Yesterday, Molly turned 4. My baby girl turned 4 years old.
Somehow, somewhere, someone started telling Molly that though she wasn't big enough for what she wanted to do, she could do it when she was older. Namely, once she turned 4. (I'm not naming names, but I'm pretty sure the guy who sleeps in my bed is on the top of the suspect list.) This reasoning was given for any number of things: climbing a tree, having a sleepover, doing the monkey bars. I have no idea why such a close age was chosen, especially because the girl has the memory of an elephant. Seriously, she remembers trips that we took two years ago, she remembers who lives in what neighborhoods we drive into, she remembers tiny parts of toys that were left here six months ago by friends. Of course she's going to remember she is allowed to do certain things when she turns 4.
Because the 4th birthday was such a big deal, it was a huge decision on what kind of birthday party to have. I've talked before about the guilt I feel from the anti-princess faction. I know Molly would love a princess birthday party. She would love a make-over party. She would love any kind of girly party we could come up with. But, I just felt so guilty. So, when we went to a Sesame Street show in January, and Elmo and his friends were Superheros, an idea dawned on me. Molly started running around the house pretending to be a superhero; wanting problems to fix and capes to wear. That's it! We could have a superhero/supergirl party. She could still dress up (with a cape), but I could feel less guilty about the princess factor. Of course, I did do everything in pink, so that might have undercut the whole point, but, well, I never claimed to be perfect.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Tornado sheltering
Whenever I'm traveling and people ask where I'm from, I say Kansas City. Notice the City on the end of that. First, no one would ever know where Olathe, Kansas, was, so I can't say that. And, if, instead, I say simply Kansas, I will inevitably hear any of a number of The Wizard of Oz references. "Where are your ruby slippers, Dorothy?" "Well, you're not in Kansas, anymore!" "Did you follow the yellow brick road to get here?" It goes on and on and on and on and on. It's annoying, quite frankly. Especially when each person thinks that they are the first person to have thought up said reference. Even when we were traveling in Australia, people we met from everywhere in Europe and Australia all knew The Wizard of Oz references. Because, unfortunately, all over the world, Kansas appears to be most known for a 1939 movie about a pigtailed farm girl and tornadoes.
The interesting thing is that while Kansas is known for tornadoes, it has always seemed to me that other states get more tornadoes and more damage. While tornado warnings and watches are fairly common here, actual tornadoes never really get that close. Well, unless you count Greensburg, Kansas, which was completely flattened by a EF5 tornado in 2007. Oh, and now we've got Joplin, Missouri. While not in Kansas, it is right on the border, and only about three hours away from here. Scary stuff. At least for me. Cory often laughs at how serious I take some of the warnings. A lot of my friends who have grown up here don't treat warnings with all that much significance. They are fine staying at the bar or restaurant while the sirens are wailing. I'm not. I'd prefer to be in a basement. Perhaps it is because, while I have lived in Kansas for the majority of my life, I spent many of my formative years tracking hurricanes in North Carolina. An entirely different natural disaster to be wary of, but one you could track for days in advance. None of this 20 minutes notice crap.
I have to be careful now that Molly is getting older. I often forget how much she picks up on. The other morning, while watching my standard Today show, Molly caught sight of the devastation of the Joplin tornado. I didn't even know she was paying attention. She asked me what happened, and I had to explain that it was a tornado. I don't think she even understands the concept. She just thinks that a tornado is a big mess, because that's all she saw on the TV. "We don't have tornadoes at our house, Mommy, cause our street's not a mess like that." She sees the result, not the actual storm. And, I was fine leaving it like that. I didn't think she needed to be scared about thunderstorms. Next thing you know, she'd be terrified any time there was thunder and we'd end up with another person in our bed with every thunderstorm. So, I didn't explain further.
Fast-forward two days. She's at dance class and the tornado sirens start blaring. We were hearing reports of tornado touching down mere miles from where we were. We stayed in the basement of the dance studio waiting for it to pass. She heard me on the phone to Cory talking about how he was in the stairwell at work. Now, she started understanding it a bit more. She came and sat in my lap, scared. Everything turned out ok, and we were able to drive home safely. I haven't discussed it much further with her. If she asks about it, I'll have to figure out what to say, I guess. I have never mentioned anything about people dying in tornadoes. Then again, I've never even broached the subject of death with her, so I guess that's a whole other beast to tackle. Yeesh. So, I guess we'll see if she starts sneaking into our bedroom at night the next time there is a thunderstorm. I do know one thing I won't be doing. I won't make her watch The Wizard of Oz. Those flying monkeys are creepy and the witch on the bicycle is a little terrifying. If those don't make you scared of tornadoes, I don't know what will.
Which is scarier?
Or this?
The interesting thing is that while Kansas is known for tornadoes, it has always seemed to me that other states get more tornadoes and more damage. While tornado warnings and watches are fairly common here, actual tornadoes never really get that close. Well, unless you count Greensburg, Kansas, which was completely flattened by a EF5 tornado in 2007. Oh, and now we've got Joplin, Missouri. While not in Kansas, it is right on the border, and only about three hours away from here. Scary stuff. At least for me. Cory often laughs at how serious I take some of the warnings. A lot of my friends who have grown up here don't treat warnings with all that much significance. They are fine staying at the bar or restaurant while the sirens are wailing. I'm not. I'd prefer to be in a basement. Perhaps it is because, while I have lived in Kansas for the majority of my life, I spent many of my formative years tracking hurricanes in North Carolina. An entirely different natural disaster to be wary of, but one you could track for days in advance. None of this 20 minutes notice crap.
I have to be careful now that Molly is getting older. I often forget how much she picks up on. The other morning, while watching my standard Today show, Molly caught sight of the devastation of the Joplin tornado. I didn't even know she was paying attention. She asked me what happened, and I had to explain that it was a tornado. I don't think she even understands the concept. She just thinks that a tornado is a big mess, because that's all she saw on the TV. "We don't have tornadoes at our house, Mommy, cause our street's not a mess like that." She sees the result, not the actual storm. And, I was fine leaving it like that. I didn't think she needed to be scared about thunderstorms. Next thing you know, she'd be terrified any time there was thunder and we'd end up with another person in our bed with every thunderstorm. So, I didn't explain further.
Fast-forward two days. She's at dance class and the tornado sirens start blaring. We were hearing reports of tornado touching down mere miles from where we were. We stayed in the basement of the dance studio waiting for it to pass. She heard me on the phone to Cory talking about how he was in the stairwell at work. Now, she started understanding it a bit more. She came and sat in my lap, scared. Everything turned out ok, and we were able to drive home safely. I haven't discussed it much further with her. If she asks about it, I'll have to figure out what to say, I guess. I have never mentioned anything about people dying in tornadoes. Then again, I've never even broached the subject of death with her, so I guess that's a whole other beast to tackle. Yeesh. So, I guess we'll see if she starts sneaking into our bedroom at night the next time there is a thunderstorm. I do know one thing I won't be doing. I won't make her watch The Wizard of Oz. Those flying monkeys are creepy and the witch on the bicycle is a little terrifying. If those don't make you scared of tornadoes, I don't know what will.
Which is scarier?
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| The Witch and Flying Monkey. |
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| Downtown KC on Wednesday. Photo credit. |
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Pretty Preschool Princess
We have reached the end. The end of Molly's first year of preschool. And yet, I still cannot erase the indelible mental snapshot from the beginning of the school year. It is a picture of me, crying, sitting in my car after dropping Molly off for the first time. I just could not believe that my baby was old enough to be going to school. She looked so adorable in her big ol' backpack. And, she jumped right out of the car and walked away from me with nary a wave.
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| First day of Preschool. How cute is she? |
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