Melancholy

My Hair

Are you laughing at my hair?

I said, are you laughing at my hair?

Let me tell you something....

I'd laugh at it to!

But This was the First Draft....

Like a sculptor who looks at a block of marble only to chisel away the excess so what lies inside can emerge, so I gaze upon my medium: Red Velvet and I see a helicopter lying inside...

 

I cut and assemble and am pleased with the results....

Homemade buttercream frosting.

(Lesson learned: No matter how much red food coloring you add to white frosting, it will still look pink).

Though I recognize its flaws and imperfections, I'm generally pleased with the shape and have only to decorate and assemble the rotor blades. 

I prepare my tools (Pocky Sticks) only to turn around and find out this has happened:

At 1am, and a few attempts at recovery, I recognize a crashed helicopter when I see one. I clean up the mess and call it a night, giving thanks I had the foresight to buy a second box and a few cans of ready-made frosting.

So, I'm learning that I am NOT a professional, semi-professional or even good decorator.  I also realize I have neither the patience nor attention to detail necessary to ever become good at this sort of thing.

But, I strangley enjoy this process more than a professionally-made, more aesthetically pleasing cake.  I feel like it's one of those times when "it's the thought that counts" rather than the beauty of the finished product.  

I also don't mind so much when this kind of cake that took hours to fashion, goes on display for 1 minute during the birthday song only to be cut to pieces the next minute. 

And the more homely, less professional type lets me more at ease to do this:

A fun afternoon with Batman getting help decorating his cake while he goes on and on, "I REALLY like this cake, Mommy!"  

"Oh, Mommy! This is such a nice helicopter cake!"

"Congratulations on your cake, Mommy!"

That was definitely worth the effort!

"Robin, I love you!"

Says Michael spontaneously to Matthew before doing this:

Michael's Cake

After much deliberation, Michael requested a helicopter cake (runners-up included a Batman cake, a Number 5 cake --even though he is 4--a baseball cake).

I can't say that it was particularly great, but it IS in the shape of a helicopter.

And Michael really, really liked it.

And that's all that counts!

Mess.

So today was a pretty easy day at home. Michael had the car so we didn't really have much pressure to go anywhere and we have some friends coming to dinner tomorrow so I knew I wanted to putter around the house and get a little cleaning done.

After breakfast, the boys snuck into their room, quietly....a little too quietly. I had noticed before breakfast there was a handful of wayward toys on the ground which I mistakenly let slide by before I had them eat.

Apparently, seeing the opportunity to complete a project they had already begun (namely playing the game they call "Mess." Yes, it is just as sophisticated as it sounds).

I knew they were up to no good, and I knew it would involve a lot clean-up for me to do, but I was enjoying some nice quiet time playing with Molly and they were quite content.  So, after Molly went down for a nap, I came back to the front room, grabbed a few sips of tea and went to tackle the monumental task I knew awaited me in the boys room.

What I didn't expect was opening the door and seeing this:

I'm not sure how long they were each sitting on their respective thrones, but they got a big kick of being there.

(The crib gate Matthew was sitting on was from Michael's crib when we disassembled the crib a year ago into a toddler bed).

I think it must really go along with the stage of toys for kids these ages that there are so many little pieces. Alphabet. Numbers. Blocks. Jars of plastic bugs. This mess was broad and deep.

They also managed to get into Molly's box of baby toys (their old baby toys).  I wouldn't have thought baby toys would still have been that interesting to them, but anything to be the best at the game called Mess.

So after an hour of cleaning (and badgering them to help me), we finally pulled it together. I weeded out the various "miscellaneous" boxes, got rid of a few things, put groups of toys back together.

In the end, it turned out better than when the day had started.

And that, folks, is how you really win this game.

Hold My Hand

The boys (particularly Matthew) love to hold Molly's hand when we drive in the car. Since I can't take a picture while driving, I jumped at the opportunity when they grabbed her hands in the parking lot.

It's not entirely clear how Molly feels about it, but at least she knows she is loved.