Xela's 4 Laws of Physics (apologies to Newton)

I. A marzipan pumpkin cannot be created or destroyed, it can only change forms.



II. an isolated pumpkin's enjoyment increases when shared





III. What goes up...


...must come down


IV. Space-time continuum is constant... except when Tata discovers the iPhone doodle-app

ho hum...

didja forget about ME?

Corollary Q: the bond between a Xela and her Tata is indestructible!

uh-oh

all better!

Thanks, Tata, for helping me advance scientific knowledge! Now, if we could just bottle the magic of Indian summer afternoons....
xoxox
xela

hole lotta xela

Shhhh, I'm hiding out from my fever

don't I look like the picture of SICK?

nope!

(Like the outfit? I got dressed all by myself!)

xoxox
your favorite feverish fashionista,
xela

I'm sick

boo hoo

But it's not keeping me down. We're still biking:


And smiling:



And creating:


And smiling:
And playing musical chairs with Tita:


And smiling:

So, I'm febrile - but I've always been a hottie! I can't go to school - but Mommy and I are having fun at home. Add tasty grape Tylenol and Motrin every few hours - life is good. Before long, I'll be my cool self again.

with love & germy kisses,
xela

OKtoberfest is OK

It's that time of year again, time for sandwiches stuffed with sizzling sausage and onions, washed down with a capacious mug of brew... oh wait, I don't eat that stuff. But Oktoberfest in the Square is more than meat and beer. For the toddler set, the highlight is an ever-smiling, royal blue celebrity cult-engine known as Thomas. Yes, celebrating a festival of German culture with a little train ride... what could be more apt?

Herr Thomas

I think I'm having fun

the carny race track was less fraught with symbolism
(but probably rigged)

oh dear! life is so complicated.

two days, two posts...
we're back on track - err, so to speak.
(just don't talk to me about the Red Sox...)

xela

Saturday in Xelaland

We've been under self-imposed quarantine for a week while some virus kicked Mama's butt. Today, we emerged.

It looked stormy in the morning, so we checked out a free kids' concert based on the classic children's book, Ferdinand the Bull. It was my first "real" concert - we weren't sure how I'd like classical music. Turns out, you can dance and clap to most anything - who knew? And when the music paused and the room got real quiet, and someone shouted at the top of their lungs, "IS IT DONE?!" Yeah, that was me.

Afterwards, we went on stage and "met" the instruments. If you're keeping score at home: bassoon - taller than Xela; alto clarinet - taller than Xela; Xela - taller than oboe!

No good pictures, it was early and Mama needed coffee:

We're outta here...

Driving back, we stumbled on a "Touch a Truck" petting zoo.

Did you know the Postal Service uses child labor to clean its trucks?

Kidding!
Peligro! Danger! low-fly zone!

when I grow up, I'm gonna drive a garbage truck,
Mama will be so proud!

After lunch and nap, one more adventure: We heard rumors of a nearby farm, tucked inside a nearby subdivision of ranch homes, and went to investigate... sure enough, it's a real working farm just 10 minutes away, whittled down from a once-much-larger parcel but still plenty big for us city folk. We met chickens, ate apples, tiptoed through cut flower gardens, and picked pumpkins from the patch.

doin' the punkin dance

see the house right across the field? worlds collide...

by the way, here's my new 'I'm so scared!' look

and here's my 'I resemble Xela but I'm really a zombie-doll' look

Finally, this little monkey was ready for bed... but not before some books!

this is the book I got yesterday at the doctor's office...

it's called Busy Toes - really, that's the title.

LOL!

May all your toes be busy, happy and not too stinky!
xoxox
xela

...ʞǝǝʍ sıɥʇ ʇnoqɐ ƃuıɥʇǝɯos

You know those days? the babysitter is sick, and the car is in the shop, and the rental car ordered online has the wrong (too small) car seat, so you're scrambling to daycare drop-off and pick-up by bike -- and then (of course) you get a flat. And then, you get sick. And the car still isn't fixed. Welcome to our week. Maybe it's karmic retribution. Maybe it's a cosmic F.U. from the universe. Or maybe, it's simply a reminder that all efforts at control are futile.

Control? What control? Might as well dance.