Kids Giving Me Lip. The Unibrow of Cookies. And Disco Pics!

Nate's preschool disco on Saturday was a rousing success! Let me tell you, if you've never seen 50 3 and 4 year olds boogie down on the dance floor...well, then you've never seen it. Nate had been practicing what he called his "booty dance" for a week, but got pretty shy once we got there. We did get a few moves out of him, though:

(Oh--sorry for the crap-tastic nature of these photos. 'Twas dark in there and I was using the camera on my phone. And it was dark. And I was dazzled by the flashing lights.)

Even though his preschool mates weren't treated to the full glory of Nate's booty dance, I think he had a good time. He certainly liked the tambourine.

I couldn't get him to smile at me. He was like, "Mother, I am attempting a complicated syncopation to 'YMCA'. I have no time for pleasantries. Let me work." I have never seen someone shake a tambourine so solemnly! But the best part was when the DJ played the "Bob the Builder" theme song. Hello, hilarious! How many club scenes feature that song? I was outside the building at that point, and I could hear the DJ yell into the mic, "Can we fix it?" And all the kids shouted as one, "YES WE CAN!" And then the party got crrrazy. I think I woulda gone clubbing more in my younger years if it had been more like that! Lord, I love this age.

Ava had a friend from her class over to play yesterday. She is a sweet little girl, but a bit quirky. All year she has been asking me if she can come over to play at our house, and I keep saying, "Have your mom call me and we'll set it up." Sometimes she would cry. It was all getting a bit sad. So a few weeks ago, I finally met the mom and set something up. I think this little girl is a bit lonely.

We got to the house and Jason was here. He said hi to her, and she said, "Is that Ava's dad?" I said yes, it was. She said, "Oh. My dad doesn't live at our house. But I see him at my Nana's." Jason and I looked at each other and I said, "Yes, some moms and dads don't live in the same house. I bet your dad loves when he gets to see you!"

Later, the girls were playing in Ava's room with the door closed. I am a bit of what Becky calls a "helicopter parent"--I can tend to hover a bit, especially when I don't know the other child well. So I went to check on them. I knocked on the door, and then opened it and said, "Hi! How's it going, girls?" They were playing dress-up. Ava's little friend came to the door and said, "Um, can you not annoy us? We're playing right now." I am totally serious! I laughed and said, "Sweetie, I'm the mom. That means I get to open the door anytime I want to." "Oh," she said, "Okay."

It's been a rainy few days here in Sydney. This afternoon I had the brilliant idea that the kids and I would make some pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies and decorate them. Because as I've talked about before, I am a culinary genius.

Well, I am not prepared to comment on the outcome. But it did not go well. I think it had something to do with the kind of flour I used. Some might say the dough was too sticky. Mistakes were made. Fingers were pointed. And as we watched the shapeless, blobby, ginorma-cookie baking in the oven, Nate looked at me and said, "This is a bad day!"

Can we bake it? Um, no. Apparently we can't.

You know in The Wrath of Khan, when Captain Kirk screams, "KHAAAAANNNN!", shaking his fist and all? (Instead of going clubbing in my younger years, I watched Star Trek. I am awesome, you see.)

That was me tonight, "COOOOKIEEE!" I will not be beaten. Except maybe I will be. A little bit.