Day Seventy-Two

Uh, this kid has a birthday in ... 24 hours.

SIX.

The Tiny Human is turning 6 years old. HOW DID THAT HAPPEN? And HOW AM I GOING TO BE READY IN TIME?

This thing where we build a playhouse instead of hosting a party is working out so far, but there's still a ton to do. Walls and a roof, specifically. Hopefully that works out tomorrow, though I haven't actually figured out the roof thing. I have parts of a roof, but how they come together is ... a mystery.

We'll see what happens.

I also have an insane cake to make. Miss Mila has requested lemon with lemon filling, which I'm pretty stoked about, but she also requested a very particular shape that I'm not entirely sure I can pull off. I say that every year about every cake I make, so feel free to roll your eyes. We all know that I will somehow pull it off and even if I don't, Mila will be happy. Because she's Mila.

And balloons. There are an insane quantity of balloons that still need to be blown up. That part has to happen covertly throughout the day, which should be interesting since Mila spends her every minute following me around.

ANYWAY. There's a lot to do and not much time to do it, so off I go. Wish me luck!

Day Seventy-One

It turns out that the day I took this photo is going to be the last time I see Mila in real clothes.

The very next day, we opened the pool for the summer. Now, our pool is nothing special. It is in desperate need of a deck around it. It's small. But, it's a pool. And Mila loves it. A lot.

Mila legit spent over 10 hours in that pool today. The other three of us took turns making sure she didn't drown herself, which I'm not sure why we're worried about it since she now knows how to swim. Yes, finally, Mila knows how to swim. She's terrible at it, but terrible is better than incapable, so we'll take it. By the end of the summer, she'll be a pro. Of that I'm certain.

When darkness fell over our house, I started telling Mila it was time to get out of the pool. She had only gotten out to go to the bathroom and eat, so seriously it was time. She was two seconds from growing fins.

And yet.

She argued.

And argued.

And argued some more.

She really just wanted to stay in the pool for the rest of time. It doesn't matter that she can go right back in it tomorrow. She wanted to sleep there. She had a whole plan worked out, apparently. There's a giant unicorn floatie in the pool, because of course there is, and Mila decided she was going to sleep on top of it. I just needed to get her a blanket and it would be fine.

Or not.

I mean, I don't really want my kid to drown.

So we fought about it. There was a lot of screaming and crying, and then Mila had opinions about it as well. There was no winning, though. None. No way.

I did the only thing I could do - I sent in reinforcements. I summoned Alexis over to fight the good fight. Alexis also spent most of the day in the pool, so at least she had a swimsuit on and could actually chase the Tiny Human. Me in my jean shorts and t-shirt weren't going on. Period.

So Alexis went in. Mila didn't flee, which was a good sign. And then they had a little conference. There was whispering and nodding and both of them kept glancing over at me. I have no idea what they said, but suddenly Mila took off for the ladder and got out of the pool. She waddled her wet little self straight into the house without a single fuss.

I was astounded WHAT HAD ALEXIS SAID?

Of course, I asked. Alexis' answer? "There are some things that you just can't tell your mother."

I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS. And now I'm scared of Alexis' superpowers.

Day Seventy

Dance is officially over for the 2019/2020 season. Usually that proclamation comes with a whole lot of confetti and even more glee, but meh. It's just not as exciting when I haven't had to drive there for the past two months. It also feels crazy unfinished, which ruins some of the joy. The studio the girls attend is working on some sort of proxy for a recital, which will likely be streamed online instead of having a huge audience, so we'll see what that looks like and if it makes me want to rip my toenails out with a toothpick like normal recitals do. Without that torture, though, the end just doesn't feel real.

Though, Mila seems to be under the impression that it is. I haven't told her that there will likely be some sort of recital later because I need her to not ask me about it every day for the rest of my life. Instead, I let it stand that her last class was The Thing. Everybody wore their recital costumes for their last week of Zoom class, which did NOTHING to make me feel better about the money I wasted on costumes this year (you guys, Alexis' costumes were over $700 - she wore them all once), but I guess it made Mila happy? We'll go with that. Besides wearing their costumes, the kids were all told to grab their parents for the last ten minutes of class for a "performance."

Mila rocked it. Of course.

And she was CRAZY excited that both Alexis and I watched her dance, both of us took video, and basically Mila thought she was a superstar because she did the exact same dance she's been doing for months in the playroom, where she always does it, but in her costume. If I had known that was all it takes to get her excited, I would have let her wear her costume far more often.

See? So proud of herself.

Alexis, though, didn't play along. She didn't bother getting a second wear out of any of her costumes and there was no "performance" at the end of each of her classes. A couple of her classes have HUGE numbers of dancers in them, so I super doubt there will be any sort of attempt at a "recital" performance later. Zoom was probably the only chance? Maybe? I guess we'll see what happens, but I don't see 80+ dancers on a stage together as a thing that might happen this year. I don't even see her hip hop dance happening, and that only has 30 kids in it.

I'm ... a little disappointed. Normal recitals are a bucket of annoying, and yet I'm over here wishing I could see a few of the dances again. 

And that, my friends, is what a global pandemic will do to you. It will make you wish for things that you know are a form of torture.