Our neighbor friend turned two last week, and we were invited to his birthday party this past weekend. They held it at a new local place called Notasium that we had no idea existed. It's only been open for about 4 months and is pretty awesome. It's a music-themed play place that also offers a variety of music classes/lessons. You can take group music classes or individual lessons, like any music school, but they also have a music-themed play space. There's a rock-climbing wall that is designed like the frets on a guitar and plays musical notes when your hands grab the right strings. Once you get to the top, you can slide down a (really fast) slide. There's a bounce house that has drum beats in the floor that play when you bounce, a floor piano you play with your feet (like Tom Hanks in Big), a floor xylophone made out of lights, a stage with play instruments and stage lights for "performances," and quite a few other neat interactive exhibits. Claire and the other kiddos had an absolute blast! I was pretty concerned that she was going to put up quite a ruckus when they had us leave the play area and head to the music/singing area for the next part of the party. One of the staff musicians led the kids in a sing-along and sang a few of the birthday boy's favorites...but really, the thing that got the most attention during music time was Claire's helpful heart.
Climbing up the guitar. She was so brave...until she reached the top.
Seeing as how I couldn't get up there, our neighbor scurried up and helped her slide down.
Claire LOVES balloons. Loves them. We currently have a 3-week old, mostly deflated balloon from a restaurant visit that is still played with. Until about a week ago, we still had one that she had gotten at the BEGINNING OF OCTOBER. She loves them and can't bear to part with them. When we arrived at the party, the birthday boy had a balloon that he was carrying around and frequently releasing, necessitating adult retrieval (helium balloon). Claire was just dying to play with it, but we explained that it wasn't hers and then made sure to distract her whenever we caught her looking at it.
Once we moved from the play area into the singing area, the ceilings were lower, meaning that when the balloon was released, Claire was tall enough to reach the bottom of the string. The kids were sitting along one of the walls, facing the musician, and all the adults were lining the remaining walls, trying to stay out of the way. The birthday boy and his parents were a little more toward the center so that everyone could see him. A few songs in, Claire noticed that our friend had let go of his balloon...and that the string was right at her height! I saw her notice this and saw her face light up. While I was trying to get her attention to tell her not to take his balloon, she ran over (through the middle of the room, in front of everyone), grabbed the balloon with gusto, and...returned it to her friend. I was so proud! All the adults were watching and commenting on how sweet it was. It was just really adorable.
Fast forward about 2 minutes. The balloon is released again. Again, Claire runs over, retrieves, and returns it. It's still cute and still sweet.
This little routine was repeated about 15 times, and near the end, Claire was literally sitting on her heels, eyes trained on the balloon, completely ignoring the songs and dancing going on, waiting and anticipating the balloon release so that she could go retrieve. All of the commentary about it being so sweet had long since turned into straight up laughing every time. Our very aggressive little helper found quite a way to make a name for herself. Brad ran into our neighbors the next day, and they commented about their families member laughing after the party about the "little girl who kept getting the balloon." I guess there are worse things to be known for.
Action shots.
Before we left the party, Claire was given her very own balloon. It has made several car trips with us and has slept in her room with her for the past several sleeps. Who knows how long this one will be around?
And, one more splash of Claire for you:
After eating all the icing off of her cupcake, she informed me she was done and got up. I saved the rest of the cupcake for a few minutes, in case she changed her mind. She didn't, and before we walked out the door, I checked with her again to make sure she was finished. She was. So, I threw the cupcake remnant away.
Once we were in the car, she started asking me about her cupcake. I told her I had thrown it away because she said she was done. OH MY WORD. The end of the world. She kept repeating, "Mommy, did you throw my cupcake away? I am so sad." For the next several days, she repeated (complete with a pitiful head hang), "Mommy, did you throw my cupcake away? I am so sad..." She told people that Mommy threw her cupcake away. She told people that she was sad that Mommy threw her cupcake away. She painted Mommy as such a Villain of Confectionary Disposal. And she's really good at it! I'm very disconcerted by her skills. Heaven help us.
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