Peter and Penelope figured out the best way to guard their goal today. Points for impermeability and comfort.
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March 2011
March 29, 2011
why our bathroom door is off-limits
earlier today:
Lucy: "Ow! I hurt my finger in the door!" (much crying, mostly for effect)
Peter: "Lucy, that's why the door says 'no kids,' because it's not safe for kids to use."
Lucy runs over to the door to check out the posted sign. "I didn't know, Peter. I'm sorry."
A week or so ago Peter similarly pinched his fingers in the bathroom door. It's not the door's fault, but rather just the result of fast-moving little hands and a nice habit of shutting the bathroom door.
Peter's solution to this problem was to write a sign reading "no kids," to remind us of the rule, which apparently is "no kids can use this door because it's dangerous." (For the record, this isn't a family rule. Also, it's never followed.)
He sat down with a paper and crayon and asked me how to spell this rule. As I gave him each letter, he wrote it down, which surprised me because (a) he's never ever done anything like this before and (b) he didn't need help making any of his letters. (Well, as you can see, he needs some help, but he thought he knew what to write for each letter.)
Ever since, we've had more signs, letters, and notes pop up around. Yesterday, he asked me what my favorite color is, wrote it down, and instructed me to tape it to the office door. Today, after becoming frustrated when I didn't let him color his chair with pastels, he wrote "paint chair" on his chalkboard. I guess we'll be painting his chairs when the weather warms up.
I'm not surprised by his writing notes. We do it quite a bit as a way to help stave off irrational temper tantrums. Out of green paint? Put it on our list. You don't want to wear jackets, only sweatshirts? I'll put a note in the backpack so I remember for next time.
Something about note-writing (stopping and getting paper; listening to dictation; taking time to write down words; the formality and permanence of the written word itself) almost always transforms the mood. It's as close to a magic trick as any I have as a mother.
March 28, 2011
Thomas, six months
Half a year with this kid? At times it feels as though he's always been a part of the family, and other times it feels as though we still don't have our third-baby legs. (You know, like sea legs, only with a little more screaming and a lot more crying.)
Thomas's most recent development is wanting to crawl. He moves around on his own accord by other means (some scoots, mostly backward; lots of barrel-rolling around), but every few minutes he'll pull himself up into crawl position and rock. Frankly, it looks a little obscene. Uncle Jason and Aunt Jen couldn't resist noting that their dogs do the same thing, but for a very different purpose. I feel as though neither Peter nor Lucy attempted crawling with such a maneuver, but then again I can't reliably remember my social security number on any given day, so it's entirely possible all D-R children had a brief pit-stop in "horny teenage boy" before transitioning to "successful crawler."
More on Thomas at six months:
- He's quite cheerful unless sick or overtired. Then, he's a cranky mess.
- He's a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad napper. Not a surprise.
- Nighttime sleep is decent to fair. It's unreliable enough in the pre-midnight hours that I don't like to leave, since Kevin literally can't offer Thomas what I can. When Thomas does wake at night we share a few sweet moments. He'll fuss, I'll come upstairs, and the moment he hears my voice he'll stop crying and wait patiently for me. If I take too long - getting a book to read, for example - he might whimper again, but he knows that I'm there to care for him.
- He's started to be very, very grabby. He'll reach for anything of interest that's remotely near his reach - scissors included. This also means he's explore his toys for a few minutes, too, which makes me feel less neglectful when I plop him down to attend to other matters, pressing (injured child) or not (sneaking another bite of my secret chocolate stash).
- No sign of teeth, but he is chewing on everything he can get his hands on.
he struggled mightily for his cousin's cup, then didn't know what to do with it
We may start feeding him people food soon, but frankly I'm in no rush at all. We have good reasons to wait and some not-so-good reasons, including "one more thing to clean up" and "fighting Lucy from the highchair every day" and "getting a highchair or some place to feed the baby."
Also, I want to mention how his relationship with Lucy has changed for the better over the past months. It's really a story of her relationship with him, and can be boiled down in the observation I'm no longer afraid to leave Thomas alone with her. Certainly he's not alone much at all in the day, but it wasn't long ago that Lucy couldn't be relied upon to treat him with kindness and therefore the times he was alone with her - when, say, I was attending an emergency in the other room with Peter - I'd be nervous that she'd decide to sit on him or carry him around. She's still tempted to, and still tries, but being a sturdy 6-month old is much different from being a floppy 6-week old.
It's been a give-and-take that's sweet to watch. Thomas has warmed up to her and she takes her responsibilities as a big sister seriously.
We've been sharing some very nice early morning moments these past few weeks, when Lucy wakes so very early and comes to see us and we're all awake and giggling and the kids are shrieking at each other in the way children love to do. The room gradually gets lighter and I realize it's finally 6 a.m. I never like to wake early, but it's not as difficult when it's so happy.
Jack's pajama party
"You know what was fun about Jack's party? Two things. One, there were two rooms to play in. Also, they said there would be breakfast but there wasn't."
"What did they have?"
"Cake! I thought they'd have oatmeal, but they had cake!"
There were more than two fun things about cousin Jack's third birthday party in - where else? - New Jersey. In fact, it combined everything atop Lucy's Favorites list: breakfast, pajamas, birthday parties, and soft pretzels. She woke at 5:15 a.m. ready to go to the party.
I love this company. What more do you need?
Our highlights include the fastest inflatable slides ever*, playing with Maelynn, and playing air hockey with some level of proficiency.
Oh, and breakfast. Lucy was - surprise, surprise - the last child eating. She could have eaten for another half-hour if we'd let her.
Now that the spring weather is arriving, we're determined to visit with Jack more. Sure, he lives in New Jersey, but that's about 2,995 miles closer than he did two years ago. As you can see from this photo, he's a busy kid, and I'm sure he can show Peter and Lucy a trick or two.
*Peter's first slide down was a high-spirited co-ride with Lucy, just as they had a few weeks ago at another party at a similar inflatables venue. Unfortunately, that was AGAINST THE RULES and after being reminded of the rules Peter was reprimanded-by-strange-authority sad for twenty minutes. It breaks my heart.
peterpost
photos by Peter; conversation retyped by me
"Lucy, just one nice smile, OK? Smile like this" (offers weak smile).
"Hey there little buddy, hey there buddy boy."
"I want a picture of me and you like you and Daddy do sometimes." (We take an arm-extended self-portrait.) "NO! Not like that. They way you and Daddy do - closer." (What kind of pictures does he think we take, anyway? This one seemed to fit the bill.)
"Take a picture of me and my little buddy. Look up here, Thomas, look at the camera. Smile!"
March 27, 2011
how Kevin (or God) ruined my breakfast
How's that for a catchy title? Apparently, I have some blame to spread.
On Friday we drove back into New Jersey to have breakfast with Uncle Jason, Aunt Jen, Aunt Brey and Maelynn. We'd thought this was our last chance to see our Michigan-bound family and wanted to take advantage while we could.
I suggested the retro-cute Pop Shop because it's really child-friendly. It features baby meals (things like bananas, avocados, and applesauce), toddler-sized meals, and children's-sized meals.
Of course, if your children are like mine, they don't really need children's-sized breakfast meals because breakfast is the best. meal. ever. When Uncle Jason asked Lucy if he should order breakfast or lunch she looked at him as if he'd gone off his meds before answering "BREAKFAST!"
Kevin took a look at the menu, was flooded with jealousy (he with a job and all), and reminded me that we'd be having breakfast on a Friday. In Lent. "You can't have bacon, you know," he said.
He knew this would get me right in the heart (or stomach) because bacon! Come on! That's the point of breakfast, right?* It was a real Lenten sacrifice, possibly my first major one since 2006 since I've either been pregnant or nursing ever since.
The children aren't bound by canon law (yet), so I lived vicariously through their stomachs. Kevin promised to make it up to us sometime soon, possibly on a Saturday.
*That and butter. At one point during our breakfast, Peter was literally buttering up his bacon.
March 25, 2011
spring projects
(1)
Thursday morning I pulled every single book I could find into the children's room. I'd hoped to sort them, organize them, donate some and recycle the truly long-gone ones. Instead, we read for hours while Thomas napped.
I'm still not sure what to do with the books. There are so many, but I can make a case for almost all of them. I tried putting a fraction of their books on their shelves and rotating the selection, but I made the fatal mistake of leaving the rotated-out books in sight (the top shelf of their bookshelf). It took a month before they realized they could ask for those books and then it became a bedtime sport to pick one out. You know, the kind of sport that leaves Kevin completely exasperated, since he's the one reading bedtime stories and needing to explain why I-Spy isn't a good choice for bedtime.
Anyway, that's one of the many spring cleaning projects on my forever-long list. I may tackle it by September at this rate.
(2)
We're talking about spring for our preschool study, and what better way than to study flowers? We talked a little about the parts of the flower and then took them apart. Flower after flower. Never underestimate the permission of destruction to keep a child occupied for ages.
At some point, Peter looked at me and said, "some people call this killing the flower. Or attacking. You can call it attacking, too." It's probably time to address the issues of "killing" and "dying," but I just can bring myself to do it, mostly because I'll muck it up and use too many words and just confuse and scare them.
We also did fun art projects with our flowers, like flower petal prints (hammer flower petals on paper - what fun!) and flower petal paints.
If this had been a pre-baby period, we'd have gathered the petals and used them to make something else, like a potpourri or roll them to make beads. Or about ten other ideas. Really, I have such ideas that it's hard for me to talk myself back down to "look at how much fun they're having when they're just tossing the petals around and they've already learned a little bit so just chill out and let them be."
As it's very much post-baby, we have to let the littlest one participate in his own way. He's very much a grabby six-month-old, so how about the cellophane flower wrap?
it's where the preschoolers hang out
We put our fancy zoo membership to work this week by taking Uncle Jason, Aunt Jen, Aunt Brey, Maelynn AND Grammy to the zoo. (Well, Maelynn was free, and someone had to buy a ticket, and Uncle Jason had to slum it and pretend to be his brother, but still! We got our membership's worth on that day for sure.)
Unfortunately, this wasn't our best zoo effort. I roused a sleeping Lucy at 9:20 and threw her in the car. Once she woke up enough to realize she wasn't in bed any longer, the hilariousness of wearing her pajamas and not wearing shoes and (shh) not brushing her teeth overcame any sleep-transition issues.
Peter especially was excited to show his family around the zoo, making sure to point out his favorites and offering bits of information if he could. He was especially excited to show off the snakes to his herpetology-inclined uncle.
As the children boarded the now-running zoo train, we heard a familiar trio of voices and realized that our friends Anna, Matthew and Sophia were visiting the zoo too. Of course we ran into them at the train - it's where all the cool preschoolers hang out. We followed our friends to the children's zoo where much feeding of animals followed.
We visit the zoo so often that Peter and Lucy have it down to a science. They know what they like to see, what they can skip, and, while open to suggestions, have firm preferences. Visiting with others forces the kids to rearrange their preferred order and - gasp! - skip some of the exhibits they love the most.
In this case, I didn't let the children linger on the computers in the big cats exhibit. Normally we pit-stop there since it's a great place to nurse Thomas and let him enjoy some not-in-arms time. On this trip I swooped them through and there was a fair amount of crankiness about it. Also, it was naptime. Also, they probably were hungry. FYI: it's never good to negotiate with irrational preschoolers who are overtired and have low blood sugar. They're not the best at keeping agreements.
March 21, 2011
sunny Sunday with family
Two trips to New Jersey in one weekend? Yes! We have to take advantage of Jason and Jen's visit while we can. Plus, we were promised a delicious dinner and an hour or so of free babysitting. It's worth the back-to-back bridge tolls.
Family weekends are more about quiet moments and conversation than photos, but here are two that pretty much sum up the day.
Lucy's outfit. She wore this to church, too. You can't see the navy shorts with pink and red stars atop her hot-pink pants, but they really added another dimension to the outfit. Classic.
The men felled a dying tree on the Ross's property. The children and dogs were captivated by the chainsaw. Here, the tree falls, and I'm pretty sure Jason is running with a chainsaw.
I'm not going to lie: we always need a day or two adjustment after a visit to Grammy and Poppy's house. Sunday morning was one of our most difficult in a long while, and it found us essentially evacuating church. (I buckled the kids in the van while Kevin ran back inside after mass to gather our belongings. It was that bad.)
But the next-day tears and crankiness are more than worth it when we see how excited Peter and Lucy (and soon enough, Thomas too) are to visit their grandparents.
party for Aunt Jen's baby
(With all apologies to Uncle Jason, it's always "Aunt Jen's baby" in our house.)
Uncle Jason and Aunt Jen (and their gigantic dogs) have arrived for a week-long visit. Luckily, we're not the hosts. (I mean: oh, darn. No really: luckily. I'm not sure they'd want to wake to our morning symphony of crying children and cranky mama.)
On Saturday we crossed a new bridge (!!) to help celebrate their baby's life with a shower and all sorts of necessities. Our contribution to the pot included a handwash-only sweater (so Jen has something to do with her days, aside from teaching and taking care of the baby) and the sort of baby hat that fits for about a week, or until the first growth spurt. See? Necessities.
There was some minor angst in the days leading up to Aunt Jen's baby shower, mostly from the oldest D-R child who would get angry eyebrows and a firm mouth and say with all seriousness "NO I DON'T WANT YOU TO GO TO AUNT JEN'S BABY'S PARTY."
As you can see, once we arrived at the party it was mostly giggles and sneaking snacks and silly games with cousins.
Oh, and lots and lots of present-opening. Peter and Lucy saw that the presents were about to be opened and plopped themselves front and center, helping unwrap, lift boxes, and otherwise distract Jason and Jen from the business of thanking their gift-givers.
March 18, 2011
time to go home
Lucy took this photo of Peter at the park today. (This and about 70 other similar photos of Peter, to be truthful.)
I said, "I think it's time to go home."
Peter pouted and said, "why?"
I replied, "because you've been lying on the ground for the past five minutes!"
And he had been.
I don't blame him - it was a gorgeous day outside - but the bottom of the curly slide is no place for a nap, beautiful weather or no.
loose screws, new clothes + a play: just another Friday at FDR HQ
After weeks of fitful napping, Thomas finally settled down to a good afternoon nap today. "Good" for these children usually means hitting 60 minutes on the nose, not a second longer. Beggers can't be choosers, and I'll take any peaceful baby/arms free time I have.
I wanted to tackle a few tasks on my ever-long to-do list, including screwing in a few loose screws on our bassinet. We're handing it down to a new little one this weekend and I thought they may appreciate a safe place to put their tiny baby. (I'm assuming their standards for #1 are higher than ours for #3, which fall somewhere between "he's eating a stick? well, OK," and "Lucy, go change your brother's diaper.")
Apparently, Kevin's all-in-one toolbox is a big ol' box o' fun for the preschool set, who took to using all of the tools and occupied themselves for a tantrum-free hour. I was surprised when they began referring to the tools by their proper names - Lucy said, "Mama, get that wrench, it's stuck" - so I think this isn't their first playdate with tools.
We also started going through spring clothes after receiving a huge box of consignment-sale goodies from our personal shopper good friend Carol. There was serious, complete and total joy when Peter and Lucy looked through all of the different clothes. I wish there were a way to bottle up their happiness for times when we could use a little extra, because it was in abundance this afternoon. All for a box of used clothes, too.*
This clothes business is really fun to watch because their budding literacy has really allowed them to understand some of the finer points of clothes. Specifically, sizes. We have a winter of Peter squeezing into a pair of 18 month pajamas to thank for this, but even Lucy's joining in the game now that she knows most of her numbers. (And how did that happen, anyway?)
Unfortunately for the Davis-Ross children, they're on the small side of average, and so Peter's probably a very true 3T bottoms while Lucy can still manage 18 months at times. Alas, the children are well aware of their ages - Peter will tell everyone within earshot he's almost four (and how did that happen, anyway?) - so we spent an afternoon picking up 3T pants, trying them on, and saying, "these must be the biggest 3T pants in the world!"
We must have been in a costume-chaining mood today after watching our first proper play, "Harry the Dirty Dog." It was an hour long and the kids hung with it pretty well, Thomas included. Lucy had a few moments of ants-in-pantsiness but was quick to shout her question to the actors during the Q&A. If you were there, you may have heard her tiny voice call out over the rowdy school children, "How Harry get dirty? And do you have any little sisters?"
*The children are grateful present receivers all the time, especially if the present in question was handmade or a hand-me-down. These alway rank a little higher in their esteem. They'd decided this box of clothes from Miss Carol were actually old clothes from Colin, Quinn and Rhys. Even the girl's clothes. Even the pretty pink raincoat with dainty cats on it.
March 17, 2011
getting our Irish on
The kids have been swapping colds all week, so we've missed out on two different playgroup Saint Patrick's Day parties. Two! To make it up to Peter and Lucy, we hosted our own family Saint Patrick's Day celebration, where their green runny noses were not only welcome but festive, too.
Lucy follows the leprechauns to their secret treasures...
I've said it before and I'll say it again: I love how easy it is to please this age. It takes just an ounce of effort for huge payoffs. Really, the novelty of a little food coloring in your average lunch or dinner is celebration enough, to say nothing of games and art projects and special treats.
We started the morning with a little leprechaun walk to a pile of gold. Hiding inside were a few chocolate coins - not the best way to start the morning, but nothing says "special day!" like chocolate before breakfast.
Later, we made shamrock shakers for singing games, ate a green-orange-and-white lunch, and even whipped up a few "shamrock shakes" for dessert. I'm giving Lucy credit for spotting the gallon of milk by the food processor and opting to take her mint chocolate chip ice cream straight. Peter stuck around for the milkshake and helped me make it green with our fabulously overpriced but possibly worth it natural food colors.
Outside, we threw potatoes around. The goal was to toss the potato in the bucket, but, hey, throwing potatoes is fun, right?
And no Saint Patrick's Day is complete without ridding Ireland of those pesky snakes. In this case, Ireland was our downstairs and the method of choice was a cross from our prayer table. I taped a dozen or so paper snakes on the walls, and Peter and Lucy relished the ability to rip them down, crumple them up, and toss them away.
We must not have done a good job with our eradication since snakes returned for dinner (noodles, dyed green). Also, there probably are a dozen snakes living on our back patio. We'll take those on next week.
March 16, 2011
everything hits at once.
(1) I tore my last contact yesterday morning, which meant that I had to wear my ages-old glasses. I remember when I got them only because I used getting them as a distraction away from studying for my comprehensive exams in 2004. They are super-glued together and scratched so badly that it's like looking out of a foggy window. All day long.
(2) The baby is enduring a trifecta of sleep disruptions: teeth, cold, and pre-crawling jitters. It's driving me insane. (Sure it can be kind of cute, but not at 2 a.m.)
(3) So much television. It's almost as good a remedy for our colds as ibuprofen. (I took Thomas away from the TV after taking this picture, but loved how he looked like a big kid with his brother and sister.)
(4) AND LOOK AT THIS INSANITY. SOMETHING IS LIVING IN OUR CAR. FOR REAL, PEOPLE. (Can you tell I feel strongly about this?) I discovered a newly-chewed hole this morning. On the plus side, all of the children's discarded snacks have been eaten. There were only 13 months of snacks for this critter to dine on. Another plus, I finally have a reason to call Car Talk.
grandpa visits: the farm
Visiting Linvilla was a surprise request from my father, but he said he'd seen so many pictures and just wanted to put all of the pieces together. The children didn't need any encouragement to go, and at the first hint of reasonable weather we bundled up and headed out.
The animals were happy to have visitors after such a long, cold winter. They ate all the food we could throw at them and possibly wanted more. When we arrived it was a regular barnyard chorus of moos, quacks, and cock-a-doodle-doos! Was it always this noisy?
We made our obligatory farm store stop for Kevin's favorite popcorn and treats for the kids. While inside we sampled heavily from the all-you-can-eat citrus bar citrus sampling bar. The kids like grapefruit! but not so much tangelos.
And then to the playground. My camera battery died, but you would have only seen variations on two or three themes: splashing in puddles, walking in the maze, and asking for food. Peter's mastered the fireman's pole - or, should I say, he's mastered his fear of the fireman's pole. I talked him down his first trip of the spring, and when he landed (jubilant grin and all) he said, "I didn't need help, just instructions."
I'm not entirely sure if the farm was the way my dad wanted to spend his last day visiting, but Peter and Lucy loved being out in the spring air, and really, happy kids help make a happy visit.
grandpa visits: the Franklin Institute
Every trip deserves one bad day, right? Well, our trip to the Franklin Institute may have been ours. My father wasn't feeling well (although I don't think he realized how unwell he felt until we arrived at the museum), the museum is geared toward kids much older and bigger than our children, and it was crowded with school-aged kids on field trips.
But hey, Ben Franklin's a cool guy, right? And check out his big statute. (This may have been a highlight of our trip.)
Another trip highlight was a gigantic steam engine. It operated - only three feet, but it was inside and huge! Our train fans enjoyed other train-related activities in this exhibit, like the electromagnet and the design-your-own train. (Lucy's design of the 1,000 electromagnetic commuter rail didn't receive high marks from the judges, but the cheetah design was pretty snappy.)
In a sign of now age-inappropriate the Franklin Institute is, the "young explorers" area is designed for children 5-8, although it was plenty entertaining for our under-4 set. Lucy especially liked a water feature where you could make your own fountain, and Peter could have spent all morning with the air exhibit.
(Thomas just likes to sit, and found this bone bench a nice place to rest.)
I suspect we'll revisit when we're studying outer space again, since the Franklin Institute does have a planetarium, and we get in for free. Then again, just thinking about revisiting makes me a ltitle twitchy.
grandpa visits: the Zoo
The Philadelphia Zoo was a trip request made by everyone and the perfect antidote for the "not-for-children" complaints of our Independence! trip. The day of our visit was a little less than perfect weather-wise, which meant we could enjoy superclose parking and have some quiet encounters with the animals.
A few highlights from our trip: I learned with some interest that one of Peter's favorite animals is the elephant shrew. He was a little disappointed that he couldn't show Grandpa the shrews since they were off exhibit. We made up for it by watching the naked mole rats plop onto their bottoms while navigating their tunnels.
We happily watched the baby orangutan swing and play, and spotted the new baby sifaka lemur, too. For the first time we could recall, the "feed the lions" donation machine was open, and we could add our quarters to help farmers in Kenya protect their livestock from hungry lions. Lucky for us, we were with my father, who's hobby demands a steady supply of quarters. He was all too happy to donate a few for the children's entertainment.
Alas, it's always the poop that the kids remember. Also, we saw a rhinoceros use the bathroom, which was of such awesomeness that it's received airtime both yesterday and today, a full week later.
March 14, 2011
grandpa visits: Independence!
We'd saved a few Philadelphia favorites for when my father came to visit, the chief of which being the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall. So on Tuesday we hopped the train to Center City, walked a few blocks, and found ourselves in the most historic square mile in all of America.
Our first stop was the Liberty Bell. We'd talked about it the night before with the kids and made sure to hit all of the highlights: it's a big bell, it has a big crack, and someone once got angry and hit it with a hammer. Everything else - even the story of how it came to be cracked* - was just over their heads. So: big bell, big crack, big hammer.
Next stop: the Independence Visitor's Center, where the children tried to take down the Philly Phanatic and Peter lamented for the first time that today was "stuff for big people," and not so fun for the preschool set. Note I said first time.
For lunch we took my dad for some cheesesteaks and fries, an appropriate lunch for Fat Tuesday. Lunch quelled some of the mounting under-four angst, but it came back in a fury when Lucy realized I'd eaten her cheesesteak. Much screaming and flailing of limbs and banging trashcans and screaming, "I'M STILL HUNGRY!" followed. I felt pretty terrible because (a) I ate her sandwich and (b) I knew that she'd want it, even though it had been untouched for fifteen minutes.
We let the kids run off their negative energy on the green lawns in front of Independence Hall while my father went to check out a few other nearby historical sites. It was much-needed and much-appreciated. You can see thier silly antics here.
as our park ranger said, this is the most historic room in the most historic building in the most historic square mile in all of America
Finally, it was time for the big show: Independence Hall. We all had tickets - even Thomas - and within minutes of the tour starting, Lucy fell asleep, perhaps an act of self-preservation. Thomas quickly followed suit. Peter was remarkably well-behaved given how over-his-head the presentation was.
Peter's silly face vs. the Declaration of Independence
In an adjoining building we could view original copies of our national documents, including George Washington's copy of the Constitution, but by this time we'd used up all of Peter's patience and headed outside, back to the Visitor's Center, where he could finally eat that $5 fruit cup he'd asked for hours earlier.
*Lucy asked one of the park rangers, "how that bell get cracked?" The ranger gave her a few lines of a completely age-inappropriate story, and she wandered off to commit more mayhem.
grandpa visits: Please Touch Museum
Peter and Lucy were excited to show off the Please Touch Museum to Grandpa, although, truthfully, they were excited just to visit the Please Touch Museum.
The PTM does a wonderful job of creating new experiences for even the most frequent visitor. On our visit, there were several accessibility-related activities in conjunction with a new accessibility exhibit. We met with a puppet who used a wheelchair with light up wheels. Peter and Lucy experienced all three stages of Puppet Encounter: dumbstruck silence; happy giggles; puppet torture. I suspect the puppeteer was a little relieved when we walked away, and I'm not sure if Melita the Puppet's eyes ever will be the same.
And in the program room, the kids could participate in wheelchair art. (You can see them on the Please Touch blog here.) The woman in charge of the art was pretty serious about the project - it was all product, not process for her - but even so Peter and Lucy enjoyed riding in the wheelchair and picking out the paint colors for their wheels.
Also, we discovered for the first time that the old-timey telephones in the Centennial Room actually work. Much shouting of "HELLO PETER!" and "I LOVE YOU LUCY!" could be heard. Ahem. Perhaps I should say, "the old-timey telephones did work, until the poorly-supervised D-R children entered the house."
A few other highlights: a group of day-care kids descended like locusts into one of the playrooms. Peter evacuated, telling me, "those kids in the green shirts are being naughty!" (They were, but moments before Peter and Lucy were ganging up on a little girl with their most fierce poopy-talk.) Also, Lucy figured out how to ride the bicycle just as her brother had at her age. I need to shake my image of her as being tiny and not very coordinated, since she's obviously not either.
grandpa visits: Academy of Natural Science
We were a little disappointed that our first day with Grandpa was rainy and cold and a Sunday, which meant that our indoor choices would be crowded. Then we remembered the Academy, which is never that crowded.
So we went to visit our favorites: the animal dioramas, where Peter still insists the polar bear is helping the bleeding harpoon seal; the live animals, where the white fox remained missing in action; and the upstairs children's museum.
And we made a point to visit the dinosaurs. The kids quickly headed to the dinosaur fossil excavation site and could have dug for hours. I could have dug for hours if not for that pesky rule about no hammering and my almost-four-year-old who was quick to remind me.
No trip with my father is complete without a stop in the gift shop to collect the squashed souvenir pennies, or as those in the know call them, "elongated coins." As this was the first store the children have been inside of in months (the Co-op and IKEA our family exceptions), they went a little nuts picking up toys and touching every single thing, including the $120 microscope that Peter was determined to use, and, in all likelihood, break.
March 10, 2011
look at my new trick!
I'm calling it: he sits!
Thomas sits pretty well on his own, although I was a little nervous today when I put him down on the hard marble floor of the Franklin Institute.
Thomas also wants everyone to know that we've been having so many adventures with Grandpa while he's visiting, and we'll be sure to post all about them soon. But for now, we'll let Grandpa enjoy the office/preschool room/guest room in peace.
March 06, 2011
happy birthday, Poppy
Lucy's small and Maelynn's big, but there's 13 months between them
We drove to New Jersey yesterday to help Poppy celebrate his birthday. It's not polite to talk about ages, but we did teach the kids "When I'm Sixty-Four" for the occasion.
While it was great fun to play with Poppy and Grammy and their bounty of basement toys and secret snacks, what really made the day special was playing with their cousin Maelynn.
Lucy and Peter are really crazy about Maelynn. Luckily, Maelynn's the kind of girl who takes their adoration in stride, although I am very curious about what's happening behind those quiet eyes. I'm assuming it's something along the lines of, "man, are those kids still here?"
The kids helped Poppy blow out his candles and enjoyed some cake. After, Peter noted that he though there would be cookies or cupcakes, but there was cake! and it was good. I'm relieved, because on the drive over Lucy began constructing a list of dessert demands wishes for Grammy and Poppy's house, and cake didn't make the cut.
Peter and Lucy were slightly mystified that Maeylnn was there alone - Aunt Brey and Uncle Sean had taken a ski weekend - and even though we offered repeatedly to leave them behind with Maelynn, Peter and Lucy still came home with us. Maybe next time.
(They did have a good reason: my dad was arriving at our Swarthmore home!)
family puzzle time
Nothing beats a lazy Friday afternoon spent waiting for Daddy to come home to start the Spring Break Weekend like a few puzzles.
Thomas enjoys a puzzle or two, although his experience is more along the lines of, "I can pick stuff up!" and "I can jam this in my mouth!"
Lucy's coming along to puzzles. She has a sense that the chunky and peg puzzles are too easy, but she just can't manage proper jigsaw puzzles. Peter picked this talking ABC puzzle out for her at the store, which is just taxing enough to provide a fun challenge.
And Peter could do puzzles all day, especially if someone's seated beside him. He doesn't need the help so much as the companionship, and these days he has two siblings to provide it.
tiny trike terrors
Swarthmore is a small town in the best way possible. I didn't quite realize just how "small town" it is until I seriously considered picking up a random man walking downtown, umbrella-less, during a huge thunderstorm this summer.
So it's little surprise to me that two very helpful hairdressers came running out of their corner beauty shop to scream, "who's child is that?" and "does she have a mother?" when Lucy decided to motor her own little self across the street on her tricycle.
Their fears were slightly exaggerated, but certainly Lucy should not have been crossing the street on her own. Peter had been dawdling, looking at new flower shoots, and I'd tried to bridge the distance between the two of them while wearing 16 pounds of squirming baby.
Further evidence of the borough's small-town feel, I had no fewer than three people come up to me at the Co-op moments after the Street Incident to let me know they'd seen the whole thing. There goes my notion that no one's ever really paying attention to me. I suppose dragging three young, loud, and flamboyant children around does draw attention.
March 03, 2011
yo-yo weather (or: is that a dragon on a bike?)
We've had typical almost-spring weather of late. A few days will be pleasantly warm and sunny and then kabam! it's 30 degrees again. I've made my peace with the yo-yo temperatures since I'm almost guaranteed that it won't snow again and it probably won't dip into the teens, but for the kids it's been a bit more difficult.
We've had so many discussions about what constitutes appropriate outdoor clothing and have had some well-intentioned but ill-tempered* negotiations about outer wear, along the veins of, "I'll wear a jacket and no hat or a hat and no jacket or no hat and no jacket BUT NOT BOTH."
Today, the theme was more along the lines of, "I'll wear my Halloween costume with my hood up," which is a great compromise since these things are fleece and stuffed and crazy warm.
(And the baby...he wakes.)
*Take as a pun or literally. Or both.
March 01, 2011
a new day, a new costume
The Davis-Ross children share an appreciation for the finer things in life - scatological humor, out-of-season fruit, and the art of dressing well. When dressed simply from their dresser they often look silly, but when supplemented with a few choice items from their dress-up box, the result can be hilarious.
Hickety Lucy, our black hen
Today's look was inspired by our nursery rhyme unit. I told them to dress in black and we played Hickety Pickety. Peter's wardrobe suffers from a black deficit, but he didn't seem to really notice he'd picked all navy. I noticed he looked about 12 running around with his hooded sweatshirt that he zipped up himself.
They started simultaneous soliloquies about something or another - big bad wolves or the birth day of Cuddle Bear - and I realized they looked completely ridiculous. I told Peter he looked ready to drop some beats and Lucy that she looked ready for a heist. They looked at me like I was crazy, which is pretty much par for the course around here. They're not even teenagers yet.
Getting dressed up in some costume or another is an integral part of their pretend play. We seem to be in an endless loop of getting ready to go somewhere. The "somewhere" changes, but it's often the chicken store, by which I mean a restaurant where the children order things like broccoli and spinach and all other healthy-sounding things.
For the past few weeks, the chicken store has been either our refrigerator or dryer, which means all of the stuff of their play - strollers with stuffed animals and dolls, bags filled with what I'm assuming are the necessities (usually trains and pretend food and Schleich animals and playsilks), and more often than not all four of their small chairs plus their doll highchair - get left in the kitchen. It pretty much drives me crazy, and I have, on more than one occasion, thrown their small chairs in our coat closet so they couldn't barricade my kitchen with their stuff.
Lucy's also been playing these very extended, very exasperating games of assumed identities. She'll decide she's someone - usually one of her cousins - and we're all members of that family. Woe to the person who slips and calls her "Lucy." I'm pretty sure I've heard the phrase, "no, I'm Maelynn," about 10,000 times this week.
My least favorite pretend play game is the baby game, in which Lucy decides, "I'm Baby Lucy," and proceeds to act like a baby. It's all fun and cute when it's just crawling on the floor or asking for milky, but the fake crying. Oh, the fake crying. As if I don't hear enough crying in the day, she'll add her own particularly grating toddler take on a baby's cry. I'm sure I've stifled her creativity for the rest of her life, but today I told her that I refused to play Baby Lucy. Period. I try to be a good mother, but my God I have limits.
In other news today, it was somewhat warm and sunny and the real baby enjoyed being outside, runny nose and all.
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And Gee Gee sent the kiddos each their own letter, with her own special art project, with the kids' names. There was some Beyond Excitement moments when Peter and Lucy spied their own names on the envelopes and then on their cards, and Peter noticed that Gee Gee had made the cards just for them, "because she wants us to be happy and know she loves us."
