Comic-Con

Josh got a gig doing some work at Comic-Con last weekend, so Dash & I hitched onto his wagon for some good, clean fun. Also: zombies.

What's up, fancy-ass hotel?


Right?

Since Josh was "working" at Comic-Con, Dash & I hit up the The New Children’s Museum.

Trojan Horse.


Trojan (No! Bruin!)


It is just the perfect combination of arty-enough for my pretentious ass to be satisfied,


but still fun-enough for the kid to be stoked.


Why yes, I did construct that balloon, ahem, sword.


They see me climbin.' They hatin.'

We went out to dinner on our last night in San Diego.

What? Zombies gotta eat, too.


Inspired.


Punx not dead! (Despite what the whole zombie thing might imply).

The World According to Dash

Carbonated beverages = spicy

Pins & needles (from when your foot falls asleep) = sparkly

Dash passes you in a bike race = "you wanna piece of THIS?!"

You screw with his head = you're giving him a real mess

His idea of giving you a real mess = telling you that he's not gonna do the exact thing he's planning on doing to you, then asking you to close your eyes (ex: "I'm not gonna put this in your mouth, Mommy. Now, close your eyes & open your mouth.")

The other night Dash called me into his room to tell me he was scared. Apparently he had made a wish on a penny that he would turn into an apple. He decided later that maybe he hadn't thought that one all the way through, and was terrified that he was just moments away from an actual transformation. I told him he was safe because by telling me his wish he had rendered it null and void.

Dash's favorite human is a baby named Mugsy. OK, he's not named Mugsy. But we call him Mugsy. It's his parents' fault that we call him that. But I digress. Every time we tell Dash that he's going to see Mugsy he gets terribly excited and says, "Mama, I can't wait to teach Mugsy how to fight with light sabers."

Field Trip

The fellas took an unplanned trip to the Natural History Museum on Monday. Luck-outs.

39

Dear 39,

Well, we're off to a pretty amazing start. Don't fuck it up.

Love,
Liz

(Paradise Cove in Malibu)

Eight Years

Eight years ago today.

Eight years later. A little older. A little puffier. A lot more tired. Exponentially happier. Thanks for a better life than I ever could have imagined for myself, honey. I love you more than crafts.

July 5th

Woke up late, cleaned up the house (the number of spent sparklers & piles of confetti boggled the mind, honestly), bleached the shit out of the Deathwish Couch and ate hot dogs and Otter Pops for breakfast.

Then, a long, long family bike ride (I fell over once, but didn't actually fall off the bike so I'm calling it a win) followed by home made bottle rockets (instructions courtesy of Handy Dad).

Some days it just feels like Dandelion Wine up in here.

America! Fuck Yeah!

I know you'll never believe this, but we threw a party for the 4th of July! I know!

Our first order of business was to get some bunting done. I cut up some burlap I had taking up space in my fabric basket & asked the fellas to stamp it with some homemade stars (cut up kitchen sponges--resourceful, yo).


Then we got all kooky with the red paper lanterns.


See?


I don't even know what to say about these. Once I had the vision of the kids wearing them, I was physically unable to resist making them. I made these from little wooden discs from the craft store, some funny sayings on a red & white background I made in Word (high-tech!) and printed onto typing paper, and a grosgrain ribbon glued onto the back.


I also just glued on the pinbacks, and then covered the ugly splotch of glue with a piece of adhesive-backed felt. Because 4-year-olds are totes hung up on those kinds of details.


I enjoy my own sense of humor.


Probably more than is justified.


Yup. Sparkly wands (Wooden stars glued onto dowels, decorated with foam stickers & red, white & blue ribbons. Also, bells. I should just stop talking now.)


Except I can't. Because: TUTUS! COME ON! Each little girl got one to wear at the party & take home.


Let's take a minute to stop thinking about how nuts I am and just admire this child. Isn't he pretty? Yes, yes he is.


Here is Captain America, striking a reassuring pose.


Here he is with Undersecretary America. Don't you just feel safer knowing they're out there, protecting our great nation?


Dance break.


Here's the table before all the food came & ruined my table scape. See that jar with the peaches floating in it? That is white peach sangria in there. White peach sangria tastes like heaven but that shit will Fuck. You. Up. Here's how to make it:

4 bottles white wine
1/2 bottle vodka
1 container concentrated lemonade
1/2 c. sugar
6 peaches, pitted & sliced.

Combine everything, let sit in the fridge overnight, drink slowly and with lots of food. Seriously. Don't leave out the part about the food or they'll have to scrape you off the floor.


Slip 'n Slide!


Children! Eating Otter Pops! On the Deathwish Couch! The Sangria helped me deal!


We ended the night plopped down in the driveway, watching fireworks that were happening somewhere far away but close enough to be exciting for the littles.


It was a beautiful way to spend the 4th of July. Surrounded by old friends and new, kids and grandparents. Burgers and dogs. Counting our blessings until we ran out of fingers & toes.


God Bless America, friends. And you & yours, too.