Who Hurt the Grass?

In his natural environment, Flik is a big fan of cutting the grass. He loves Daddy’s John Deere tractor: using it, working on it (as in oil changes or other fixes), or just sitting on it while it’s parked in the garage. Any attempts by Daddy to cut the grass without Flik’s involvement usually results in a minor meltdown. When he was two and three, nearly every stick-shaped object that entered our house was magically transformed into a weed-whacker or a leaf blower. (I am certain that this enthusiasm for lawn maintenance will evaporate right about the time that Flik is able to operate the lawn mower without parental involvement.)

In Orlando however, Flik saw things a little differently. In Chicago, we have different types of grasses than they do in the south. Southern grasses have wider blades than our northern bluegrasses and fescues. So while walking in the grass one day on our Orlando vacation, Flik paused to investigate the grass. He saw that the ends of the grass were stringy and uneven. He looked up at me with concern.

Flik: Who hurt the grass? 

Mommy: What do you mean? 

Flik: Look at it! It’s all… (Imagine crazy arm and body gestures here to indicate that the grass has been mangled since Flik doesn’t know the word “mangled.”) 

Mommy: No one hurt the grass, Sweetie. That’s just from the lawnmower. 

Flik: (aghast) I think they should not make lawnmowers or weed-whackers any more so no one can hurt the grass!

Well now. That was unexpected.

Don't Worry, Disney Won't Sink Our Boat

On our trip to Disney World this year, Flik was quite excited to try the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. We rode it once last year, but it was a little scary for him, particularly the part where the boat cruises into total darkness and then drops. This year, he told us repeatedly prior to the ride that last year he was only three-and-a-half and this year he is four-and-a-half, so he wouldn’t be scared. Well, he was right. He did hold me a little tighter when we entered the pitch-black, can’t-see-a-thing portion of the ride, but he seemed to recover quickly. This year he expressed greater concern that we would get hit by a cannonball as the boat drifted through a pirate battle. “What if one of the cannonballs hits us?” I assured him that Disney World was not in the habit of making rides where the boats sank. All in all, the ride was a hit. As soon as we got off, we got the very expected, “Let’s go again!”

On our second time through the line, which wasn't really a line and more a long walk through an empty building with zigzagging barriers that corral the masses during busy season, we paused a couple times to check out some of the props that line the queuing area. One of Flik’s favorite props was this:

This, as Flik will tell you, is a cannonball machine. You know, the machine that launches the cannon balls. (We’ve tried to explain that it’s called, simply, a cannon, but he’s not having any of it.)

As we left the cannonball machine and continued toward the ride, Flik asked me, “Mommy, why do the pirates have to fight? Why can’t the just talk about why they’re upset?” When I looked down at him and smiled, he added, “Why can’t they just say, ‘Pirates, no more fighting!’” How can you even answer such a sweet question?

I answered him with a hug. That was sufficient because then it was time to get on the ride again.

Disney World 2011: Photo Recap

We returned home from Orlando today. Four days in Disney is fun, but exhausting. Throw in a baby with a 102 fever on day three and things become even more unscripted than usual. But everybody had a wonderful time, even the poor baby, who was never out of sorts, even at his hottest. Must have been all that magic in the air.

I have stories and stories to share, some long, most very brief, and all coming in the weeks to come. In the meantime, here are some of the photos from our trip.

Z is One

Today is Z's first birthday. I can't even believe it. His party isn't for almost a month because we leave for Disney World tomorrow and don't want to have it right after we get back. So today was just an ordinary day. Ordinary, except that my baby is one. One!

To mark the occasion, I did pull out my camera and grab a few shots for this official milestone.

Happy birthday, baby Z! We love you so very much!

First Baseball Game

We took Flik to his first Major League baseball game last week. When he found out we were going (and bringing him along), he was beyond excited. (Mostly at the idea that the game starts at 7, which is his typical bedtime.) We left Z at home with our nanny and headed out. The excitement never waned. When the night was over and we were headed home, we asked him what his favorite part was. As expected, his answer was: "My favorite part was every part!" This included: arriving at the park, finding our seats, hot dogs, PEANUTS, throwing shells on the ground, throwing baseballs, wandering the park, fireworks, sitting on Daddy's shoulders, and (oh yeah) baseball. We left the game a little early, but still well past his bedtime. When we planted him in his bed, he was wiped. My favorite part: every part!