One shitty moment in an otherwise lovely day

Today was practically perfect in every way. My kids benefited from some very awesome yard sales (A got a mini Radio Flyer trike, Z got a Disney Princess tee, and they both got new books). They got to listen to stories and dance with Miss Lori's Campus (minus Miss Lori!) at a WTTW Kids event in the Whole Foods parking lot. We hit the library for a restock of books and A took a 2 hour nap while I whipped up and delivered a mac and cheese casserole for a family that just had a new baby.

We hit the pool around 2:30 and scored a lounge chair (that never happens) right next to three of our neighbors (none of whom we'd even planned on meeting). Z had tons of friends to play with, but A didn't seem like her usual water baby self. She kept climbing out of the pool and asking for snacks, and after about an hour or so, she climbed into her stroller, asked me to set it recline, and covered herself up with a towel. Each time I went to check on her, she told me to "Go!" and she'd lay down with her paci, closing her eyes a bit.

I thought maybe all the sun and activity had worn her out, but she was hatching something much more sinister than a nap in her cozy, damp little stroller cave.

Something I discovered when she asked to go back into the pool, 10 minutes before closing. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I came face to face with my first ever poopy swim diaper. A blowout, I might add, that I first smelled and then saw, smeared across the right side of my waist.

Thank G-d I had so many friends nearby. I shouted for them to keep an eye on Z and I raced with A and the diaper bag into the locker room, where, in one fell swoop, I stripped off her swimsuit (thank goodness I'd just bought her a two-piece), removed her diaper and showered us both off. What I'd forgotten in my race to grab the diaper bag was a towel, and I couldn't very well put a diaper on a dripping wet baby, so I walked back out to the pool in my dripping (de-pooped, but not yet sterilized) swimsuit with a slick naked baby on my hip and a backpack slung over my shoulder. I had 3 minutes to get A dressed and Z out of the pool before it closed. Good times.

Things did improve after the shitty ending to outing. We had our friends from across the fence over for BBQ takeout and by dessert time we'd all joined our next-door neighbors in the backyard. The kids (and us grown-ups, for that matter) were having so much fun that I let both of the girls stay up an hour past their bedtimes.

Z sporting her new Belle tee, a jean skirt, rain boots and multiple weapons.

This is why I love my street

A was taking her afternoon nap and Z was playing on the sidewalk, singing to herself and waving at passersby when B, her friend from a few doors down ran over.

The two of them launched into an elaborate game loosely based on the characters of The Wizard of Oz that involved lots of running up and down the block, delivering "brains, hearts and courage" to imaginary Scarecrows, Tinmen and Lions.

It wasn't long before our next door neighbors arrived home and L joined the fun.

Yes, we still arrange playdates and call/text to meet friends at the park and the pool, but as often as not kids in this neighborhood make their own fun with the kids next door. It's been going on since time immortal, but from what I've heard it doesn't happen everywhere anymore. I'm glad it happens here.

With neighbors like mine, who needs friends?

One of my neighbors fell and broke her kneecap and is supposed to stay off it for four to six weeks. A fellow neighbor decided it would be nice if we provided 3 meals a week for the next month and sent out a list of dates via email to around 20-25 families. We were asked to pick a date, write our name next to it and hit reply all.

My email box lit up all day long as families from the block signed up to help. Every date was spoken for by 5pm, disappointing a handful of people who will now no doubt find some other way to be of assistance.

My turn is in two weeks. What should I make?

Wednesday night is pizza night

We learned about Whole Foods' $7.99 Wednesday night pizza special months ago, and we've done a pretty good job of picking up their delicious 16" pies to share with our next-door neighbors ever since. Tonight we're expanding the party to three houses and enjoying our slices in the backyard.
5 adults
6 kids under 9
3 large pizzas
1 salad
1 six-pack of Corona with limes
...and a carton of cookie dough ice cream

Rockin' the block party

My brief history with our neighborhood block party...
In 2003, we'd just moved into our house. We were the new kids on the block: young, childless and known largely as the replacements for the previous owners.

In 2004 I was the really pregnant one.

In 2005 I brought my smiling, crawling baby to the block party. She didn't do much but gurgle and giggle, but she won some admirers.

In 2006 Z was finally able to enjoy the block party. She was too frightened to go in the bounce house, but she ate a hot dog and helped build the world's largest ice cream sundae.

This year we brought two children to the block party. Baby A dozed in the Hug-a-bub (the manufacturer should thank me for selling the wrap's benefits to an army of moms), and Z strutted around like she owned the place.

She did both bounce houses. She participated in the water balloon toss. She swatted at a pinata and snatched up all the candy she could get. She won a bag of goodies by pitching balls into the Bozo Buckets (kid's got an arm!). And she piloted ride-on toys down the middle of the street. She can boast of friends up and down the street, but it was particularly exciting to see that there are three other three year old girls within a block of our house.

For my part, I really enjoyed talking with so many neighbors. There are a lot of people I only see at the block party, but there are a fair number of people I see regularly at the park or on the train. And with plenty of wine, margaritas, appetizers and pizza, I seriously sabotaged my post-baby diet.