Tuesday, March 20, 2007

C's science fair project- a maglev train! Thanks to Ye-ye, C got to make a really cool project using technology he "invented" when he was three. A lot of people at the fair were enthralled by it.

C had fun checking out the other kids' projects at the fair, but it was so crowded and overwhelming that he left early with Dan and A. That left me to stay 'til the end to bring his project home. Carrying everything back on the frigid snowy sidewalks, for which I was not appropriately dressed (because y'know- we DROVE there), was a bit tricky, but the view of the moon and stars made it almost worthwhile.

Monday, March 19, 2007

Report Cards and it's almost Spring (really?)

Well, C's report card came today. As the teacher had hinted on the phone earlier, it was very positive (only 3's and 4's--1-4 scale, and S's and E's) and they only had warm fuzzy things to say about him. Not that he doesn't deserve the highest marks for his academic achievements (though I suspect he'll be getting some N's for his handwriting neatness in the not-so-distant future, like I did in elementary school).

But it is interesting that they haven't noticed that he gave up doing homework for Lent. Well, actually it's been since some point in January that he hasn't done ANY homework. Most weeks he gets a packet with four assignments for M-Th, that consist of practicing writing spelling words and "word family" words, a math worksheet or two, and some other worksheet. He originally went on strike about the spelling words (he hated writing them each three times, then sentences), and since Sarah had just read--and I skimmed and made her summarize--Alfie Kohn's masterful The Homework Myth: Why Our Kids Get Too Much of a Bad Thing, we couldn't really see a good reason to force him to into it, or any of the other homework when he decided to just start recycling the whole packet each week.

Especially in elementary school, the idea that kids who are doing fine in school need to routinely do homework nearly nightly seems ridiculous, especially after reading Kohn's research and arguments. I can see why an occasional special project can't be done on class time, or why students who are really struggling to learn the basic concepts might need extra guidance or tutoring at home, but not C at this point, not this year. As most of you know we already have a fairly tenuous attitude towards public school (we plan to take it year by year, and reserve the plan to pull him out for homeschooling at any point it seems like the costs are outweighing the benefits), so it will be interesting to see what happens when at some point his teachers start keeping track of who is doing homework (assuming they care more than we do). Right now the students are responsible for putting their homework in the bin to be corrected, and then it gets put back in their mailboxes upon checking, and the students empty their own mailboxes into their folders to bring home.

In other news, we enjoyed hosting our monthly potluck on Friday. While it had been warm and melty and spring was springing a couple days before, Friday looked a lot like this instead. Four families still ventured out, and we had fun helping shovel and push cars afterwards to get them back home again. The weekend ended up offering up two more potlucks, so we now have a new record of 3 evening potlucks in a row, with essentially the same crowd... Reminds me of the mealshare situation we liked so much when we lived in Seattle, and had shared meals 6 nights per week.

I'll be going to Maine for a mentoring conference this weekend for work. Too bad the accommodations are so crummy :). It does mean a lot of driving, though...

C has his school science fair tomorrow night. We should have pictures/tales to share from that soon.

Enjoy the Spring Equinox tomorrow. The birds here are doing their best to pretend that the snow doesn't exist. Maybe it won't continue to for much longer.

peace,
Dan

Tuesday, March 06, 2007


I told A about these extra-fun special paints that are specially designed for using with your hands, and she seemed receptive. So I broke out the fingerpaints (I even had the cool fingerpaint paper), squirted some paint on, and started spreading it around with my fingers. She looked at me like I was insane- touching that MESSY stuff with my HANDS? Voluntarily? I coaxed her into leaning closer, and encouraged her to just touch it, for a second, with one finger, but she would have none of it. Finally I gave up and gave her a brush and a new piece of paper, and she was much happier. A tiny bit of paint did get on her hand from the brush, though, and even though she gamely recited, "these are special paints that are designed for getting on hands, so it's okay," she couldn't get past the horror and needed to stop to wash.
I suspect she'd be more likely to engage in actual fingerpainting if C joined in, but the flail-fest that ensues whenever Everything-Is-Mine Boy does anything around other children that involves any sort of equipment/ materials makes me hesitate to pull them out when he's home. Maybe when it's warm enough to do it outside and hose everyone down afterwards....

A's story

Once upon a time there was a cat and she went for a walk with her brother and her daddy and her mommy. And they went to the park and they had some snacks. And they said meow.

Sunday, March 04, 2007

lunar eclipse cake


what kids create...part 2


what kids create on their own when they don't watch tv, part 1


little people bridge, brother built


conversations

A: I fell down. I fell down. I fell down. I fell down.
C: If you're going to fall, don't do it right in front of me because you get in my way.

C: W-X-Y-Z.
A: W-X-Y-C.
C: No, it's Z. W-X-Y-Z.
A: W-X-Y-C.
C: No, Alyra! It's Z! You have to learn the alphabet!
A: But I don't want to actually!

S: Firefly is The A-Team in space. With a western theme. And a whore.
D: Which would have made The A-Team even better.
S: They had a van, after all.

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

A: I don't want to drive on the wooden road!
S: The road is not made out of wood, it's just CALLED Woodin Road.
A: It is not made out of wood, it's just CALLED Woodin Road.
S: Yes.
A: The other road is called the plastic road.

Saturday, February 24, 2007

game night!

We set out to find and play games all FOUR of us could enjoy together tonight, and brought down Turtle Picnic, a 24-piece puzzle, and an Uno-type game with cartoonish pictures of animals. Things started off fairly well with Turtle Picnic; while A needed to be pulled out of our box o' blocks and reminded what to do each time it was her turn, she understood the concept and indeed beat Dan twice.

Then we broke out the puzzle. A picked up a piece and C screamed, "that was my piece!" and spent the next ten minutes sobbing about how he was Just About To pick that piece up. All the parenting books claim that when you reflect back what your children say and functionally commiserate with them, they will feel heard and get over their issue more quickly. They lie. We specified rules for shared puzzle-doing (all pieces are fair game unless you're holding them; you may not hold more than two pieces at a time) and moved on.

And then the Uno game. We knew A couldn't do Uno on her own, so she was on Dan's team, which lasted about three rounds before she tried to snatch all the discards. We let her have them, but then the picture of the "sister monkey" disturbed her so badly that she refused to play anymore and wanted to do the puzzle again. We tried to do both simultaneously, but since she pulled all the puzzle pieces as far away as she possibly could get from that evil monkey card, pushing half of them under the rug in the process, it was difficult. That was when we realized it was time for bed.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

All four of us went to the state museum today, and Dan's presence enabled A to ride the escalators AND the carousel with only small amounts of whimpering. But on the ride home, the kids reached new levels of complaintfulness. They both find it fun to whine in unison when we're in the car, and this time they started out by begging for ice cream (mind you, A has never HAD ice cream) before progressing to "the sun is in my eyes!" (despite sunglasses) and "I don't want you to sing that song!" which are all part of their Greatest Hits collection. But then, after a few moments of silence, A pouted, "My thumb is always sticking out!" And C joined in. Yes, both of my children complained of the evolution of opposable thumbs today.

Monday, February 19, 2007

Due to Dan's concerns of an impending escape attempt, we replaced A's maple crib with a pink plastic bear-shaped toddler bed. Except for the unfortunate effect on our decor, it has been a success- her sleep pattern has not changed and she still hasn't quite realized that she could get out of her bed when she's not supposed to. Thanks for the hand-me-down, Rowan!

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

lands end snow eaters


sledding in the blizzard



We don't normally have good hills on our street for sledding, but luckily the plow made some for Cadao today...

our boy is cool...


be my pizza valentine


Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Every few years, I stumble upon an issue of Ms. magazine and leaf through it. And every single time, I’m always disappointed.

This time, I didn’t have the opportunity to roll my eyes at the cover, because I’m reading an outdated and unsold discard (which also means it’s too late to write a letter to the editor that could potentially be published). My disgust begins instead on the very first page of content. A line graph that is intended to illustrate that women are not "pushing men out of college" was apparently inserted by someone who SHOULD have pushed for a better education, because it graphs enrollment in numbers rather than in percentage of the population. This is ambiguous because it does not in fact "prove" that men’s university attendance is not declining, since the percentage of college-aged men attending could indeed be falling even as numbers increase (because of population changes).

Just below, a bar graph compares the salaries of men and women, but does not control for important variables such as years in the workforce. This grossly exaggerates the differences to reach the expected conclusion.

What irks me the most about these graphs is that I suspect their conclusions are correct; I have read carefully-controlled studies of salary differentials and a real wage gap does exist. But putting these meaningless statistics out there weakens the message because to those of us who pay attention (and don’t think "math is hard" as the editors of Ms. apparently do), it looks like they’re trying to trick us with improperly-applied data. It makes doubters assume that the conclusions are false, because if they were true, why wouldn’t they prove them to us, instead of distracting us with truly pointless graphics?

On the next two pages is an article on NOW’s 40th anniversary, which lists all of the nice things NOW has done for our country. I didn’t read it closely because I find such articles boring. I find at least one such retrospective in every issue of Ms. that I read, and while that may just be chance and they’re really not in EVERY issue, I still don’t understand what purpose they serve. Perhaps in an attempt to justify itself, the article concludes: "Numerous battles have been won, but skirmishes for women’s rights always lie ahead. We still need NOW, as much as ever." Which sounds so much like the pat conclusions I used to finish all my essays in high school that I’m tempted to run out and buy an issue of Playboy because the writing is so much better.

Next up is a report on a woman suing a doctor for refusing to perform artificial insemination because of the doctor’s religious objections to homosexuality. The problem is, the reporter is (intentionally?) not clear whether the entire medical PRACTICE refused care, or if the doctor basically said, "I need to step down as your primary provider, but Hal in the next room can work with you." It is apparently too much to expect clear writing and reporting from a national magazine.

On the next page we learn that, thank God, "Michelle Selden won’t have to practice changing diapers any time soon." The item is about ending a school’s sex-segregated curriculum, which I’m all for (in part because the boys’ curriculum apparently focused on "pursuing and killing prey," which I feel they need rescuing from much more than the girls do from their classes). What I object to is the writer’s clear relief that Selden be spared the indignity of a class related to child care. The article points out that Selden is a certified scuba diver, firefighter cadet, and kung fu purple belt, apparently to imply that such a demeaning activity is completely inappropriate for her. In New York, both boys and girls are required to take home economics and shop. Given the tone of this article, I’m surprised there hasn’t been a huge outcry about the Board of Regents’ audacity in assuming everyone wouldn’t be hiring nannies to do all that stuff.

Later is an item addressing a Chinese bill to criminalize sex-selective abortions, which is an interesting turnaround given Ms.’s stance (articulated for the next EIGHT pages) that abortions should be freely available to all without social stigma.

Buried in the back with the book reviews (where the NOW article belonged), there is one fascinating article about how wage differentials can arise because women rarely negotiate salary during the initial hiring process or annual reviews. While my post-college work experience is pretty limited, it never actually occurred to me to negotiate my salary or raises- I always took what was offered. Whether this is actually "discrimination" as the headline claims is an interesting philosophical question.

Ms. is clearly not aiming for my demographic, though precisely WHAT demographic would find the magazine appealing is not clear. (Advertisers may feel the same way- while Ms. clearly accepts advertising now, there’s not much of it, and I doubt that the publishers consciously chose to limit it.) Are there any feminist magazines that include real reporting (unlike Bitch or Bust), good writing, and articles that don’t rehash the same topics endlessly?

Perhaps I should start my own. Because I’d want it to be really deep, the first issue would include a discussion of Maureen Dowd’s book jacket photo. I glanced at it when I was reading her book and did a double-take. I THOUGHT the book had implied that she graduated from college before I was born, but there was no possible way this woman could be more than ten years older than me.

Google Images soon provided me with a different picture, and I saw that while Dowd is indeed attractive, the book jacket’s photographer is also quite skilled at taking flattering shots. I thought black thoughts about the beauty culture we live in, about Dowd and/ or her publisher who chose the photo which really doesn’t look like her, and about my own insecurities which I suspect are part of the reason why I even noticed the photo in the first place. I thought kinder thoughts, realizing that if my image were going out to thousands of people, I’d want the most flattering picture possible, even if it- nay, BECAUSE it- conformed to the American standard of beauty, despite my disdain for it. How to fight the idea that women should all be young and thin and well-groomed when we all want to be?

Saturday, January 20, 2007

why we stopped watching Smallville

D: The jock is going to fall through the ice.
S: There's going to be kryptonite in the pond, and he's going to turn into some kind of water or ice monster.
D: He's going to go around wreaking havoc, and hook up with Lana, and Clark is going to find out, and they're going to get in a fight.
S: There will be kryptonite nearby during the fight so Clark will be useless until they go somewhere else to finish the fight. And Clark is going to stand up Lana because he was incapacitated.
D: No point in watching the rest, right?

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

In the past three days, we have live-trapped and released (far away) five mice. And these are just the ones stupid enough to get trapped in out kitchen. Any estimates of the size of the entire colony we're hosting here?

Friday, January 05, 2007


Making gingerbread houses proved harder without those little milk cartons the library program uses every year... though C still enjoyed making and eating (the heavily laden path so far). Posted by Picasa


C gave A's "Scout" doll temporary hair for her to comb, when she wanted to be like her brother who, uncharacteristically, decided to comb his doll's hair.... (A was disturbed by the alteration, unfortunately, and returned the doll to her "natural" bald state...) Posted by Picasa

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

We're so far behind the times that everyone else on earth has probably already seen these movies, but for those who have not: do not waste your time watching either the new Charlie and the Chocolate Factory or Star Wars Episode III movies. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory did not add anything terribly interesting to the old one despite its special effects potential, and instead of portraying Willy Wonka as a brilliant crazed misanthrope, Johnny Depp made him creepily Michael Jackson-esque. Star Wars was less than riveting, given that we all KNOW how it ends, and the only question it solved can be handily summed up in one sentence.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Dan returns from Peter Harris Clothes with more than the rarely-seen-in-his-size Levi's that were his goal.

S: You can not wear this shirt.
D: I haven't tried it on yet, and it's brown, so it goes with the autumn color palette I've been going for. Reds, yellows, oranges- well, except for the yellows.
S: You can only wear it if you've decided to be a "hipster" and wear it with irony. Ronald Reagan would have worn that shirt.
D: You can't tell without seeing it on. Begins to try on shirt.
A: Daddy you need to get a shirt on! You need a shirt on! Right now!
D: Wow, you're right! This would be awesome with a black-and-white checked jacket and ripped jeans! I can't return this; I should sell it!
C: Yeah! We'll sell it! We'll go back to Peter Harris and buy them all and open a store and sell them and make lots of money!

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Even if you're not left behind, don't lose touch with those who were.

I picked the very last strawberry from the garden today, from a very hardy plant that succumbed to the cold just last night. My fall gardening failed completely this year, as some appreciative animal ate all my parsley and spinach the very day we pulled out the cold frame, but we have high hopes for an early start in the spring.

A is pretty cheery today after three days of illness-induced misery, but Dan and I remain very groggy. She tried to cheer me up, though. While I was eating lunch:

A: "We saw the moon when we went on walksies. Daddy told me about the moon. It was a waxing gibbous. It peeked out from the clouds."

S: "Do you want to see if we can find the moon before bedtime tonight? We can't see the moon right now."

A: "The moon is sleeping right now. The moon is sleeping in its moon-bed."

Saturday, November 25, 2006


C's inspiration Posted by Picasa


Note the bow and arrow Posted by Picasa

So let's say you're six years old and you wake up at 5:45 in the morning, but know that your parents want to sleep in until 8. What do you do? Well, if you're C, you'll page through a craft book to get ideas, gather the materials to construct your selection, and add accessories you deem appropriate. Then you'll pour some cereal for your father and wake him up at 7:59.


glazing with egg white, which helped them brown Posted by Picasa


Fresh from the oven Posted by Picasa


completed cornucopia Posted by Picasa

cornucopias!

Cadao really really wanted to make our OWN, EDIBLE cornucopias so we decided to give it a try. Dan cut a batch of pizza dough into strips, and we wrapped them around forms made from mixing bowls and aluminum foil. They came out surprisingly well, and tasty to boot.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Buy your daughter a Brothelmobile this Christmas! For hours of imaginative play.

Saturday, November 18, 2006

New- Puffs with Magic! (?)

Sunday, November 12, 2006


A is 2 today!! Posted by Picasa


birthday cake Posted by Picasa


Posted by Picasa

Saturday, November 11, 2006

For A's birthday, I figured I'd make some clothes for My Little Abused Orphan so I wouldn't have to look at the old ones. The catch: I wanted A to be able to get them on and off herself, an I only wanted to spend an hour from start to finish. So the poor doll ended up with what amounts to a hospital gown (perhaps the ER let her wear it home from her last stay) and a poncho. The fitting unearthed another reportable offense- she has a heart tattoo on her arm, which had an armband glued on top of it. Pictures will follow.

Friday, November 10, 2006

problems with C's school

1) They play the same game in gym class every time they have it (twice a week).
2) They watch videos for library time every week.
3) His teacher has begun reading Magic Treehouse books out loud instead of the actual literature they started out the year with. These books are popular with the kids, but the writing is awful. I'm wondering if she's trying to fulfill the somewhat insane curriculum requirements by calling them "social studies," too, since they include history lessons which seem to have the same degree of inaccuracy as most elementary school history texts. I hope she comes to her senses soon.
4) C's bored silly of single-digit addition worksheets.
5) For "Veterinarians' Day," they told the kids that we fought wars to protect our country. Methinks that's stretching the truth bit considering the past 60 years....

Saturday, November 04, 2006

It turns out that A's new doll must be of the "My Little Abused Orphan" line. The hideous pink headband was covering up two faint pink bruises on the baby's head, and it has a battery-operated implant that makes it not only cry continuously, but makes its cheeks glow red. Now I REALLY won't be able to sleep at night.

Every November, the church around the corner from us has an enormous tag sale fundraiser. This year, in addition to (our third) replacement bread machine, a sled, and a shelf for under the computer desk, A spied a baby doll. A hideous baby doll. A baby doll with permanently-attached pink polyester clothing, with a plastic head and plastic feet. Dan let her buy it, but it's so disturbing I'm not sure if I'll be able to sleep at night with it in the house.

Friday, November 03, 2006

Dan got a new guitar today. :)

Tuesday, October 31, 2006


Happy Halloween from planet zork... Posted by Picasa

Sunday, October 29, 2006


A likes shoes...(and pretzels) Posted by Picasa


C had a great "hunt" waiting for me when I got back home from Seattle on Tuesday night; "Xs" marked the spot where each clue was hidden, of course--one was even sealed in clear plastic outside, and the clue was in a yogurt container and buried under it... the prize at the end was the bracelet shown here. Posted by Picasa


we went to a halloween party at friends' on Sat. night... "woods spirits" Posted by Picasa


Boo! (and scary face)... C's pumpkin Posted by Picasa

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Every city should have a puppet lending library.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

I got a book from the library titled Organizing from the inside out : the foolproof system for organizing your home, your office, and your life. Slipped inside it were five pages of notes someone diligently transcribed from the book. But given that the notes never LEFT the book before it was returned to the library, methinks that the previous borrower missed seeing the bigger picture....

Saturday, September 16, 2006

what are we in for with teenagers?

At 7 a.m. this morning, C hopped out of bed, popped in a rap CD, turned it up loud enough that we could hear every word in OUR bedroom, and started dancing.

Friday, September 15, 2006


We start 'em working young around here! (A is just finishing her silverware putting away job in this photo. She gets the chair out, opens the drawers, puts all the silverware in the correct slots, and puts everything back all by herself... not bad for 22 months!) Posted by Picasa

Thursday, September 14, 2006

storyteller

Her brother's modeling has apparently inspired A to tell stories already. We were in the car and she said, "Once upon a time there was girl who lived on a hill." I suspected that she wasn't going to tell the same story as ZZ Top sang about the girl on the hill, but she started mumbling so I couldn't catch how she elaborated on the plot. Luckily, a few minutes later she started another. "Once upon a time there lived a tomato who lived... someplace else." I REALLY wanted to know what happened next this time, but she got distracted by a passing truck and didn't continue. It'll be interesting to hear what kinds of stories the two of them come up with together....

Thursday, September 07, 2006


Returning home from his first day! (remember to click on photos to enlarge) Posted by Picasa

C does time

Well, our little boy spent 7 straight hours in the public school system today for the first time in his life (about 1.5 hours of which was on the bus...though that will lessen somewhat as the drivers and kids get used to the schedule). Very fortunately, he was smiling when he came home, and said he had a great time.

And while they "learned a lot of rules" at gym on the first day instead of playing or running around much (hmm.... a bunch of first graders in full-day school for the first time; what shall we do with them in gym class, play active games to help ease their stress and get their energy out, help them have fun, or make sure those all important rules are lectured first thing?), his classroom teacher, Mrs. Woller, is by all acounts so far a fortunate pick (there are 3 first grade classes at Elsmere, he seems to have gotten "the best" teacher according to reputation; she's supposed to be kind, gentle, and very inspired). She also has an almost full time volunteer in the classroom, a retired kindergarten teacher, so it makes the ratio to 24 students much better!

To her credit, C said they went outside 3 times today to the playground (it was a beautiful late summer day), and even though he chose not to eat his lunch at all for some reason, just some high-protein pretzels and a few grapes between 8 a.m. and 3:50 p.m. when he got home, he seems to have done fine in general today. He made up for lost time in eating a snack, the traditional first day of school walk to Stewarts for ice cream cones, and 3 helpings of dinner...

With luck, he'll continue to be happy, make friends, and manage not to lose much of his creativity throughout his public school career...

-Dan


On the way to his first day of 1st grade! Posted by Picasa

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

C's new favorite song

C has not yet fully explored all the CDs I gave him for his birthday, so it was not until this week he discovered this song. He loves it so much that I was trying to come up with other songs that reference money for him, but I deemed the obvious Pink Floyd and Dire Straits picks marginally inappropriate due to language. This one has subject matter issues, alas.

the name game

A enjoys the name game so much that she believes it is only common courtesy to say "thank you bo-bank you" and "welcome bo-belcome."

Friday, August 18, 2006

A's poem

Based on the view from our deck, A composed and recited this to herself over and over:

Crescent moon
Blue sky
Green trees

She's having a lot of fun with language. From the time she could talk, she intentionally played with words, and made up rhyming words, like "Paco-maco-paco-pie." She continues to make up words to rhyme with many of the things we say, and clearly sees it as a fun game. She can insert her own words in the name game correctly (more fluently than her father, I suspect).

Tuesday, August 15, 2006


caught getting along :) Posted by Picasa


summertime... Posted by Picasa

telling time

Since we grew sick of C's constant questions about when things are going to happen, how long until this or that, and his requests to warn him 30, 15, and 5 minutes before bedtime, we've been teaching him to tell time. He's had the general gist of it for several months now, but in the past two weeks something clicked and he can tell time fluently. In addition to knowing the current time, he can calculate how many minutes to the next hour, etc. in his head. While very exciting, we're a bit perturbed- without secretly changing all the clocks in the house, we can no longer send him to bed early without his knowledge.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

book review

"We Help Daddy," by Mini Stein, is a Little Golden book from 1962. While caring for Benjy and Sue, who are about 4 and almost-2 respectively, Daddy is able to get more done than Dan and I could in a month of Saturdays. He fixes the attic door, weeds and waters the garden, trims the hedge, bathes the dog, paints the kitchen fence, and hangs a painting in the living room. Calculating best-case-scenarios for the times these things would take, and assuming that Benjy and Sue are able to manage all of their own physical needs without interrupting Daddy (even though Sue is pre-verbal), I can envision how all this MIGHT get done. But then they decide to build a birdhouse, collect and chop firewood, wash and polish the car, replace a knob on Benjy's dresser, and pull a nail out of the bathroom door. Finally, the poor kids get to eat supper, after which "we are very, very sleepy" (no doubt!) and they go to bed.

Based on my frustration with our task-completion time, Dan is convinced that I must have had this book as a child. I don't have any memory of it, but Pa Ingalls was pretty darn productive too, so perhaps my expectations are too high. Or have they sunk too low? We've needed to replace the knobs on A's dresser for about a month now; our garden is somewhat less of a Darwinian experiment than in past years, but it still doesn't look like our neighbors'; we're lucky if we get the kids bathed before they start to stink, much less the dog; and we've never built anything without having to re-cut at least one piece of wood that didn't fit the first time. We suspect, however, that Benjy and Sue's Daddy spent the last three months drunk every weekend, and Mommy has threatened to leave him if he doesn't take the kids and get this list done so she can bake cookies (we see her cheerily rolling out dough through the window in one scene) and make dinner in peace.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

trip to the museum

C's spending the week at Camp Oma and Opa, which (along with the heat wave) made the idea of a trip to the (air-conditioned) state museum somewhat more enticing because his need to discuss the attributes of every model of fire truck used since 1850 wouldn't be hampered by A's need to "walk by self, walk by self, walking, walking, walking." Perhaps, though, if he had been there, she would not have inexplicably screamed in terror when we walked in the door (maybe the mastadont skeleton got her down?) and remain frantic until I begrudging took her to the mind-numbingly-boring "Discovery Place," designed for little kids who have no toys at home, and read her a book. After that she perked up and spent aeons (or did it just feel that way?) dropping plastic fruit down plastic tubes until, not surprisingly, she got hungry.

The only place we're allowed to eat in the museum is in the cafe, which is on the fourth floor; while there presumably are staircases to reach it, I don't know where they are, so we were limited to escalators and elevators. I knew she hated elevators, so we took the escalator; or perhaps I should say escalatorS, because they are set up so each run stops midway between floors and you need to turn around to get the the next set, just as stairwells are often designed in public buildings. This meant that there were actually six escalators between us and the cafe, and by number two she was starting panic. When we finally reached our floor (after all of about 30 seconds), I caved into her demands and let her know that we would NOT go back down on the escalators, which she repeated the entire time she ate her snack. The carousel distracted her briefly- not that she would RIDE it of course, but she enjoyed watching it go around and around and around and around and why didn't I bring a book? and around and....

Finally she tired of the carousel, which meant, of course, we needed to return to the first floor. She liked the elevator about as much as the escalator. It must have been a horrid 20 seconds for her, because the whole REST of the time we were at the museum I heard nothing but "no more escalator. No more elevator. All done escalator elevator. Bye bye escalator elevator." This may have been annoying enough as mere background noise, but she generally demands confirmation following her every utterance so I needed to drone "that's right; no more elevators or escalators" continuously as well. Plus, in order to overcome the trauma of the experience, we had to go back to Discovery Place, and I had to hand her the orange to drop down the tube about 50 times, and occasionally vary my response to "that's right, the cabbage doesn't fit down the tube" when appropriate.

It was nearing naptime (well, not really, but I had to factor in the mile-long walk to the car since I'm too cheap to pay for parking, and the inevitability of being stuck behind a bus on the way home) so I said, "We need to leave in 10 minutes." She stops (holding asparagus and an apple), frowns, and says "Stay 15 minutes" before returning to her task. Luckily she can't tell time, because we were outta there in 5.