family fiesta day

kevin recently sent me a very scientific article about how 32 is the age that women turn into their mothers. from what i can tell, the isolated test factors appear to be grocery stockpiling and nagging, so i'm not quite sure what he's trying to tell me about our supply of canned tuna or the fact that the jumparoo isn't going to just assemble itself.

this past week was evidently the "nationally celebrated week of the young child" - who knew? - and my first reaction was "isn't every week the week of the young child?" this eerily echoes what my mom used to say every mother's day that me and my sister brattily whined, "when is kiiiids' day?" "every day is kids' day," my mother would reply to eye rolls while driving us to "her" celebratory dinner at (fine dining establishment) the corvette diner, where she was rewarded for another year of boundless self-sacrifice with a spilled milkshake in her lap.

violet's daycare heartily embraced this mysterious week of the young child with all kinds of activities that culminated in family fiesta day on friday - a party complete with panda express takeout for all parents and babies who enjoy kung pao chicken. all were invited to don cultural wear, which meant changing from work trousers into jeans for me, and a black t-shirt for kevin, along with offers to rub jack daniels on the ailing gums of any teething tots. kevin generously dressed violet in a mommy-centric outfit, but daddy and daughter stole the cuteness show in my eyes.





violet's daycare is awesome. every week they have a music teacher who comes to do "sign and sing." there is a gardener on staff who makes sure that all the vegetation is non-toxic - for example, there are several planters of cilantro and "edible dirt." but they really stepped things up this week on the activities front. the university marching band came, and apparently (future band nerd?) violet was riveted. the painting started off tame - a handprint here, a footprint there, and then a few more footprints for good measure.





but by thursday my little (future sorority?) girl was determined to start young with her training for wet t-shirt contests and mud-wrestling championships.





in my own training for parent of the year, i'd forgotten her bottles that day, and when i got back from commute-from-hell number two of the morning, i was immediately cheered up by the chaos. i managed to feed violet without getting any paint on my white shirt AND get to the office less than two hours late. employee of the year, anyone?