J had her "moving up" ceremony--moving up from pre-school to pre-K. She had no idea what it was about, other than that her class sang a couple of songs and then--more importantly--there were cupcakes.
I have to admit that, besides a twinge of "how quickly time is passing," I didn't get very emotional. Maybe because it wasn't very important. Maybe because J didn't really know what it meant. Or maybe because I am okay with her growing up. The alternative is beyond contemplation.
The following weekend...more plays and parades! Or, technically, one of each. "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" was excellent, prompting several belly laughs from J. Silly, physical and endearing, with an awesome set--I never even dozed off, and that's big for me.
After dinner with friends (thanks, Albert!), we headed over to the Starlight Parade. And, you know what? It was all right but sort of disappointing. I'd only been once, more years ago than I care to think. I remember it as being cheeky and a bit risque. Or maybe that was the Pride Parade. Anyway, this was kind of commercialized. And sorely lacking in llamas. Astoria represented itself quite nicely:
J loved the whole sparkly mess. Of course. Almost as much as she loved her first pedicure. Yes, I am that mother. But I had to get mine done in preparation for a work week of open-toed shoes, and, really, what else was she supposed to do? Read People magazine?
The shameful part, the part that always fills me with guilt, is that I always feel vaguely distinctly imperialist in an Asian nail salon. The same way, I guess, people feel when they hire a house cleaner. Not that I would know what that feels like.
And then, a week later, came another parade, the Rose Festival Grand Floral Parade. WITH llamas!
And with not one, but two (by my count) non-white Royal Rosarians. Who says Portland isn't making progress?
C flew in that same day. Since Father's Day was a week away, I took her over to Pioneer Place. We went into Eddie Bauer because G needed new shirts. We decided we would get the ugliest shirt on the clearance rack. Our goal? To see if he would wear what he would have to know was a really ugly shirt solely because C picked it out for him. We ended up settling for the second ugliest, since the really, truly ugliest one didn't come in G's size. I wish I could find a picture, but Eddie Bauer is apparently too embarrassed to put it on the website. I'm not home this week, so I can't just go into the closet and take a snap. Think orange. Think plaid. Think really, really ugly. Muy feo! We even asked a couple saleswomen if they thought it was ugly. They are very well trained, because they both said, with completely straight faces, "No! That's a nice shirt!" Then we told them what we were doing. They laughed and said we had probably made the right choice. Since all their other merchandise was, you know, much prettier.
Good times. We also like to go to Dollar Tree and ask the workers how much various items cost. Or to mix it up, one of us might hold up a tube of toothpaste or a puzzle and say, "I only have a dollar. Do I have enough money?"
Yet.
And yes, G loved (!) the shirt. Because he loves C. Oh, and we also made him angel food cake, which, at J's request, I dyed bright blue. We've been dyeing her milk for a year now. She seems to think adding color changes the taste. That's my special snowflake! The cake was scrumptious (thanks, Cook's Illustrated), but it was definitely BLUE. And that actually adds some credence to J's colored-milk theory. When eating a piece of blue cake--the exact same color as the sponge on the kitchen sink--your mind tricks you into thinking it will taste like something different. Sort of disappointing that it didn't, actually, but I didn't want to eat a sponge. More like when you think you have a glass of Coke and it turns out to be Dr. Pepper. I wish I had taken a picture. C and J frosted it. So it was blue all the way through, with white frosting and LOTS of sprinkles. YUCK YUM!!!
Oh...and I didn't have time for a crash course in tween culture. So I will be the dork stepmother for another long summer. What else is new?
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