Frozen and Snuggles and Failed Flu Shots.

Every member of my family was deathly ill this week, including Jayne, who had a cough that sounded like a coal miner's but who still kept us afloat staying home with whichever kid was banned from school that day.

So this year's flu shot can suck it.

I also had to make a quick trip to Tampa for work, during which I had so little downtime this was the literal only view of the water I snagged (from I-275 by the airport rental car center),

and Jayne and a very sick Seth held down the fort, even managing to ride bikes and frost cookies.

 

The highlight of the finally-not-sick weekend was the long-anticipated trip to see "Frozen 2." Complete with besties,

costumes (here, the princes are bowing to the girls), 

(the costumes matched, of course).

obscenely large buckets of popcorn (seriously, why is this even a popcorn size that is sold?)

and a lifesaving, endlessly patient Grandma. Of (it turns out) four. At least.

The AMC in Holly Springs will probably never be the same.

Nor will we.

My favorite photo on a long week is this one, of my big girl still snuggling with her Dad to watch "Frozen," as she has been doing for most of her life.

We can't believe how grown-up she is these days, and we're treasuring moments like these.

So. Much. Puke. And some Science.

It's tough to top a week like last week. So both kids tried, by contracting the flu and throwing up as if their little lives depended on it.

So this year's flu shot is a bust.

Thank God for Jayne, we were still able to function on semi-normal work schedules. We even scored "brief respite" ventures out, for charity ornament-making

and school's annual "even the Starving Pilgrims wouldn't have eaten this" thankful lunch.

By Friday, Seth and I were ready for a night off, and had scheduled a date night.

Except it turned out to be dark and rainy out, and we were beat, and our living room looked like this

so instead we fell asleep on the couch in front of the fire, feeling grateful that there was nowhere else we'd rather be.

Of course, we woke up after midnight to a bed that had been freshly puked on, by a kid who turned out to be notquite over the flu. So Saturday was spent in PJs, watching football and recovering. And washing all the linens. Twice.

By Sunday we were stir crazy, and headed to our favorite, the incredible Museum of Life and Science

for terrible kid adventures in newly-chilly weather

some appreciation of science,

and a (n eventually) highly successful trip to the butterfly house.

Plus dinosaurs,

a not-unpredictable brush with water obstacles in 45 degree weather,

and train rides.

For a sick week with crummy weather, this one still managed to contain some decent adventures.

Plus- in "favorite photos of the week" news- a Very Serious Chess Game between some handsome and hilarious boys.

Finley is Five! and the Aftermath.

At some point when we weren't looking, the person on the left became the person on the right.

Which isn't all that surprising, I suppose, but the speed at which it happened (five years? really??) is whiplash-inducing, in retrospect.

Finley's birthday was on a Tuesday, so was celebrated in (relatively) low key fashion

if by "low key" one means pirate hats and "jewels" and cake pops spouting flames.

The rest of the week included a sick and cranky Ford (here, channeling Charlie Sheen on your average Wednesday: the TV at 7am was too bright, you see);

the gift (of course)(from Miss Leah) of a mermaid tail;

and a Friday shopping trip with Grandma. Comprised of the discovery of Descendants dresses,

the intro to virtual reality,

and the destruction of allofthe Ulta makeup testers. By- surprise!- not Finley.

The Ulta trip was courtesy of Finley's fervent "golden birthday" desire, to get unicorn hair. And her unspeakably indulgent Grandma's acquiescence to join her.

The unicorn hair fiasco was time consuming, expensive, completely obnoxious... and 100% worth it. You only get one Golden Birthday, and let no one say Finley squandered the opportunity.

Saturday morning dawned cold (for Fayetteville in the late fall, which means below 50), and necessitated hot chocolate

and the defacing of art exhibits;

prior to a hilarious small town rendition of a Veterans Day Parade.

And then it was on to the main event, setup almost totally courtesy of late night Moscow Mules and Jayne (who did all the baking, cake decorating, and fluffy tissue paper ball unfolding. Which is way more complicated than it looks.)

An epic, and I mean epic, time was had by all.

We lost count at 50 guests, were wildly grateful for the face painter and last minute decision to cater with Domino's,

and looked the other way when we discovered that the play room looked like this

and the cake was sampled early.

Eventually we devolved into our favorite wild state, complete with unicorn onesies and assisted by the new microphone and disco light.

I'm pretty sure Finley's Sweet 16 is going to involve crumpets and bridge. There is no way we can possibly stay on this trajectory.

I'm also slightly intimidated that, although the rest of us needed to recover, Sunday morning found the birthday girl like this.

The rest of us were partied out, like this handsome guy, until much later than 7am. When The Cleaning of the Decade commenced.

Jayne and I found cake pops and hair chalk in unmentionable places.

Once the house was no longer a SuperFund site, we went about making the most of the long weekend (our specialty) with a trip to the Aloha Zoo, where we made friends with baby goats

 and were reminded that giraffe slobber is real, and it is disgusting.

And Monday on our bonus Federal Holiday, having been zoo-inspired, we headed to my favorite, the park-like NC Zoo in Asheboro. With a still-sick Ford, having emptied the contents of his breakfast all over his car seat somewhere along highway 421, in tow in the (thankfully remembered) wagon.

This fact didn't stop Finley and Grandma from- literally-  skipping down the trail on an absolutely stunning 68 degree November day. (Grandma no doubt cognizant of the fact that it was -2 in Calvin this morning.)

Poor Ford staged a brief recovery, although not in time time for the truly spectacular elephant exhibit (we're a tad concerned that the photo on the left may be used as evidence of child abuse, so miserable was our guy in Finley's borrowed jacket),

before flatly refusing to participate in our Veterans Day picnic. A brand new tradition

complete with Peruvian chicken and zero table manners.

It was such a wild, whirlwind, hilarious week, it's hard to pick a favorite photo. Some of them include Finley, celebrating the tiniest first glimpse of fall in the Sandhills;

Ford, stuck in a purple wig because he's a little brother, and it was a Descendants party after all;

bananagrams with opponents who can't read (so consider it a tackle sport);

and our two little people, who fight pointlessly to the point that our nerves go nuclear but who also sometimes share a bike voluntarily.

We can't believe that our baby is five.

Or that we still let them ride hot wheels in the house.