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.

Calamity Jane

We've spent the last few days trying to keep Margaret from injuring herself. Recently, she's gained enough confidence with her coordination that she does all sorts of silly things that end up leading her to say "I'm sorry" (her term for being hurt) while crying inconsolably. She then inevitably asks for a "purple towel" (which, we eventually figured out, refers to the paper towels that the daycare center uses to wrap ice packs.)

Some examples:

• On Friday, Margaret must have tripped over my feet four or five times, landing on her face each time. I would say, "Be careful Margaret," a common refrain in our world, as she passed by me, but no, she would plow right through me. And inevitably ended up on her face.

• On Saturday, Teddy and Margaret were both in swings at the park. At least twice, Margaret got down and immediately ran into the path of Teddy's swing, getting a good bonk (and bruise) on the head. It was almost too fast to stop as Margaret ran directly in front of Teddy's swing and got sideswiped. On the way home, she then started running down a steep hill. "Ummm. She's going pretty fast," I said to Abby. "Might want to slow her down."

• On Monday, I got a call from Mr. Ty at daycare who informed me that Margaret had fallen while running and had bitten her lip. After getting that call, I just laughed. How big of a klutz could she possibly be? Then when we got home, Margaret managed to bonk her head on the coffee table, smack her shin on the coffee table and take a spill, all in the span of 10 minutes.

• And today while Teddy was screaming when we got home, Margaret tripped while coming into the house and added her cries to Teddy's.

She's covered with bruises, but is also irrepressible - she asks to "run" everytime I pick her up from daycare. When the weather is nice, I let her do so (we hold hands across the street and she can't get away from me since she isn't very fast) up to the IMF building at Pennsylvania and 18th. There, she plays in the fountains for a while after which I put her in the back seat of the stroller (a story for another post since she likes the back seat in our "back or front," as she calls it, stroller) and we head for home.

Cubbies in DC

We went to a Cubs-Nationals game at the new ballpark in DC today. A friend of mine in Chicago offered to hook us up with tics to a random Nats game of our choice through a friend of his who works for the Nationals. Being somewhat greedy, I asked if we could get tickets to a game when the Cubs were in town, although I figured that the game would be close to a sell-out since the Cubs draw pretty well when they're in town. Luckily, it wasn't anywhere near a sell-out, so we got great tickets in the lower level up the third base line.

Let's start with a review of the new Nationals stadium. It's a nice enough place. Getting there can be a bit of a hassle on the Metro when you've got a stroller and a kid in the Baby Bjorn, but if you show up at 12:00 for a 1:35 game (since you didn't convert the CST start time on the Cubs website to EST), you won't have any problems with crowded public transportation. The area around the ballpark is a wasteland - absolutely nothing worth seeing or visiting near the park. For now, at least, since there's obviously a ton of construction in the area, so I expect that whole part of the city to pick up soon. You walk from the Metro to the ballpark through a corridor of construction fences.

One "flaw" in the stadium that I've heard people complain about at the dog park is the lack of a "stunning view." The most common counterexample is Pittsburgh's new stadium where the outfield opens onto the bridges and downtown buildings across the Allegheny River. It's true that the new Nats stadium doesn't have much of a view, but that's because DC doesn't really have many stunning views. "What?" you ask. "How can the home of the Washington Monument, Lincoln Memorial, etc. not have stunning views?" Well, it's true that DC does have stunning views in certain areas, but those areas are all taken, and there's no room for a new baseball stadium that would take advantage of them. More generally, unlike Pittsburgh which, for all of its many, many flaws, is a geographically and visually pleasant setting for a city, DC doesn't have any real unexploited vistas to use for the new stadium. So you're stuck with a stadium in an unattractive part of what isn't a very striking city, outside of the core monument area. (Georgetown and other parts of the city are very nice, but, again, you can't put a baseball stadium in the middle of Georgetown.)

The stadium itself is nice, but I wouldn't want to be in the upper deck. Due to our connection, we were sitting in the lower level, about 20 rows from the field. The stadium has a mezzanine level above the lower level that is larger than the middle level of seats at most stadiums. There are then two levels of luxury boxes. Then the upper deck and, around home base, an upper-upper deck. Those seats are way, way up, and I suspect that the view isn't too good from them. The sight lines are good enough, but there really isn't anything that interesting about the stadium - say, a great view out of the outfield or some sort of interesting gimmick in the outfield wall - that catches your eye. All of the people working at the stadium were friendly enough, although they hassled Margaret, in good humor, about her Cubs dress. And the concession line was absymally slow, the worst I have ever experienced in any ballpark.

So how did our experience work? Margaret was excited all morning: "Going to a baseball game!" she kept saying. We dressed the kids in their Cubs gear that, due to the cool weather, didn't have it's full effect as we had to bundle them up in warmer clothes. We did, however, managed to put Margaret's Cubs dress over her sweatshirt. Actually, she's outgrown it as a dress at this point, so it was more of an "empire waist" top. Lots of people, especially other Cubs fans, grinned and pointed at her as she trundled around. Since we got to the game so early, Margaret and Teddy both fell asleep around the first inning. In Margaret's case, it took some time for her to fall asleep since she was overstimulated, but completely exhausted. She fell asleep on my chest, and I watched the next four innings with her snoring away. Both of them woke up in the middle innings, and we actually managed to stay until the end of the seventh. We could've staying longer, but we wanted to beat the rush back to the Metro.

Many teams have multiple characters who run in races at some point in the game. In Pittsburgh, the race involved various flavors of pierogies. In Milwaukee, I think that it's a variety of sausages. Here, it's four presidents: Washington, Lincoln, Jefferson and Teddy Roosevelt. We tried to get a picture of our Teddy with the big Teddy R., but ours was asleep and the big one couldn't really figure out what we were trying to do. So something to shoot for in a future trip to the Nats new digs.

After all that, here are the pics.

Does Teddy Dream of Electric Sheep?

While heading to the Cherry Blossom Parade last Saturday, we almost ran over some ducklings crossing the road by the Fed. Margaret got a good look, but probably didn't get a full appreciation of them from her position in the car. Which is a shame since one of her favorite books is "Make Way For Ducklings" in which Mrs. Mallard and her offspring make their way to the Public Garden in Boston, aided by some Boston cops. Luckily for our ducklings, they had blocked off most of the roads around the Fed in preparation for the parade (which happened to seriously hinder our attempts to park at the Fed), so they didn't face serious traffic. Although it poured before the parade, the weather ended up being ok, and Margaret had a great time watching the bands and floats pass by.

But the major topic of this post is not ducklings or parades, rather it's Teddy's sleep habits. Put briefly, Teddy has been a really crappy sleeper. To be fair to the boy, I don't remember how well his sister slept at a similar point in her life, but I do know that we used the swing to lull her to sleep and that she would sleep for hours at a time in it. In contrast, Teddy has never liked the swing. His typical sleep pattern at night involves falling asleep around 8:00 PM and then waking up sometime between midnight and 1:00 AM. Now, waking up around then is understandable for a kid who wants a midnight snack. The problem is what follows that snack. Teddy doesn't want to play in the middle of the night, but he also doesn't want to be "left alone." Instead, he wants to sleep on top of his mama, and he wakes and fusses ever hour or so when she tries to put him back in his pack-n-play. So he ends up getting up around 2:00, 3:00, 4:00, 5:00, etc. or some combination of those times. It's really quite difficult, especially for Abby, since it prevents us from actually getting quality R.E.M. sleep (even for me, although I often manage to roll over and fall back asleep pretty quickly.)

For the past month or so, we have been plotting a "shock treatment" in which we let the kid cry himself to sleep when he's having problems getting to sleep and clearly has no reason to be up. Luckily for him, he slept through the night last night (for the first time ever!!!!), so he may escape that fate if he can keep it up. Otherwise, we'll toss him into his bed, put in the earplugs, and sleep like "babies." Which may sound harsh, but it's better than tossing him out the window as I often threaten to do after an especially bad night.

O bed! O bed! delicious bed!
That heaven upon earth to the weary head.
~ Thomas Hood, Miss Kilmansegg - Her Dream

And if tonight my soul may find her peace
in sleep, and sink in good oblivion,
and in the morning wake like a new-opened flower
then I have been dipped again in God, and new-created.
~ D.H. Lawrence

O sleep, O gentle sleep,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down
And steep my sense in forgetfulness?
~ William Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part I

People who say they sleep like a baby usually don't have one.
~ Leo J. Burke

As for those of you who wonder about the odd title of this post, please see this which spawned a great movie.

Also, Teddy has recently become pretty good at sitting up on his own. I suppose that's a new skill worthy of a post, but given his sister's achievements and his sleep problems, I'm not inclined to praise the boy too much. But here are some pictures including some in which he's showing off his new skill.

Medical update

We went to Margaret's two year check-up and Teddy's six month check-up a few days ago. For fans who are keeping score, Margaret is still tall and thin as she's in the 90th percentile (35.4") for height and 75th (29 lbs) percentile for weight. Teddy is matching his sister as he's in the 95th percentile for height (29") and the 50th percentile for weight (19 lbs). Margaret is also doing well in her communication skills (full sentences!), as her verbal skills match those of a three year old, but her physical skills are somewhat lacking (she can't jump.) Teddy is basically a blob who is as proficient at being so as any 6 month old kid.

But who cares about that. Here are some pictures.

A bunch of stuff

Reflecting various exciting events in our household, we have a multimedia extravaganza for fans of the blog.

First, Teddy has started eating solid foods. We decided to test him this weekend to see if it would help him sleep better. No luck on that front, but he took to it like a champ. Ate the stuff with only minor fussing, unlike his sister who was initially intrigued, but then annoyed, by the whole solid food thing. Luckily for Teddy, he had his big sister coaching him through the experience. And trying to help her parents.





We also went to the aquarium in Baltimore on Sunday. We thought about heading there on Saturday since the weather was supposed to be bad, but the predictions of the weathermen have been so off lately that, when it was bright and sunny on Saturday morning, we spent the day wandering around the parks in our neighborhood instead. Sunday morning was gray and drizzly, so we decided to drive to Baltimore. Margaret and Teddy slept most of the way, as befits champion travelers. Once we got to Baltimore, we found a key parking spot ("Doris Day parking" as one of our Pittsburgh friends would say) which made the trip worthwhile from my point of view (as my brother-in-law notes, no one in my family likes to pay for parking.) Margaret squealed with glee and jumped around when we walked in.

The Baltimore aquarium is pretty cool. It's nothing like the aquarium here in DC which is in the basement of the Commerce Department and is so pathetic that one of my colleagues suggested that it would be better (and cheaper) to hit a Petco to see fish. We often visit Petco to buy food for Maddie, and Margaret loves it since they have birds and small rodents in addition to fish. But the Baltimore Aquarium is on a completely different level. Lots of interesting, colorful fish. Lots of fun watching scuba divers feed the fish, some of whom waved at us as they passed by. And an employee feeding a dead mouse on a stick to an alligator - excellent, at least in my opinion, although everyone around us was grossed out. It all ends with one of the coolest displays I've ever seen as you descend on from the top level to the exit through one big fish bowl. Initially, I thought that the Baltimore aquarium didn't rival the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago, but the last part made me think again. Pretty cool, even if the kids (or more appropriately, the Boy) started fussing.

Here are some videos of Margaret at the aquarium.



And, to complete the whole multimedia experience, here are some photos of the weekend.

Two years old

Kid number one is now two years old. Hurray!! We have officially entered the Terrible Twos. It's odd, but I could have sworn that we'd been there for a while. Still, Margaret and I did have a nice evening uploading pictures on the web as she stayed up late for her birthday.

As befits the distinguished status of kid number one, we have experienced six days of celebration of her birthday. It all began on Saturday when Grandma Mary, Grandpa Dave and the Philly relatives (Lizzie! Andwu! Alex!) arrived. We hit the Mall for the National Kite Festival, which was quite a scene. The National Kite Festival is one of those events where the weather always seems to be nice (i.e., not raining and reasonably breezy as needed for kites) and everyone seems to be in a good mood. How do you keep your kite from getting tangled with someone else's kite? I don't know, but no worries since no one seems to get too worked up when lines do get tangled. Initially, Alex, Andrew and I tried to fly our kite with limited success (BTW, I could've gotten the kite up, but the kids didn't seem to grasp the physics behind kite flying.) We then watched a "professional" kite-flying display which was basically a battle royale with a bunch of kites up in the air banging into one another. The last one up after all sorts of intentional collisions won the round. A very odd scene, especially since you tended to watch the kites in the sky, but most of the action took place on the ground as the teams ran all over the place maneuvering for position.

Eventually, some of us got bored with that event, so we wandered off and, due to a series of serendipitous gusts of wind, managed to get our kite way up in the air. Lizzie and I flew the kite for a while until the wind dropped off. We all then wandered around the Mall for a few hours hitting all of the sights that Abby and I take for granted. "Oh yeah. That's the new World War II Memorial. Would you like to see it? The quotes in the Lincoln Memorial? They're kind of boring." Yawn. At least for us, but not, we had to remember, for everyone else.

On Sunday, we had an early birthday party for Margaret. As was the case on her first birthday, Margaret found the cake a bit disturbing, but unlike last time, she managed to get over it and ended up stuffing her face.

After the Philly relatives left, we opened presents. And boy did Margaret make out like a champ. A mini-kitchen ("It's hot," she says seriously, mimicking her Papa, as she puts something in the oven), a bunch of horses for her little barn, and a lot of books. As befits her maternal gene pool, she reveled in the whole process of opening and basking in the glow of her presents.

Margaret and the boy then spent the next three days at home with Grandma Mary and Grandpa Dave. Such fun. For all parties involved. Margaret seemed to be in an unusually good mood each morning from the time she woke up. And I didn't have to scramble from work to pick them up from daycare. Sure the ladies at daycare harangued me about their absence when I stopped by to tell them where the kids were, but I have to say that the presence of grandparents, either my parents or Abby's parents on earlier visits, is a godsend for our quality of life. The kids seemed to enjoy having the grandparents around too.

Today was the OFFICIAL birthday. We had a little party at daycare with the same cupcakes (sans frosting which the caretakers love since it keeps the mess to a minimum) that we used last year. Rather than saying "Happy Birthday, Elessar" (directed to one of the kids in her class), Margaret has now started saying "Happy Birthday, Margaret." I've pointed out to her that she needs to work on her pronouns since only celebrities and eccentric people refer to themselves in the third person, but she doesn't seem to get it. In any case, we had a nice party at school. AND BEST OF ALL, Teddy, Margaret, Maddie and I are enjoying some bonding time since Mama is out of town leaving Papa to deal with the kids. Which brings back memories of previous episodes in which Mama has deserted Papa and the kids. At the end of the day, we all survive, but it's not pleasant.

Last night, for example, Teddie woke up at 1:00 AM. After giving him a bottle, he continued to fuss, so I brought him into bed with me and kept sticking a pacificer and/or bottle into his mouth whenever he woke up. Which seemed, to me, to be about every 30 minutes or so. Not fun. When I mentioned this experience at work, one of my research assistants asked "But doesn't your wife have to deal with that every night when she's home?" Harumph.

Here, then, are some pics illustrating various things that I've written about in this post. Note that in some of the pictures, Margaret has a pony tail. A new development about which I'll opine in detail at a future date.