We continue in our commitment to the Go Big Or Go Home Holiday 2010 Extravaganza.
We made gingerbread houses.
I think Jafta’s technique here exemplifies the Go Big Or Go Home philosophy. Sure, you could take dainty bites of a smaller piece in your hand. But why not just take a bite out of the roof? Really, WHY NOT?
After gorging herself on sugar for about an hour, Karis decided to climb onto the table and dance around like a drunk girl at a Phish concert. Rock on, Karis.
We’ve visited Disney. On multiple occasions. Once, by myself with all four kids. A Christmas miracle.
I took India to see The Nutcracker. She loved it, despite the nonsensical plot that makes Mullholland Drive seem easy to understand. I think someone was having a bad acid trip when they wrote that play. And still, it is performed by thousands of dance companies the world over each Christmas. We missed buying tickets to the more reputable ballet schools, and ended up seeing it at a local community college. I wish I could have filmed some of the men cast in the production. Let me just say, they were not giving the Double Dream Hands guy any competition. Also, there was a family in the audience who didn’t realize that it is completely tacky to scream and hoot for your own child by name every time they come on stage. So I spent the better part of the performance shooting them dirty looks and eye rolls. Just my special way of sharing Christmas cheer.
India has refused to go anywhere without a tutu and a tiara since the performance. She was very impressed with the Sugar Plum Fairy, whom she calls a Ballerina Princess. She has Mark spin her around like the couple doing the Pas De Deux. I really think Mark could audition and get a part in the company we saw. Which, if you’ve seen Mark dance . . . is kind of scary.
Her upper body has good form, but she could use some work on her turn-out.
Karis is impressed with anything her sister is impressed with, so she has also taken to wearing a tutu and calling herself a “mina pincessesses” (ballerina princesses. plural twice).
Always, always with the picture face
Last night, we went to the quintessential Orange County Christmas destination: the Peanuts Christmas House. This house turns into a Charlie Brown version of It’s A Small World. We’ve been going here for years, but the kicker this year is that the boy who lives in this house is in Jafta’s class. Jafta feels like he has a celebrity in his class, and last night we got to go inside the Peanuts house. It was very exciting.
On the way home, India innocently asked, “Mommy, why is it called the Penis Christmas House?” Which, of course, the boys thought was the most hilarious thing they have ever heard. Despite my stern warnings against it, they spent the rest of the evening talking about the Penis House and laughing hysterical. I tried to shut it down, but Mark assured me that it was no use.
Hope you are all enjoying the season. We are having a blast. Five days and counting until our first flight with the kids . . . did I mention Mark has steel rods in both of his legs so I get to do the TSA thing all by myself with four kids? I CAN’T WAIT!