Ella's birthday

It isn't actually until November but we're already so! super! excited! because we got tickets to the Yo Gabba Gabba! live show!

Wooo!

It's happening four days after Ella's turns three. At such an early age, the girls will go to the magical arena that holds many of my favorite memories. Like Harlem Globe Trotters games. Or the Ice Capades. And later, much later, INXS and Depeche Mode concerts where I'd spend waaaay too much money on programs and posters.
I'm glad to be taking the girls to their first Sports Arena experience, if only so that when they one day watch "Almost Famous," they can say "that's the Sports Arena! In this movie! I've been there! My home town is famous! And I'm famous, too!" Or maybe that's just me.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to Yo Gabba Gabba the same way I'd look forward to an actual, grownup concert with rum drinks and too much feedback.

Just watch one of my favorite clips and you'll see why:

DON'T EAT ME, I'M DIRTY!

To summarize:
1. Good lessons! Especially for clean freaks.
2. Bright colors. And lots of orange.
3. Complex indie-esque song structures
4. Talking crackers.

Sunday night dinner

Remember that cooking series I'm doing for the newspaper? Another installment is set to run in June and I have not been doing any fancy kitchen stuff lately.

Honestly, I haven't been doing much of anything. No cooking. No cleaning. No exercise. No nothing. And after a few months of this malaise, I think I'm finally over it.

So tonight, in honor of my new attitude, and to celebrate the amazingly clean car I now have, I made a lovely dinner.


Mini cheeseburgers and strawberry-feta salad. Please note we are using the fancy wedding china. And, yes, some of the fancy wedding china has polka dots.


And a strawberry sorbet pie. Sorry for the sideways tilt.

My new favorite picture

She's not the easiest two-year-old in the world. Like if she's putting on her dress (which can only be short-sleeved and twirly) and, say, her arm goes through the neck hole rather than the arm hole, and you try to help her out of the predicament, she will collapse on the floor and cry because of the implication that she can't do it herself. And don't expect her to hold your hand crossing the street, even if it's really busy. She won't wear diapers anymore, either, instead we have to invest in the prettier princess "training pants."

But when she wants to smile, get ready, because she gives it everything she's got.



(Thanks to Mops for the photo, which was taken on her wedding day.)

The psychology of a zoo trip

All these road trips up and down California have made quite an impact on Marina.



And now that Ella's given up her pacifier, she's taken an interest in all things nature. Which mostly means she refuses to wear shoes, pants or diapers.