Anyway, like a girl after my own heart, our 2-year-old daughter loves herself some Boden. And her catalogs have proved to be some of her favorite reading material -- leaving them completely tattered, yet consistently perused, and even taped back together in some instances. The girl loves them.
One of her favorite spots in the house for hiding is on the floor behind the big green chair in her bedroom. (With her door shut, but not all the way, because then she can't open it back up.) And if you ask her, from behind the door, 'Whatchya doing?' she will answer, 'Mia taking privacy!' or 'Mia reading Boden!' Shortly thereafter you can can hear her quietly saying, 'You have that!...You have that, too!...You get that as soon as you get bigger!...You get those when you go potty in the toilet!' And on it goes.
She used to be obsessed with a picture of a boy with a soccer ball on his head. And as soon as she got her own soccer ball, she ran around the house yelling, 'Just like the boy!', which instantly made me feel better. I was worried that she was turning into a little fashionista (to quote Grandma Margaret) or something. I mean, really, the girl's only 2. But it turns out that she just loves the pictures of the kids having fun in the sunshine -- who just so happen to be natty dressers.
So after the disaster struck, I called Boden immediately to request another catalog. (They were very gracious about it, actually. As well they should be, Miss Milia is essentially a walking advertisement for them.) And the gentleman said it would take 4 or 5 days for it to arrive. The upside of this is that Emilia now has something to look forward to getting in the mail. (We are such two-peas-in-a-pod sometimes, it's scary.)
Whenever a package arrives on the doorstep it is always a moment of great excitement around here. While I go find the scissors to cut the tape, Emilia will say, with so much excitement in her voice, 'Mama's new cookbooks!' Or, 'Dada get new pants!' Or, 'Maybe Lizzie send you blanket!' Or, 'Maybe it's a new kitchen!' That last one is because I ordered the cutest little kitchen that Nigella Lawson highlighted on her website awhile ago. It is a tiny little wooden thing, about the size of a shoebox, and really quite adorable. However, it is a complete piece of junk. The handle of one of the little pots was broken before I even took it out of the box. And I have to consistently put the rest of the pieces back together again. About 5 minutes after I pulled it out of the box I asked her, 'Do you like it? Or is it lame?' She said she liked it and has actually played with it quite a bit, but I would never ever buy it again. As for those Bendick's Bittermints Nigella also has on her site, well, those may be a different story...
Anyway, one of Emilia's all-time favorite things she's gotten in the mail is an apron. Yep, a little pink apron with her name embroidered across the front, with 3 little cupcakes underneath -- curtesy, Bampa, Bamma, and Sugar, of course. (That would be Grandpa, Grandma, and Sugar Dog, lest there be any confusion.) Right after we opened it up she immediately said, 'Want it on!' She then proceeded to run all over the house with a wire whisk and a wooden spoon, shouting, 'Mia looks so beautiful! Want make cupcakes!' We had also received a cupcake making kit with some of the poshest mix I've ever seen. Bampa David clearly knows his audience -- and knows that Duncan Hines simply would not do. Instead, ours hails out of Beverly Hills. That's right, he sent us Sprinkles (Red Velvet). Well, la-di-da, if I do say so myself.
And so, last weekend while Michael worked on some boring old brief or another, Miss Milia and I made cupcakes. We pulled a chair from the dining room for her to stand on (she knows the drill, and if you're not careful she will have dragged a chair half way across the wood floors, smacking it into the walls and Governor's water bowl as she goes). We then got out the KitchenAid and went to work.
It is so funny to me that this girl is learning her way around the mixer -- but you have to (I repeat, have to) stand next to her the whole time. If I so much as go for eggs on the other side of our teeny-tiny kitchen, I have to say, 'Don't you move a muscle!' Otherwise she will have turned the mixer on full-blast, gotten her hands into everything, and nearly fallen out of her chair. Aaaah, good times.
One of her favorite jobs is to turn on the mixer. I think it makes her feel rather dangerous and like a grown-up. (Her other favorite thing is to flip batter all over the place with her rubber spatula.) Anyway, as we were putting all the ingredients into the bowl , Emilia thought it would be a great idea to get a head start and turn the mixer on full blast. And there you go, a cloud of red-velvety-goodness right in the face -- hers and mine. We must have been blowing red stuff out of noses for 2 days after that.
As for the cupcakes themselves? Well, they completely lived up to their fame and reputation. They are heavenly, beautiful to look at, and completely glamorous. (Yes, a cupcake can be glamorous.) And the best part was that all the mess washed right out of her apron. I was so worried we'd ruined it after the first 5 minutes...
(Oh, and Mom and David, if you happen to be reading this, thank you thank you thank you so much! And next time you come for a visit, please bring any Mini Boden's you happen to having lying around the house. And we, in turn, will keep you fully supplied with cupcakes -- only the poshest sorts, of course.)
**Yes, she still gets a bottle, alright? Because I've no idea how else to get milk into the girl. She only wants water or Perrier*** (if you please) in her sippy cup. I will happily take any suggestions on the matter.
***Yes, she gets Perrier, alright?
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