Memorial day in Philadelphia

Margaret was excited all last week about our pending trip to Philadelphia to see the cousins. Whenever she would start to fuss (which was often), I would change the topic by asking where we were going this weekend. "Baseball game?," she would reply, reflecting our recent trip to the Cubs game. When that was shot down, she would say "Birthday party?" A natural response given the many birthday parties that she's attended lately (it's an interesting coincidence, especially to a two-year-old, that many kids in the toddler room all turn two at around the same time.) No, not a birthday party. We're going to.... Phila... "delphia!!!" Margaret would yell. Eventually, she could put the whole phrase together - Philadelphia! - but not with any consistency.

On our trip, we...

...did attend a birthday party (for Andrew) at a Benihana-type Chinese restaurant

...rode on a train

...chased Andrew around and reveled in his dancing

...saw a fire truck up close

...ate lots of bagels

and generally had a great time. Teddy, for all of his sleeping problems, also had lots of fun scooting around the floor of the relatives' living room. We've decided that he shows a tendency to look for trouble that Margaret didn't display. More on that later.

A lovely spring Saturday in DC

Today was an amazing spring day here in DC. One of those days where you just want to lay down in the green grass, close your eyes and drift away. . .

Except that you've got two kids, one of whom wants to run into the street while the other is trying to put that lovely green grass (it has rained a lot here lately) in his mouth.

We had a fun day bopping around various places in DC. Our day started with a trip to the river to watch the dragon boats that were supposed to be racing on the Potomac. Not a dragon boat in sight when we arrived since it appears that the event has been rescheduled since the river is running too high (again, a lot of rain).

After meandering down the riverside, we headed up to the annual Greek Festival, an event that we stumbled on a few years ago and found to be fun. Our review this year: No so fun. The lines were too long and the food was too expensive ($9 for a gyro?!?!). And the crowd wasn't as raucous as we remembered, likely because the festival had its beer and wine license revoked after too many raucous festival-goers attended in the past.

The festival was held on Massachusetts Ave. up by the National Cathedral, about 15 blocks north of our house. We decided that we might as well stop by the Cathedral since we were in the neighborhood. The National Cathedral is the only hardcore gothic cathedral that's been built in, ummmm, the last millenium? Hurrah U.S.A., way to show some imagination and creativity!

This was our second visit to the National Cathedral in as many weeks. Last week, we went to watch some crazy Swiss guy project images on the Cathedral (see here or here). The concept was pretty cool, but the kids weren't able to wait until it's completely dark to see lights on the Cathedral. Instead, Teddy conked out pretty early while Margaret fell asleep just as the show started. She did, however, enjoy the musical shows that preceeded the lights: after watching the Silk Road Dance Company, Margaret twirled and waved her hands.

Today, we wandered through the Cathedral. And it was, I have to admit, pretty cool. You got the same sense of size and grandeur that you get in European cathedrals and, just as in other churches, you chase your daughter around trying to shush her. But the best part involved wandering the grounds around the Cathedral. We kept discovering spots that were incredibly peaceful and uncrowded. Such as a little garden behind the Cathedral where we perched in chairs for a while and a sublime greenhouse that was right out of a Martha Stewart magazine.

We ended up in another garden where we all sprawled on the grass and doodled in our own particular ways: Teddy trying to eat grass, Margaret munching on Teddie's finger foods, Papa trying to get some good pictures, and Mama trying (mostly without success) to get Margaret and/or Teddy to pose for Papa's pictures. In the end, as I told Abby, it was a worthwhile way to spend the day. I've been to the Cathedral before, but haven't really explored it. And when I read some of the comments in the Cathedral's guest book (e.g., "A lifelong dream to visit"), I realized that, having travelled only 15 or so blocks to get there, we're pretty darn lucky. And spoiled.

Nothing important to report, but here it is...

A few days ago, for no particular reason, Teddy ended up being put in his crib in Margaret's bedroom. Until recently, Teddy has slept in a pack-and-play in our room. Over the past few weeks, there have been rumblings about how he needs to learn how to sleep on his own. He's also started to pull himself up in the pack-and-play in ways that call into question the safety of that repository for the Tedster. So we plopped him in his crib the other night. And he slept pretty well. He woke up a few times in ways that drew our attention, but I suspect that we missed his minor "waking-up" events. Which, I suppose, is a major point of putting him in another room. (Also, Margaret didn't seem to wake up when Teddy fussed.)

As for number one, she's starting to work on her pronouns. To this point, she's very confused about the appropriate use of pronouns. She often refers to herself in the first person - "Margaret tries it?" I've tried to point out, with no success, that this way of referring to oneself is really only common among celebrities and eccentrics. And when she asks for help, she says "Help you?" which accurately reflects our statements to her, but misses certain subtleties.

The other day, however, Margaret and I were sitting on a bench in a park along the Potomac River (after she had taken a requisite flop in a mud puddle.) "Do you see any boats?," I asked her. "I see one," she replied. Although no boats were evident, I was ecstatic about her correct use of "I." Such a bright little girl!

Margaret's crazy ups

Margaret has been working on her "jumping" for about 4 months. To this point, that involves her throwing her arms in the air while launching one of her feet off the ground while the other stays firmly grounded. This has been a major embarassment compared to Reid, our next door two-and-a-half-year-old. Reid can run and jump much better than Margaret. And her artistic skills with the sidewalk chalk put Margaret to shame.

But today, Margaret managed to get both feet off the ground at the same time. She coiled her body and, bam, got both feet a half inch or so off the ground. A great achievement. (Of course, she later face planted while walking down the sidewalk and bloodied her lip - "purple towel!" - so her coordination still isn't that good.)

As for the boy, we're still trying to work out sleep issues. He's a real grinner at this point, but I don't really care at 3:00 AM.

Broccoli

As I mentioned some time ago, Cousin Lizzie plays an important role in our world as a paragon of mature behavior. When we put on sunscreen, we talk about how good Margaret is to allow us to smear this stuff on her. "A big girl, just like Lizzie!" When we put on her hat to ward off the sun, she "looks like a big girl, just like Lizzie!" When she puts on her PJs without fussing, she's "being a big girl, just like Lizzie!" In fact, for almost anything that a two-year-old might find objectionable, which turns out to be just about everything, we use Cousin Lizzie as the exemplar of good behavior. (Her parents must find this so ironic.)

During dinner tonight, Margaret tried to call our bluff for the first time. (In any given situation, she may continue to shriek while ignoring our references to Lizzie, but so far she hasn't questioned the veracity of our claims about her cousin.) We were eating broccoli. Now, I happen to like broccoli, but I can understand how someone might dislike it. However, not the way that I cooked it tonight (tossed with some olive oil, salt, pepper, a bit of sugar and roasted at 500 degrees for 15 minutes or so on a tray that's been heated along with the oven - really caramelizes it and makes it sweet.) Margaret would have none of it. As is often the case, I suspected that she would like it if she would only try it. "One for papa and one for Margaret!" I said, trying our trick of getting her to eat it simultaneously with me. No luck. "One for papa, one for mama and one for Margaret," I said, bringing Abby into the mix. Still no luck. Finally, I brought out the big guns. "Lizzie likes broccoli. One for papa, one for Lizzie and one for Margaret?" Margaret shook her head in response. "But Lizzie likes broccoli." A shake of the head. "Doesn't Lizzie like broccoli?" "No." "Ok, let's check into this." I got the phone and dialed the Philly relatives on speakerphone. Joe answered. "Hey Joe, we're having a debate here about whether or not Lizzie likes broccoli." Joe confirmed that she does, although she prefers the crowns to the stems (a reasonable opinion, I think.) As he was adding this last detail, I pointed out his response to Margaret and, bam, she put a piece in her mouth. Chomp, chomp, chomp. I thanked Joe for his help as Margaret picked up another piece of broccoli. I knew that she would like it, although we did have to negotiate a bit to get her to finish all of it with a bowl of ice cream as the ultimate reward.

But the real reason that Margaret is a big girl (like Lizzie!) tonight is because of what she did when we were getting ready for bed. I asked, in a low-key way, if she wanted to sit on the potty, and she assented. I gave her a big Richard Scarry's book with lots of pictures and words to pass the time. As often happens, she asked whether papa would also like to sit on the potty with a book. "Sure," I said, "But let me change the sheets on the bed first." As I was changing the sheets, Margaret informed me that "Margaret goes poo-poo?" Then "Margaret goes pee-pee?" I let her have her time on the potty, but then when her claims were verified, we effusively praised her and called Grandma Mary and Grandpa Dave to let Margaret report the big news. A big girl like Lizzie indeed.