Ever Just Had THAT Kind of Day?

In case you have, we just wanted to be in solidarity.

Catching Up Will Have to Wait

Seriously, if I try to make sure I go in order and tell you all about the wonderful trip we had to the United States and show you those pictures with meaningful stories before I begin to show you some of the new stuff going on around here then...well, nothing will ever go up on this blog. I will want it to. I will think of the things I should say as I tear around picking stuff up after Peanut has taken it out again for the 143rd time, but when it comes time to sit and do it I will opt to eat or sleep or something like that.

So, to get something to her adoring fans and push the demon of orderliness behind me, I present the following:

It is never to early to start reviewing your flash cards.

Think it might be time for those cabinet locks?

  

If I give this back to you, can I please stay in here?

I Pity the Fool

We couldn't get her to keep the gold chain on...

And she does not quite have the tan...

 

But we would pick her any day for our A-Team.

¡Feliz Día Papá!

In honor of Father's Day (better late than never, right?), or Día del Padre aquí en Colombia, Peanut proffers praise photographically (why, oh why does that "p" have to sound like an "f"?)...

Pictures of Papi and Peanut: 

Presenting a panorama of precious parenting practically pouring with passion and pizazz. Please pause to partake of the picture parade para a particularly precious person, pastor and parent we call Papi.
 

¡Feliz Día Papá! from Richard Williams on Vimeo.

Cumpleaños Craziness

Last week Peanut was invited to her first ever Colombian birthday party.

Okay...technically that is not true. She was invited to Papi's birthday party first, which he shared with two Colombians who were born on the same day, but since she went to bed before anyone really showed up I am not sure that counts. Plus, his party did not have a jump house...nor live Disney characters...nor boy/girl cupcakes with individual flags in each one for each guest...nor a snack bar with redeemable "coupons"...nor, hold on a minute, I am getting faint again.

You see, last week was a first birthday party - as in a party for a little girl turning one year old. I remain very grateful for having been invited, but the whole experience just about gave me hives. How to explain...

Evidently 1 year birthdays are a big thing here. Quinceñeras (for those turning 15) are bigger still, but, I am told, any other year you can just share some cake with family but the first year and the 15th you have to do more. I am not clear about whether this cause for celebration stems from the fact that making it to one year most likely means you are really going to stick around, or if it has no such serious underpinnings. What I do know is that I am clearly in over my head and may have to hide about four months from now.

The party began at 4:30pm and there were easily 60 people there of all ages. The theme was Mickey and Minnie mouse, with all the girls getting Minnie invitations and all the boys Mickey ones. There were Minnie ears (as modeled by Peanut above) and Mickey ears. There were Minnie party favors, and Micky ones; blue and pink cupcakes; even the ribbon on the aforementioned snack bar items was gender coded.  There must have been 100 balloons in varying arrangements of flowers and festive flair - all pink and white, it was a girl's birthday after all.

We knew we were at the right house because when we drove by there were a ton of people in chairs in the street (see over my shoulder), safe from passing traffic because they were shielded by a lane-wide blow up jumpy castle (sadly not available in pink). Music was at def-con 5, and it was turned down only to do party games with kids that included turns for girls and boys (separately) to dance for the crowd for prizes. If you are picturing silly jumping little beans, you have not been to a child's birthday party recently enough...at least not around here. Eight-year-olds were moving their hips and shaking their butts to songs that I do not want played at my own party. It was nothing that hasn't been put up on YouTube or discussed ad nauseum about the "All the Single Ladies" dance recital number, but it felt different to face it with my daughter in my arms. One day that sweet face is going to look around and think that jumping and moving any which way is not okay anymore because the girls beside her are all running their hands down their sides and pouting their lips, and so help me I will cry that day.

Besides the fact that all this makes me throw up in my mouth a little, I simply do not have the energy to do all that I saw. Nor is it the way I want to spend the money we have, especially on a day she is not even going to remember. The party was a great success. I remain grateful for being included. I am just not sure what to do come September.