Just Call Me Santa....

This year, I got the principle part in the Christmas performance and given my shaky tearful reindeer performance last year, I was out to impress. Consequently, I decided to employ an acting technique used by many of my fellow thespians. For four days before the performance, I insisted that I be referred to as only "Santa" in my daily activities and when called my actual name, I failed to respond until addressed by my character name. Even my nursery school teachers had to call me Santa if they expected me to tidy up, sit down to lunch or otherwise behave as I was told. In addition, I referred to myself in the third person as "Santa" as in "Santa has finished his dinner now" or "Dad, come wipe Santa's bum!" It was also not a coincidence that I "accidentally" wore the pants from the Santa costume home once during rehearsals. It isn't easy to just come out of character, you know. I also was a bit confused as to who we were talking about when we discussed this Santa character who would be coming to visit Gammy's house in a sleigh. I kept trying to make my parents understand that I would be arriving on a big airplane. In the end, it got sorted out...sort of. Although I still like to call myself Santa sometimes....

Oh! Last minute wardrobe fix...that's what you get when you mix a paper belt with a robust girth.
My brilliant solo! I sang "When Santa Got Stuck Up the Chimney" loudly and all by myself!
Gripping my own props on and off the stage...hey, it was a very low budget production.

Nobody but Santa sits in the chimney.Jingle Bells!
.Group sing: We Wish You a Merry Christmas.

Santa loves mince pies!
And I wanted to include a picture of my Gingerbread house just because it is so gorgeous. (Note Santa stuck up the chimney...)

Goat Communication and other feats of strength.

Where would I most like to go for a day out of London if I couldn't go back to the train center? The nursery school teachers read my mind when they planned a trip to Willow Farm because who can resist the lure of TRACTORS!?!?!? (Not me!)

BIG TRACTORS that roll through mud and cow poop (another thing that I like to talk about recently).

LITTLE TRACTORS that my dad has to watch that I don't try to perform stunts in.

Oh yes, and then there was the moment that I shared with some young goats. They are frisky, stubborn, pushy and ravenous. When you think about it, they are not so different from me except that they have those fantastic horns that so impressively help to emphasize their point of view. Where do you think I could pick up a pair of those? I am sure they would come in handy playing in the garden at nursery....

Happy St. George's Day!

What is it? WHAT IS IT? It is St. Patrick's Day for Brits. To celebrate, we (meaning, us Brits) dress up in red and white and then proceed with our usual daily routine. Until, of course, quitting time. Then, we go out to the local pubs and totally debauch ourselves mid-week, do something completely embarassing and drag ourselves into work the next day looking like death warmed over and apologizing profusely for all naughty behavior committed the previous night.

The two year old version is actually quite similar but involving less alcohol and more sugar. I celebrated by dressing in red and white (my mom snuck in a little blue just to remain patriotic to my American half) and going to nursery school as usual.

In the afternoon, the nursery had a blow out party in the garden during which I stuffed my face with way too many cupcakes, sucked down oodles of juice, snuck a few too many candies and ran around bonkers with this lovely St. George's Day crown that I made.

When it was time to go, I went boneless and was reduced to a sobbing heap that my mom had to literally carry out the door. As expected, I passed out once I got home. However, for the record, I did NOT apologize for my naughty behavior on the previous day. It is my personal view that a two year old should NEVER apologize for being a two year old and besides, it feels good to be a little bad once in a while....

Auntie Kate Visited Me!

Aunt Kate came to visit me from New York and I introduced her to life with the Saxonator in London.

We went walking in Buckinghamshire on Saturday. Well, Kate, mom and dad walked. Trixie rode in the baby carrier. I walked, cried, went boneless and finally (victory!) my dad carried me.

On Monday, we went into the West End and visited Dad's office. Don't I look cool in Dad's hat?

Kate came with Mom to pick me up from nursery school. Unfortunately, she discoverd that I love nursery school soooo much that I am often begging to go back in after I have been enticed (or carried) out the door. Hummm, maybe I can climb back in through the letter box....

Kari was happy to see Kate as well. She spent most of her time sleeping on Kate's bed.

Christmas Concert at Nursery School or the Unhappy Reindeer Tale

Okay, I admit it. It wasn't my finest hour (or more accurately, 30 minutes). While I have been diligently rehearsing for weeks and fully expected a flawless performance, the appearance of 40 parents in the audience gave me quite a case of stage fright!

My teacher, Angela, held me on her lap as I tried to explain my performance anxieties.

Later, however, I did manage to pull myself together and perform as the "sixth" cracker in the song "Five Little Crackers." During rehearsals, I had practiced the song as the understudy for one of the five lead performers who had been ill. I wasn't going to let all that hard work rehearsing go to waste now, was I?