Family Davis-Ross

harassing the wildlife

listen for the clear "s" at the end of geese - Thomas loves his "s" sound (video here)

Last week we went to check out the goslings which live in a field near the college. The kids were enraptured by the little fluffy geese, and very much wanted to hold them. Their parents were willing to let us get a few yards away from the little ones, but once Lucy stepped closer they began that unpleasant hissing/head bobbing that Canada geese do, so we all too three steps backward. I'm sure if we'd brought crackers or bread for the geese we could have enticed them to come closer. Then again, we probably wouldn't have left with all forty fingers or eight eyeballs, either.

(Thomas especially loved riding on the swing - video here)

We also rode on the giant tire swings nearby, which may have been as much fun as checking out the goslings.

As she whipped through the air, Lucy said she wanted to write down how they put the swing on the tree, so that we could make on of our own in California. Did I have a paper for her to take notes? No, but I did let her take a few pictures of how the ropes were tied on the tree branches. Now we just have to locate a tire.

please! please touch!

(running to get inside...they just can't wait!)

Thomas now knows the Please Touch by name, and knows it in the same way little Lucy did: by the Cheshire cat in the Alice exhibit. When I asked him if he'd like to go to the museum, his little face lit up and he sad, "cat! cat tree!" I took it as a "yes," so we went. Twice, if you can believe it.

Both trips were really great: everyone was willing to compromise and move along and share toys and go to the restroom when asked. There was a fair amount of separate play which did test my nerves. For example: children in the shoe store and the hospital, while I stood guard at a strategic corner, keeping an eye on all three at once. I said a million prayers of apology for all of the judgment I'd cast years ago, wondering who these mothers were who didn't supervise their small children! I'm now the mother who manages to be both everywhere and nowhere at once, allowing my toddler to swipe babies and hog the MRI machine because I was off helping my son try on glittery high heels.

 

The highlight of both trips were the painting easels in the program room. On our first trip, they'd painted a dozen pictures that I'd forgotten to pick up at the end of the day, so of course we had to return and make more art. These, I remembered to pick up.

Additional highlights: watching our third year of the Scat Cat show (unanimous favorite part: when the cat was in a REAL TRASHCAN! HAHAHAHA. It takes so little for the preschool set) and learning that our favorite employee recognized us. As he said, "you come here a lot, don't you?" Yeah. We do.

expressive

Lucy has been going through a particularly expressive period lately. She's always been one for big faces and lots of gestures, but over the past few months they've become even more exaggerated. Her signature look is that type of disbelieving eye squint/head shake that borders on ironic.

Relatedly, if only because it's something she's started to do lately, Lucy's been able to tell us the most vivid details of her dreams. It's crazy stuff, these dreams of hers. I've asked her a few times if she's just making up stories or if these really are her dreams, and she admits some are stories, but most are really her dreams. For realsies! I feel as though I should start a dream journal for her, but am a little frightened as to what it may reveal about her subconscious.

cheap dates! (here's to mother's day)

We took advantage of our time in New Jersey on Mother's Day for a cheap date of sorts: lunch (without children spilling or shouting or climbing on the table or eating my food) and ice cream and a few episodes of Mad Men, too. It's always amazing when Kevin and I can have conversations and finish streams of thoughts.

The children were more than happy to let us go on our own as they had all sorts of fun waiting for them: Maelynn and a swimming pool and the promise of Popsicles, plus some television time of their own.

(and here's the end of a series of videos I took of the kids playing dolls so sweetly together...Thomas took a big fall but was OK after some love and a piece of chocolate)

Later we enjoyed dinner outside in some fantastic spring weather. Corn on the cob was on the menu, and Lucy asked if we could take some cobs home to make a corncob doll wrapped in a handkerchief, just like Laura. I'm not sure if her corncob doll is still around or if one of the crazy attack squirrels of Crum Ledge has taken it off.

chocolate factory

Our preschool group visited a local chocolate factory a few weeks ago. It surprisingly met with some resistance, as Peter was very keen on revisiting the Hershey factory with the super-cool ride for a tour. Instead, we visited the oldest family-owned chocolate factory in the United States. Pish, the children say. What about the ride? And the dancing cows? "It's the milk chocolate, ooh-eee."

They were much happier with free reign to select a treat from the chocolate factory store. It was here that I realized I'd make my first mistake of the day: I'd not properly prepped Lucy on our timeline. In my head, we'd (1) take the tour then (2) shop for chocolate. Lucy quickly let me know she'd drafted a different story for our day: (1) shop for chocolate; (2) eat chocolate; (3) tour?

We compromised, and in the end a giant pink lollipop was purchased but not eaten until after the tour and the rest of our chocolate browsing/selecting. Knowing the pink lollipop was safe in our backpack was helpful to her, I think. It did stop the maniacal screaming.

I took home some chocolate covered pretzels and caramels, with the hope of packaging them up so nicely for Mother's Day.* We also took home more than a few pieces of candy that had found themselves in Thomas's mouth and then partially chewed. Ew! Luckily, he had good taste.

*There was a moment Saturday night when Kevin said, "you know, if you have any notion of giving these chocolates as gifts, you'll need ot hide them away" to which I replied, "oh, for the love of God, let's just eat them all!" And we did. And they were good.

I'm a sucker

The children used their magic powers of persuasiveness* to sucker me into letting them watch some "muffets" on television. They're bewildered by the Muppets despite having watched several episodes of Sesame Street.

Peter: These are people dressed up.
Lucy: No, Peter, they're not people. They're too small to be people.
Peter: They're kids or babies dressed up, then.
Lucy: Their voices don't sound like babies.
Me: They're like puppets.
Peter: Then how are they talking?
Me: Like this (imitates puppet with hand while talking nonsense).
Peter: (Dubious look.) They are people dressed up.
Lucy: Yeah, them are people.

*Cranky kids + working-on-a-Saturday-Kevin + some sweet, sweet compromise ("I think we could all like the muffets, Mama, even Thomas. We all would live it and be happy.")

overheard

Lucy: Peter, come see this.
Peter: Is it a daddy long-legs?
Lucy: No, it's a mama long-legs.
Peter: I think it's a little kid long-legs.

fun for all ages

As you can see, Kevin enjoyed his time at the bounce house, too, just as I knew he would.

These videos make his jumping over the children look somewhat less dangerous than it appeared at the time. I thought for sure someone was going to lose a tooth, and it would be all his fault - or his knee's fault.

creek walk, four ways

So it's what we do now, apparently. And it's not just "we go in the creek when we go to the creek," but "we seek out every creek we can so that we can get as wet as we possibly can.

We're lucky we have friends who enjoy splashing, collecting rocks, and braving chilly waters as much as we do.

One of our little friends borrowed my camera, and I found a bunch of pictures from a new perspective; here's one of the kids very carefully crossing a small ravine across a fallen tree. I'm in the far back, half cut out of the picture, trying very hard to keep Thomas from eating lip balm. I totally failed.

(1) Drexel Lodge Park, where Peter ran right past the train-shaped playground and the actual train car to the pond. He and Matthew spotted a snake which slithered into the water, and we began exploring the water.

(It was here Lucy spotted a Canada goose and surprised me by remembering details of the "duck and goose show" we'd seen the day before at the museum. "We saw a goose and it ate too much protein and its feathers didn't grow the right way.")

 

(2) We explored a nearby nature preserve and found the exact stretch of Ridley Creek I'd had my eyes on for over a year. The kids hiked trails, hauled big orange rocks from the water, braved deep parts of the creek, and made nice with the school kids  who came hiking into our picnic spot.

(3) Peter, Lucy, Thomas and I found ourselves in the small stretch of creek behind our house, where we looked for salamanders and found a snake instead. I really, really wanted one of the children to pick up the snake but - probably sensing my own wariness - refused. I'd thought for sure Thomas would have reached for it. Perhaps it was moving too quickly?

(4) And in the clearest sign of exactly what they wanted, the kids got their swim suits on so that they could go "swimming super deep, up to my elbows" under the train tressel. We had to scare off some 15-year-old boys cursing up a storm and drinking beer. We walked carefully over the dam to the other side of the creek. Peter found a perfect place to test his civil engineering skills as he built a waterway from a small natural spring and some mud, and Thomas found an almost unlimited supply of rocks to toss in the water.

I'll be honest: there's a lot about stomping in these creeks that drives me batty. The water's cold and they always end up with blue, chattering lips. There's the changing of wet clothes which is a physical challenge. I don't allow myself to think of the potential dangers and instead just keep diligent watch on all small ones at play. And most difficult of all, I have to make peace with the promise of getting wet and muddy myself.

little sailor boy

Just after Peter was born, Kevin's mother gave us this little sailor suit that she'd made for Kevin many years ago. Kevin was horrified he'd ever worn such an outfit, and we both giggled at the thought of a one-year-old Kevin wearing something that barely fit on our four-month-old.

Peter at 4 months

What I didn't realize at the time was that a one-year-old is essentially the same size as a four-month-old. A four-year-old is about the same size, for that matter. Babes grow in leg length, but their torso and waist remain about the same size for years.*

I also didn't realize just how every little boy needs a sailor suit. It's kind of the most adorable look, ever. The ringlets help, for sure. Thomas is lucky that I don't want to ruin this outfit, or he'd find himself in it every day.

*Thankfully, as we packed a pair of 12 month and 18 month pants for our two boys for Thanksgiving this year. We'd packed the clothes (rather than wear them) so that the kids would look nice and lovely for the family picture. Peter fit in the 18 month pants without much effort. He's also found himself wearing 18-month t-shirts when they find their way into his dresser drawer. That's an awesome look: belly shirt and three-quarter sleeves.

campus life

(1) There's a piece of art on campus called "slide rock," which is exactly as it sounds: a slide, with a rock at the end. It invites climbing and play, and with no signs saying "keep off," we climb on.

(2) Lucy (followed by Thomas then Peter) crashed some students' whiffle-ball game. She walked right up to home plate, grabbed a spare bat, and asked for a pitch. The students were exceptionally gracious as all three Davis-Ross children played offense, and we all were impressed when Peter cracked a solid hit over the pitcher's head.

We'll miss Swarthmore, for sure.

Thomas: one amazing toddler

A month or two ago, I mentioned to Kevin that Thomas wasn't speaking as much as Lucy or Peter had at this age.

Now, not only is Thomas a speaking machine, he's added quite a few choice words into his vocabulary. My current favorite phrase is "no Mama" or "no Mommy" or "no Daddy," depending on who's trying to take the bottle of soy sauce out of his hands.

He'll say "yes" ("yesh"), too. Other great words: chocolate, cookie, and oink-oink.

He blew us away today by counting to 20 along with Kevin as we timed Peter's track race.

Definitely a musical child, he picked up "Life Goes On" in a short day.

Other facts that continue to amaze us:

1. Last week, he was playing by our neighbor's azalea bush. All of a sudden, he came running over to where I was working with Peter and Lucy, his tiny face scrunched in pain. "Ouch! Ouchy there! Bee there!" It turns out, he was pinching bumblebees and was rewarded with his first bee sting. He cried, he was sad, but it lasted for just a few seconds. By the time I figured out which finger had the sting, he was done crying and ready to go stomping in the creek.

2. He is, without question, a brute. The falls he takes would knock me out and probably send his brother and sister inside for an ice pack and a good sob, but he seems singularly unphased. He's almost too unphased.

3. He picked up a naked Barbie doll while at Grammy and Poppy's house and regarded her with curiosity. "Tap-tap there," he said. "Tap-tap other side." Translation: she has breasts. Two of them. (He's taken to asking for "other side."

like Laura

some chores: washing clothes for church, making bread

We've been in the full throws of Laura Ingalls Wilder fever here. Many pretend games begin with "I'm Laura and you're Mary and Thomas is baby Carrie," involve the construction of wagons full of venison, and require finding a gun (or perhaps three) for hunting bears and jaguars.

At times, especially when we encounter a moment of wills*, I wish I could sit down with the children and explain to them in a way that would make them understand just how Laura and Mary could not ever speak to Ma or Pa in this manner. Could Laura have told Pa that she wished she could throw him in the trash can? Would Mary ever dreamed of telling Ma "you're not the boss of the treats!"

I don't wish for that relationship, frankly, although a smidge less drama at times would be welcome. I don't need complete obedience, and I recognize that their ability to tell us all sorts of hurtful feelings is really a good sign. We'll love them no matter what they tell us, no matter how upset they become with us.

Still. I wouldn't complain if they decided to kick in a little more effort in the "chore" department, especially after deciding to load up their wagon with every last movable piece of furniture, the contents of their bookshelf, and all available art supplies.

*Example: "It's time to come inside for dinner!" "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! I REFUSE!" (Insert screams of tortured pain.)

fifth birthday fun

Peter was pretty clear about what he wanted for his fifth birthday party: to play with his friends and family. When asked who to invite, he chose his two closest friends (and their families). When asked to invite more, he refused. ("I don't want my party to get too crazy," he reasoned. "And I can't play with everyone if I invite too many people.")

So we gathered at a local playground, a day before his true birthday, to celebrate with pizza and friends and family.

And chipwiches! Peter spotted some in a vending machine at the zoo earlier in the week, and he decided that we must have them for dessert. He didn't seem to notice that my homemade chipwiches were light on the ice cream and skipped the decorative chocolate chips, or that by the end of the party they were a little on the soggy side.

On his birthday proper, Peter woke to a small scavenger hunt to find his birthday gift and five trick candles in his steel-cut oats. Those ended up being the only candles he blew out for his birthday, it turns out.

The highlight of his birthday was joining his friends at a local (and very fun) bounce house venue. We'd visited once before and continued to rave about it to Kevin. We promised to take him on a weekday, once Kevin was done with his classes.

Other birthday highlights: so much gratitude when opening gifts and cards that arrived at his party and in the mail. While he's always received gifts with thanks, there seemed to be a particular appreciation when he opened a card from his great grandmother or a gift from his friends. Or more accurately: he's realizing that these efforts mean that he's loved, that these cards and gifts are signs of love for him, and he's thankful for the good wishes.

We ended the night getting dinner out and enjoying family ice creams. Peter's just like his parents: an ice cream boy.

When we first moved to Swarthmore, our neighbor was five. It seemed so old. We quickly realized that Peter would be five when it was time for us to move, and I couldn't process it. Could he ever be that big? Ever?

The answer is, as you know, yes.

rain? rain?

As it's spring, the weather for the past few weeks has shown a chance of rain every day. No big deal - rain I can handle. Many days have also shown a chance of thunderstorms, and that's where I've been drawing the line.* The kids aren't fans of thunderstorms inside, to say nothing of how terrifying they must be outside.

The problem, however, is that the weather predictions have been wrong. Wrong! No rain. Sometimes, even sunny skies. It's like meteorologists or Mother Nature are conspiring to trap us against our wills.

After a morning spent trapped inside (or spent snuggling on the sofa with a warm cup of tea and many read-alouds), all three children were clamoring to escape outside. And who could blame them? The sun was out, the sky was blue, it was beautiful.**

Our neighbors happily joined us on a hike down to the train trestle, and before we could say "wait!" they were all in the water. They were just as wet as having been caught in a rainstorm, but somehow it's different if it's of their own free will. (Also, I wasn't getting wet. That's a big difference.)

Later, the play moved to the sandy banks of the creek, where the game of choice was to smear sand all over themselves. Literally. This isn't exaggeration. Penelope was having difficulty reaching her back and asked for help spreading the sand around.

Two baths later, their little ears and scalps still had sand buried inside.

Two baths were necessary that day, too, as we joined Kevin at the math department picnic. Ice cream, cheese poofs, cake, and possibly a hot dog or two: the dinner of champions. Lucy stalked the dessert table in search of new treats to eat, and asked several people (who were not her parents) if she could have more ice cream.

When not stealing chips from his brother and sister, Thomas found an amazing place to hide beneath the leaves of this Japanese maple. See him? I wouldn't have, either, except I watched him walk inside.

*True story: a few days ago, Kevin honestly suggested that thunder comes from clouds bumping together. His excuse? "I went to Catholic school."

**And so are you. We've been listening to "Dear Prudence" a lot lately.

"hello?"

Thomas calls the telephone the "hello," and he does a pretty good job of "talking" on it when given the chance. From his initial "hello," to the pause of an imaginary person asking "how are you?" to the reply of "good" suggests he's listened to a few real phone conversations. He's almost always talking to Grammy and Poppy. Oh! And last week he hand an entire real conversation with Kevin while we were at the vegetable market, and I had no clue. Too busy looking for bulk kale, I guess.

He's also good with the camera. I love finding videos from him when I upload the camera at the end of the day.

FIVE YEARS OLD

Five! The mind continues to blow. I swear, he woke up this morning looking older than ever.

(new bike courtesy of Grammy and Poppy - wait until he figures out what the pegs are for)

kite day

The kids found their kites as I was cleaning out our shed, and - lucky them! - it was a windy day. We ran the kites around our yard for a bit, but since we live in the woods it wasn't very successful. (Or, it was very successful, as every time a kite got stuck in a tree we could get it down.)

We took the kites - and our neighbors - to the college's obliging open fields. The kids ran, the kites flew, and Kevin came to help us welcome the weekend with some sunny spring weather and an item checked off our spring fun list.

    

(please note the college students playing Quidditch behind Lucy; we'll miss Swarthmore)

Kites weren't the only things that went flying that day, either.

I love this kid

Take that, gender roles!

fun and mostly free: bowling

We bowled a game with our Kids Bowl Free passes last week. It  was mostly a success, even if an older lady bowler came over from the league lanes to offer me a "God bless you, bowling with three small children all by yourself."

Peter was determined to bowl without the aid of a ramp. I'm not sure how he didn't rip his wrist off with his bowling technique. I tried to show him a few times a more fluid motion, but in all honesty I don't think his hand was large enough to do what I demonstrated. After a slow start (and several balls wedged in the space between the bumper and the gutter; yes, such a space exists, and it's the perfect size for an oddly thrown bowling ball), he managed to get a groove of sorts and reliably knock down six pins per frame.

Thomas was all about bowling, just as Lucy had been at that age. In many ways, bowling is the perfect toddler work: picking up balls, walking them down ramps, knocking down pins, doing it all over again. Aside from turn-taking, his limitation was a powerful fascination with the ball return machine.

The highlight for Lucy was the shoes. Period. She flat-out stated, after bowling her first three frames, that what she really liked about bowling was getting to wear new shoes. She gained more speed after eating an apple and finished the game in high spirits, but seriously: shoes. All about the shoes.

In the end, Thomas legitimately beat his brother and sister, although he had a few advantages on his side.

some preschool fun

(1) Lucy's request to study ballet has been very much during our recent rainy days. There has been lots of dancing and twirling and dressing up. It reminds me to be better about integrating movement and music into our daily life.

Some observations:

- Lucy loves the dress-up and storytelling portions of ballet. She wants to act out specific scenes from different ballets and please believe costumes are not optional.

- Peter has surprised me by taking a kind interest in ballet. ("Kind" as opposed to "cranky," or that inevitable kind of "why are we doing Lucy's special thing and not mine?!?!" whine that derails our fun. I think studying monsters at the same time helps.) He likes trying the different positions and moving his body like the ballerinos we've studied. Also, since he's a little more coordinated than Lucy, he tends to be a better dancer than she.
- Thomas loves the music. Of all three children, he seems to have the most natural aptitude for music. He picks up songs quickly, has a good ear for rhythm, and stunned me by skipping tracks on the ballet CD - past Swan Lake and Sleeping Beauty - until he arrived at songs from the Nutcracker. He then ran into the kitchen and cried "NUTCRACKER! NUTCRACKER! DANCE! DANCE!"

(2) I proved my lesson plan prowess a few weeks ago when I coupled free pretzel day with a lesson about the Eucharist. We broke bread, drank lemonade, talked about finding Jesus in the world, and all for free! and in our car.

(3) We made "monster" slime (glue and laundry starcH) to further our understanding of monsters. Peter requested to learn about scary things, like monsters and soldiers, so we've been brushing up on mythical creatures.

(4) Oh! And on a particularly yucky, rainy day the kids watched Monster's Inc. It's the second movie they've seen - the first was Finding Nemo, during our study of oceans, and it was a total disaster. So, so many tears, full-on sobbing, and lots of post-movie sniffles. I felt a Pixar hangover the rest of the day from the emotional roller coaster.

(5) And while not a specific item on the lesson plan, this little one seems determined to join our work at the big table.

empowered kids

A tongue-in-cheek-but-rooted-in-truth complaint you'll overhear muttered at FDR HQ is "why are we raising such empowered children?"

You'll hear it following the shattering of a ceramic bowl, full of pistachios, after Lucy had dragged a stool over to the counter to help herself. (It's equally likely this bowl is full of raw rolled oats and coconut. We get a lot of that, too.)

You'll hear it after we find a suspicious, muddy trail leading from the front door to the bathroom sink, where Peter is filling his plastic bucket with water for outdoor mess-making,.

You'll hear it when we find a pile of washcloths and towels, used once and tossed in the washing machine, after someone cleans up a spill.

Or when upon encountering the empty bin of orange slices at the Chinese restaurant, Lucy insists that we "ask the man" at the Chinese restaurant to refill it. Now. NOW!

And I often think it after engaging in a frustrating battle of wills with the preschool set. It would be so much easier if we were "in charge" and they didn't harbor any notions of being equal participants in the family.

Then again, I know that their empowerment is a key component to their successful development. Kevin's nervous that they will tumble into the terrible obnoxiousness that he sometimes sees with his elite liberal arts students. I'm just thankful that when they make a spill they even think of cleaning it up, even if it does add to the ever-mounting load of laundry.

***

And so in this spirit, here's something that really, truly happened last Thursday.

We'd just come home from the vegetable market, and as I was putting away our groceries Peter set to answering some questions about nails and rocks and wood.* A few minutes after dragging his toolbox outside, Peter came running back inside. "Mom? Can you help me? I'm trying to hammer some nails and Thomas has the saw and he wants to saw me."

Yep. Toddlers with saws. Later, hammers.

This afternoon ended in a way that surprised me, if only because we've never considered doing it before: hiking into the woods to cut down a tree. No photos were taken of the sawing, but let me assure you it was amazing that we left with all fingers and thumbs intact.

*I'm not clear on the actual question, but it was answered by hammering a nail in a rock and in wood. Something about density, or weight, or floating versus sinking objects?

 

while the kid are at play

I came upstairs to pack up a bag for the thrift store. We've started packing, which is to say I've started going through all of our things and reorganizing them. It probably drives Kevin insane with the constant state of mess all in the name of "getting organized,' but he's such a good guy he never complains. (It helps that the mess is located only in two rooms. But those two rooms? Yikes!)

While I was stuffing old toys and weird baby clothes into a bag, I could over hear the kids playing downstairs. Three different games (ballet class, boats on an ocean, and basketball team), yet all going on at the same time. Each child has a hand in another's game while at the same time doing just what he wants.

It is loud (tap shoes, noisy basketball hoop that's also on its way to the thrift store, shrieks and giggles and boisterous singing), but it is peaceful. 

They take such good care of one another when I'm not around. I'm thankful for that, because they easily could take a page from my childhood play book and start biting one another when they have their first opportunity.

Also: lately, in their pretend play, Thomas is "Jacob." And he answers! He answers to Jacob. It blows my mind.

new tree swing

We found a new tree swing by the creek today. It can't possibly be comfortable, but the kids refused to get off. One (or more) may have even fallen off while demanding "MORE PUSH" or "higher, please Mama."

lesson plan: dance!

Lucy wanted to learn about ballet, so I brainstormed all of the remotely ballet-related activities in the area. I immediately thought of the dancing room at the Delaware Children's Museum. You may recall that I very much dislike this museum, but the kids seem to like it, and the dancing room is one of the highlights.

Yes. There was dancing. It was fun.

But more fun? Face paint. The museum was celebrating its second birthday, so there were birthday-themed activities around the museum. The kids painted their faces several times, painted my face, and then painted their faces again. I remembered to take my face paint off before visiting the tiniest supermarket in the world later that day, although the kids still had their paint on and looked all kinds of fun.

Thomas would not stay out of the climbing sphere in the middle of the museum. I'd turn to help one child and he'd dash off, climbing up inside.

We were in the art room when the birthday celebration started, and the kids came out (paintbrushes in hand) to see silly string and confetti spray. They were very curious about the silly string, so when one of the museum staff offered to let Peter and Lucy spray the silly string, they were all over it. This generous encounter happened in the bathroom, which was a little weird.

a mini vacation (super-cheap style)

We spent a weekend away from home for no real reason other than the fact that we wanted to visit some New Jersey museums and we wanted to get caught up on Mad Men. Also, I think there was a fair amount of toll avoidance going on. What can I say? We don't like to pay the $5 to cross back into Pennsylvania.

Our first stop was at the aquarium, where we finished our ocean studies by looking at ocean life. We arrived before the aquarium opened, so we could enjoy some quiet moments with the animals. Once again, Thomas loved the hippo. He ran back to see the eating hippos several times. "Hippo! Hippo!" (It's one of his clearest words.)

(all alone in the shark tunnel; also, I apparently stopped taking pictures this weekend at this point)

After we escaped the filling aquarium, we stopped at a historic drive-in for lunch...in our car! There were major tears at this point ("I want my OWN MILKSHAKE! I DON'T WANT TO SHARE!"), but once the food came, the novelty of eating in our car took over.

We spent the night at Grammy and Poppy's house. The kids ask for a sleepover there all the time, although I'd love the kind of sleepover where we drop them off and then walk away. (They've made it clear this isn't happening for a while. I continue to dream.) Grammy and Poppy were away for the evening, so we could pretend we were staying in a hotel, stocked with free snacks and a basement of toys to keep the kiddos entertained.

Sunday was filled with breakfast and church and a visit to the Garden State Discovery Museum, where Lucy could finally dance on the stage. It's all she's talked about for months. Unfortunately, the stage was closed for a nature show later in the day. But! We attended the nature show, and Lucy was able to participate on stage.

With our moving date looming (2 months away!), it's nice to fill our weekends with our last favorites in the area and sneak in some good family time for the kiddos.

seed balls for earth day

Our homeschool group made seed balls for Earth Day. With the chance to get dirty and the chance to secretly garden our neighbors' yards, I knew the kids would like it.

(Truthfully, they liked the playground more. They are children, you know.)

Later that day, we took our seed balls and secretly deposited one in each of our neighbors' yards. It took a little planning in choosing the right spots, and a bit of convincing that perhaps in the middle of the yard was not a great spot.

and at last, it happened: someone fell in the pond at the arboretum

(Thomas climbed on all of the frogs and asked me to take his picture on each. I put the camera away before I caught on to his game, so it became a new one. He'd say "say cheese! camera? all gone!")

It only was a matter of time, really, before someone tumbled into the pond at Tyler Arboretum. The children (and their parents) love to lean over the edge, toss things end, reach out with sticks, and otherwise test the laws of gravity.

I've scoped out the pond many times, always to the same conclusion: it's shallow enough to not be dangerous, but man oh man would it be a pain to hop in and rescue a kid. So mucky! So wet!

Thomas was the one who fell in. He was dead set on it, from the way he kept wiggling under the fence. I removed him from the scene several times, only to find him there again, on his stomach, poking a tiny stick into the waters.

He was fine, as I knew he would be. The water where he fell in was about eighteen inches deep, although when one does a somersault into a pond one does get completely and totally soaked.

He probably would have been better if I'd been willing to offer him some comfort (a hug?) before changing him and cleaning him off. But we were due for dinner at Miss Alicia's house in less than half an hour and I didn't bring a change of clothes for myself. Once he was a little drier and less pond-swamp smelling, I was happy to cuddle his chilly body and help him find his giggles again.

(here, the kids are talking on their "cell phones" - pieces of mulch)

It ended an otherwise awesome trip to the arboretum. We explored treehouses, dressed up, and enjoyed the day. Our days and outings get easier and easier as the children get older. Thomas was able to navigate all of the treehouses himself. even the rickety-rackety stepped one which seems unsafe for anyone at any age.

We spent a good part of our visit at the dress-up stage, where Thomas insisted on wearing front and back armor and Lucy made me an offer I could only refuse: "here's my deal: you can let me take this skirt home or you have to buy me one in the gift shop. Do you understand?"

the pet problem

The children have been mounting an effective and subtle campaign for a pet. Aside from the occasional "we should get a cat...you know, to get the mice" suggestions, they have taken to incorporating pets into all aspects of play.

Their few stuffed animals have joined their dolls in scenes of pretend play - no longer to the kids have babies, but dogs too!

The other day I came home from the library booksale to find Lucy had set up several fish tanks around the house. She'd taken some of her sea-themed Schleich animals and put them in glass jars full of water. Ever one to join in on a good idea, Peter created a terrarium as well as another fish tank.

And they've started naming animals. It's a game, and a fun one at that. Peter's especially creative when naming the animals: the hammerhead shark is "Toolbox" and the ibex is "Hike," since it lives in mountains and reminds him of hiking.

Lucy's not quite so clever in her naming. Many animals are "Sally" or "Sam," two of her favorite pretend-person names. She did, however, call one of her raccoons "Quinoa."

Unfortunately for these little ones, a real pet is not in the works anytime soon. Allergies and frugality tends against fluffy, cuddly pets. Also, our track record isn't the greatest. After just a few weeks of pet ownership, I'm sad to say that Sally (the hermit crab, not the plastic baby raccoon or doll) is no longer with us.

Lucy took this news in stride. In remarkable stride, actually. She became a little emotional, then her face cleared and she said, "but when we move to California we can catch more hermit crabs from the ocean! and then when those crabs die, we can get EVEN MORE!"

Advance apologies to all hermit crabs in California: my daughter is coming.

curly Lu

I set Lucy's hair with braids a few nights ago. She was delighted the next morning with the results, and asked for it again that night. Except, in all honesty, braiding ten little braids around her little head with her wet baby-fine hair was not at all fun, especially considering her head is in perpetual motion.

So, rather than risk carpel tunnel and exhausting all my patience, I gave her twisty curls. I don't know - is there a name for these? Where you twirl your hair around and around until it loops up atop itself? They  were much easeir to do than the braids, although she did complain more about it pulling her head.

Anyway, they worked marvelously, which is to say she had a hair full of curls. She was clearly pleased with the volume, so neither Kevin nor I had the heart to tell her just how ridiculous she looked.

This hairstyle also reminded me of the time I caught her moments away from jamming something - a knife? a pair of scissors? - into the power outlet. FOR REAL.

Me: Lucy, what are you doing?
Lucy: I wanted to stick this in here to see what would happen.
Me: YOU WOULD DIE!!!
Lucy: Please don't use harsh words with me, Mama.

dear Miss Kristin,

We couldn't make it to story time last week because we spent a little time doing this:

Not on the lesson plan, by the way. I though we'd do some finger painting for Thomas. The kids helped me mix up some paint in a variety of colors, and, before I could say "smocks" they'd stripped out of their clothes and began smearing the paint on their bodies.

(For the record, someone may have asked first. I also have to believe that they're so conditioned to this kind of action that they honestly think there's no reason to ask. It's as if someone puts a nice glass of cold water in front of you on a hot summer day: the intent is there. Drink up, or, in this case, smear away.)

Within moments, two things happened. Thomas decided he wanted to wash his hands and ended up sitting in the sink, playing with water, for ten minutes. And during those ten minutes? I watched as Peter and Lucy engaged in all manners of hilarity, including slithering around on their slimy bellies, pretending to be weird sea creatures, all over the kitchen floor. All over! I wish I could post the video because it is out of this world crazy, but you read the part about being naked, right?

sneaking in a literacy lesson;
plus, I can't help but feel perhaps I am one?

In about two months, we may actually be living somewhere with real floors. (Carpet? Wood? Tile?) We have to take advantage of the last days of industrial chic. Clean up is surprisingly easy (throw the kids in the bath, run a quick mop over the floor), and it definitely filled our afternoon.

my standards are not this low, Kevin

I came home from a shopping errand tonight and caught a look at myself in the bathroom mirror.

Yes, I had just gone out with the green eyelash face paint Peter had given me hours earlier. It was just artistic enough to possibly be done for effect (by a crazy person), and not at all obviously the work of preschoolers on their obliging mama.

I pointed out my face to Kevin and said, "well, I can see why I was getting so many weird looks at Target tonight. And I thought it was my smokin' bod!"*

To this, Kevin replied, "oh, I thought you knew. And I didn't think you cared."

For the record, I actually do kind of care about looking like a total lunatic when out in the world. I'm just thankful I didn't put on my (kind of dirty and weirdly fitting) pajama pants first. I was tempted to do that.

(Oh. I see why Kevin may have assumed my standards had fallen so low...)

*Complete and total sarcasm here, as said smokin' bod was hiding under layers of fleece, down vests, and a thick layer of my SIL's Oreo stash. Sorry, Bridget, I may have eaten a dozen or so of your cookies while in NJ this weekend!

the frog park

We revisited Glen Providence Park last week with our playground. The kids didn't remember this nature park at first; it took a few attempts to jog their memories. "We saw a snake? On an island? With Matthew, Anna and Sophia?" But we see snakes all the time. Hmm. "You climbed trees?" Where don't we climb trees? "We played in the creek waters?" (You all know that's a nonstarter.)

Then: "Our yellow bucket went into the tube? and came out on the other side in the pond?"

Bingo.

So, to the park of the magical drainage tunnel, where yes, we saw snakes and played in the creek water and climbed trees.

This visit was pretty much idyllic*, from the weather to the burst of spring green to our favorite company.

The kids poked and explored, climbed rocks and crossed creeks, ate snacks and swapped shoes, all the while keeping an eye out for wildlife to be captured and examined.

We found fish and tadpoles by the hundreds. (Possibly millions. The pond was teeming with tiny tadpoles.) After many false starts, Peter and Matthew finally located and captured a toad. It was a moment of real teamwork, the kind of stuff that makes you realize just how old these children are getting. Miss Alicia looked up the differences between frogs and toads on her handy-dandy smartphone so we could accurately identify our catch.

The kids later captured several other toads and at least one other frog. No snakes were spotted, although there were dozens of turtles in the pond. I had my mind on catching a turtle, but unwisely brought nine excited five-ish-year-olds with me. "ARE THE TURTLES OVER HERE? MISS AMY, DID YOU SEE THAT GIANT TURTLE? MAMA, ARE YOU?" These weren't the quiet voices of the turtle hunters.

In the end, all turtles swam away. After seeing the loving curiosity we gave the amphibians, I can't help but think it's for the best.

Kevin's already asked if we could revisit the park with him. I think he has his eye on a turtle, too. We've not ever found one during our time at the edge of the creek, much to our surprise. Snakes are becoming increasingly common, but no turtles. (The other day we found a snake under one of our insect/worm/salamander inspections on the back patio. We've found half a dozen on our back patio, and more down by the creek.)

*And I'm not saying this because, a week later, I'm dressed in down and two layers of fleece and grumpy that it's cold and rainy.