course, it didn’t help that we started with the octopus, who in real life looks nothing like her smiley, turquoise friend Boing the Octopus back home.  But we were in luck – the Seattle Aquarium chose to embrace pagan traditions and quite quirkily dropped pumpkins in most of the fish tanks.  Pumpkins everywhere, hooray!

Moo loved the diving birds, the seahorses, and any fish with polka dots.  I never knew so many fish have polka dots – how are polka dots a good camouflage technique – do they look like bubbles?  We saw a water snake and a water worm (a.k.a. eels), and Moo declared the otters cute, and then started yelling at them to wake up.  “I so happy!” she declared as we strolled outside to show her the boats on the waterfront – but they were so gigantic she couldn’t even register them as boats.  Whatever – our baby is tottering around announcing her happiness to the world, and life is so freaking good.

Before we went back to cousin Calvin’s house, we stopped to the Seattle Art Museum’s newish outdoor sculpture park so we could enjoy every moment of cool autumn air, and so Moo and I could run around in the grass and be airplanes.

Introducing Hop and Caa to the fishes: 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wonder of wonders!  Horses in the sea!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hello, water worm, nice to meet you!” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seattle Art Museum’s Olympic Sculpture Park:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hello, Pumpkins. My Name is Moo!

Moo’s pumpkin dreams came true yesterday when we visited a pumpkin patch at Jubilee Farm near Seattle.  And not only do they have giant fields full of pumpkins (that you take a tractor-pulled hayride to visit), but they also have horses, pumpkin catapults, giant mud puddles, a hay maze, and an indoor bee hive (I chose to stand at the far end of the room for that – I’m always the one contorting like a Cirque de Soleil gymnast when a bee flies by).

It’s days like these that Herbie and I look at each other and say, “Uhhh, why did we move back to Phoenix again?”

(DO NOT ANGER THE PHOENIX-RESIDING GRANDPARENTS WITH SUCH RHETORICAL QUESTIONS, SELF!  Also, remember that it is colder than a penguin’s penis (penguins don’t have penises, do they – shoot) in Seattle during the winter.)

Some snapshots of the merriment:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And at long last, Moo finally got to meet her namesake:

 
 It’s Mama Rose and Moo!

Or, as Moo reported:  “Real cow, Mommy!  Big big big big BIG cow!”

“Fall Festival” (a.k.a. Halloween Carnival)

Apparently schools these days have to pretend that Halloween doesn’t exist to please religious parents, even while allowing haunted houses, jack o’lanterns, and costumed-kids galore to run amuck at the so-called Fall Festival.   Grrrr.   Let’s embrace our pagan heritage, people!  Don’t Americans have some sort of pagan heritage?  No?  Oh yes, I’m thinking of the Puritans.  I think I took a class on them once.  They were quite religious, weren’t they.  Whoops.

Anyway, cousin Calvin was kind enough to invite us to his school’s Halloween Carnival (THAT’S RIGHT!) yesterday, and we happily trailed along.  Moo is deeply infatuated with dear Calvin, following him from room to room and requiring constant updates on his status if he’s out of view for a moment. 

Moo couldn’t quite keep up with him at the Carnival, but she seemed content to stand around and let people admire her pumpkin costume.

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Calvin is “Calvin” from Calvin and Hobbes - CalvinCalvinCalvin.  So you see I had some inspiration for his pseudonym.  Moo doesn’t quite look so loving toward dear Calvin here, but it’s pretty hard to get an 8-year-old and an 18-month-old to both look cute at the same time.   Calvin won this round.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What are we looking at? I look like I just saw a butterfly alight on a tiger’s nose.  Whatever – what’s really important is how awesome I look in kittycat ears.  I wish I could wear those every day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yes, she does have a little pumpkin to carry around.  It’s all about the accessories for me.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Obligatory let’s-pose-on-a-hay-bale picture, hooray!

Lessons Learned On Our 8 p.m. Flight From Phoenix to Seattle:

1.  At 19 months, Moo will no longer sleep on the plane.

2.  At 19 months, Moo really needs her own seat.

3.  Even though the creepiest-looking person you’ve ever seen in your life is sitting next to you, it doesn’t mean that he’s going to blow up the plane.

4.  It still might not hurt to pray to God to please not let the creepy person sitting next to you blow up the plane.

5.  Always make sure to thank God when the creepiest-looking person you’ve ever seen in your life moves to a different seat because his headphone jack is broken.

6.  If you try to change your daughter into her pajamas at midnight, after she’s FINALLY fallen asleep in the car on the way from the airport, she will scream like a demon-devouring hell-baby (I don’t even know what that is, but it sounds about right).

7.  When you finally let your daughter sleep in bed with you and your husband, and the household cat starts meowing loudly in the next room, you will reconsider your stance against murdering household cats.

8.  When you’re trying to sleep in the same bed as your squirmy baby and husband, you will lay there uncomfortably and recall a year ago when you visited Seattle, and a rude, nosy woman getting off the plane commented on your sweetly sleeping baby and said, “Just wait until she’s two.  You’ll never travel again.”  You think she may have been right.