Today was Irie's moment in the sun as the babies did their annual spring festival parade. Good thing a neighbor and friend had clued me into the fact that this was an event requiring some serious Martha-ish investment of time and tissue paper. We were squarely in the middle of the costume and decorated wagon/trike competition, neither lame nor over the top, which was a good place to be as the sometimes clueless expat mom. Poor Rub missed the whole affair, after an episode of projectile vomiting yesterday, but that was probably just as well, as I had apparently not gotten the message that her class was dressing up as well, if only to observe the babies in action. That could have been a serious motherly misstep on my part.
Irie is ever the fashionista with the rakish tilt of her hat, or accessorizing with a berry popsicle while hanging with her crew. This was only the beginning of the sugar fest, as cake awaited them back in the classroom for someone's birthday. I ducked out of the sure to come sugar-induced chaos to pick up some saltines and soda for Rub, who is feeling much better, and spotted one of these glorious trees on the way back to the car. They are blooming everywhere in the city, but I can't figure out if they are mimosas or the famous jacarandas of GDL, or something altogether different. Happy spring!
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