tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47140214895301518442024-03-13T00:38:43.016-07:00Pandas and SuperherosA blog about adopting and raising 2 kids from ChinaEChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.comBlogger299125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-53914797903386230412019-10-17T14:37:00.001-07:002019-10-17T14:37:11.672-07:00The Boy is AthleticI don't post as much, now that the kids are older, now that they could read or even write their own entries. But I posted much longer for Abigail than for Joseph and Joseph is a pretty great kid. At the end of his Montessori education, age 5, the amazing teacher duo of Mr. Jay and Ms. Kelly gave awards to the kids and Joseph got Most Likely to be in the Olympics. <br />
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But Joseph has a very American trait that will seriously hamstring his ability to be a world class athlete: his not-so-inspiring work ethic. *shrugs* But hey, he is happy and well-rounded and I'm okay not having my almost 7 year old on a travel team.<br />
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Last weekend, we took the kids to a batting cage for their first time to try to bat anything than a wiffle ball at close range with a fat plastic bat. Here is the boy on one of his first pitches:<br />
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Here is the boy at a recent soccer game (photo credit to Abigail)<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXNeP55jARMqtj4CJ8JDclfjQiF2j6XW1k4FBbQYnb9LPz4YPkx16ecq7fGdT5dNoQLVKN4cVvkdsV6wGX83kDOkK_ausxeJJeniQuFOhjHuRIjMSJF7_IeeJl7NssfXQYWlVRcyB77B0/s1600/00100lPORTRAIT_00100_BURST20190917183914851_COVER.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXNeP55jARMqtj4CJ8JDclfjQiF2j6XW1k4FBbQYnb9LPz4YPkx16ecq7fGdT5dNoQLVKN4cVvkdsV6wGX83kDOkK_ausxeJJeniQuFOhjHuRIjMSJF7_IeeJl7NssfXQYWlVRcyB77B0/s400/00100lPORTRAIT_00100_BURST20190917183914851_COVER.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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And, just because I miss summer, here is the boy dock jumping at the lake house this summer.<br />
(no, we do not OWN a lake house)<br />
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<br />This winter he wants to try basketball. <br />
<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-75941619503856964162019-02-02T17:16:00.003-08:002019-02-02T17:16:31.272-08:00Freezing February<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The pond at my parents' house froze this week and my mom bought skates for the kids so today they learned to skate. Abigail was really doing very well by the end of an hour and Joseph was mixing gliding with walking (his skates are double bladed).</span><div>
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EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-62215684468930178742018-10-28T08:45:00.001-07:002018-10-28T08:45:12.342-07:00Our Old Soul Turns Nine<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Abigail has always been an old soul. I was recently thinking of something that happened when she was 2 1/2. We were at the playground in our neighborhood and she got stung by a bee. She tried not to cry, but got a bit teary eyed and I took her home and gave her some TLC. I tried to make her feel better by telling her that she may have been stung, but the bee died when it stung her. (I know this only happens to honey bees, and I doubt that is what stung her, but I thought it would make her feel better to know the bee was brought to justice.) But this only added to her misery as she began to sob for the poor bee with her own discomfort forgotten.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That is still our girl. Still our old soul who likes quiet time. Still our little introvert who would rather be around 2 or 3 special people than a whole party room full of people. For those of us lucky enough to be in her orbit, she opens up to us in both silly and serious ways. She is thoughtful, persistent, kind, clever and a loyal friend. </span><br />
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<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-46324314371013085932018-10-21T16:57:00.000-07:002018-10-22T16:57:24.377-07:00Sunday SnapshotsMy soccer boy<br />
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<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-16278265131461214882018-10-14T11:16:00.001-07:002018-10-14T11:16:53.353-07:00Sunday Snapshots<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-62634846714016870752018-08-18T20:02:00.001-07:002018-08-18T20:02:35.721-07:00Sunday Snapshot: I love these two<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-23114756191910262222018-08-07T07:04:00.002-07:002018-08-07T08:21:18.243-07:00Joseph's Summer of Growing Up, Part 3<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhslW34hw-gJDStUptEWxf-TnRy3bcXuU6tu_pQPUcnjeM8q6ACfg4qakewtV-6w0q3EsP-XFOhZB4B5pR9Og4QnS_6LpUChz4VwG7Z2Kha9vjg9unUbGCqTsI2OCKlVDWGtmv7CItKbDo/s1600/Jos+%25285%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1068" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhslW34hw-gJDStUptEWxf-TnRy3bcXuU6tu_pQPUcnjeM8q6ACfg4qakewtV-6w0q3EsP-XFOhZB4B5pR9Og4QnS_6LpUChz4VwG7Z2Kha9vjg9unUbGCqTsI2OCKlVDWGtmv7CItKbDo/s320/Jos+%25285%2529.JPG" width="213" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sometimes it is the little, subtle things that make you take notice of your kiddo and see them in a new light. Take Joseph. This summer, he has decided that sometimes he wants to dress himself in clothes that are not athletic wear or DriFit. You know, shirts with collars and khaki shorts and reef flip flops. You know, the fancy stuff. I also took him shopping for school clothes for kindergarten. He wanted jeans. Skinny jeans. He looked at least 3rd grade in them!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Joseph is trying to become Mr. Responsible too. He clears his plate after dinner without being asked (and often clears the plates of other people too!). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He speaks in more complex paragraphs. He is full of clever one-liners. For example, we have a needle for the hand pump so that the kids can blow up their basketballs when they are low on air. I keep the needle in the garage, in its tiny cardboard package, hanging above a box of sticks we use to start fires in the winter. I kept warning the kids not to drop the needle into the stick box.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Then Joseph told me "Mama, I dropped the needle in the stick box." (This was also an out-of-context sentence that really confused Larry.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I said "Jos, I told you guys over and over not to do that!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He fired back immediately "Well, maybe you shouldn't have hung the needle over the stick box!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I had no comeback for that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Recently his sister had surgery that limited her walking and what she can eat. He has been so kind and helpful, even though he has been jealous of all her new Lego sets and ice cream dinners. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She has not wanted to be alone for a second either and when Larry and I told her she had to start getting brave enough to get over that, he looked deep into her eyes and sincerely told her "I will never leave you Jie Jie."</span><br />
<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-87663904425680230942018-08-03T14:05:00.004-07:002018-08-03T14:07:33.194-07:00Joseph's Summer of Growing Up, Part 2Together with my parents and brother we rent a house we love on Smith Mountain Lake. The house has a swimming/ party dock that is huge and the water at our dock is deep and clean. Abigail has always loved to run and jump and swim in the deep water. She was fearless (even when she thought there were sharks in the lake) because her Uncle Jim was there.<br />
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Joseph has preferred to sit on the dock and watch or wade into the shallow water up to his waist.</div>
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This year, before the car was even unpacked, Joseph was down at the dock jumping off the ladder to his grandmother. We were all saying that maybe he'd be brave enough to jump off the dock by the end of the week.</div>
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Ten minutes later:</div>
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And shortly after that, he yelled "Cannnnnoooooonnnnnnnbaaaaaaalllllll" while running for the length of the dock before launching himself into the deep water.</div>
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But that wasn't all.</div>
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By the end of the week, he was riding piggy-back style into the lake on Larry's back.</div>
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We went to the community beach for the lake so there was a zero-entry swimming situation for Joseph. He decided it was time to start swimming both under water and on top of the water, teaching himself how to come up for air without touching bottom. And then, as soon as we got home, he announced he would be swimming in our pool (where he can't touch bottom) without his life jacket anymore. Okay, kid. You got this.</div>
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EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-67926863122651803722018-06-26T18:51:00.000-07:002018-08-01T18:56:49.890-07:00Joseph's Summer of Growing Up, Part 1<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was a pleasant morning in June and the kids were riding bikes and other riding things on the driveway as they often do on pleasant mornings. Larry and I had been bugging Joseph about relinquishing his training wheels for a while, especially since he could ride his balance bike down a hill while weaving between two rows of trees, over a driveway, and into a drainage ditch without issues. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On this particular morning, Joseph said that he was ready to take off his training wheels. I said okay, buddy, let me go get some shoes on and I'll help you. I went inside and when I returned to the scene a minute or two later, Joseph had already obtained a crescent wrench, removed his left training wheel, and stored it on a shelf. I didn't even know he knew what tool to use for such a job, much less how to use it properly! The right wheel was on a bit harder, so I helped him with that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Then he hopped on his bike and started to go.<br /><br />That was it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">By the next morning, he was standing and pedaling and turning. A few days later he was confident enough to ride to a local playground a mile away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I don't know if I am more proud of the bike riding or the wrench usage.</span><br />
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Video here: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qc9tN9H5l3c&feature=youtu.be" target="_blank"> Link to YouTube</a><br />
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<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-91584277470058239412018-06-26T12:45:00.002-07:002018-06-26T12:47:19.729-07:00Proud to be a Minnow<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I have seen the stat that a typical pre-schooler asks 144 questions per day. Joseph, god bless him, reaches his quota by about 9:15 AM. I try to nurture his questions to promote his love of learning and curious nature. But sometimes, I am just worn out. Read: I begin to make sh*t up. (Ask me sometime about the great footballer Silas Bojangles.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sometime this past spring, I was with the kids and Abigail was talking about being a GES Gator. And we talked about the Wildcat mascot where Lar and I teach. And the Tiger mascot at the middle school. And the Bobcat mascot for another school. More questions kept coming. At some point, Joseph wanted to know what animal represented his school. Ready for the interrogation to be over, I quickly answered with mock surprise "Oh Joseph, don't you know you are a Merit School Minnow?" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He saved face by saying "Oh yeah, I knew that."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The conversation was forgotten (by me, at least) until last night. I asked Joseph how he was enjoying his summer break so far and he said it was great, but then sighed and paused and said "I miss being a Minnow though, and seeing Ms. Kelly and Mr. Jay and getting Friday dum-dums."</span><br />
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<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-65006189199794858162018-03-11T13:41:00.001-07:002018-03-11T13:41:26.734-07:00a day in DC<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Joseph has been spending his last year before kindergarten in a really amazing, top-notch, perfect-for-him, OMG-does-he-really-have-to-leave-this-place preschool. He is doing their Montessori program and, for those of you who don't know, Montessori teaches kids about discovery, love of learning, independence, and (my favorite) about the greater world of which they are a teeny, tiny part.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">His amazing teachers, Mrs. Kelly and Mr. Jay, have been teaching the kids that not all kids have water. (Some of Joseph's new favorite YouTube videos show kids walking barefoot to get buckets of muddy water and then their village gets a well built and they drink clean water.) The kids have been collecting change to raise money for Amman Imman. They have been studying artists, mimicking their work, and selling their art at a fundraiser for Amman Imman. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Joseph has learned about Andy Goldsworthy and done his own multi-media nature piece, Piet Mondrain and done his own rectangles and primary colors piece, and he learned about van Gogh and really loved his self portrait and tried his hand at his own version of starry night.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This, combined with Abigail's interest in art, led us to drive to DC today (55 minutes to get there, 100 to get home because I-95 does not have bi-directional HOV lanes, which I will <i>never </i>understand). Our first stop was the Smithsonian Art Museum. Joseph got to see one of his favorite new paintings. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJAl6HwEPTcwMcewtKG466jDxqfDwkfZGu3oc4CDM_u77EhtymyCRAGRW1WexVhS6aT9oZdvVVxBbn7A3jXMdkFntiSSty_SbNbJZz6DNFhPQSvfCEaGnD4r3nkRD-xQotTQSMzAXDkQ/s1600/DC+Art+Museum+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJAl6HwEPTcwMcewtKG466jDxqfDwkfZGu3oc4CDM_u77EhtymyCRAGRW1WexVhS6aT9oZdvVVxBbn7A3jXMdkFntiSSty_SbNbJZz6DNFhPQSvfCEaGnD4r3nkRD-xQotTQSMzAXDkQ/s400/DC+Art+Museum+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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After that, I had packed lunchboxes for us to eat lunch on the drive home, but it was such a mild day (nearly 50 degrees, but, for the first time in forever, NO WIND!!) that we had an impromptu picnic in front of the Capitol building before heading to the United States Botanic Garden where there is an orchid spectrum happening now. The kids got to try vanilla ice cream (vanilla is in the orchid family), see a cacao tree (not related to orchids, but fun for them), and plant their own orchids which may flower in 2 years if properly cared for.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJrcJ_npi2Ktae05WrEC_GgOArfQT1Ysy8Jwk0IRTQHmSMI2dQ4u-s1MSlULR7Ypyirjl4mwv72_L_Lt190AghYAVI4a0feG-JNTBvoJ4le7E3oQYi_A27H11-Do_-5XLLOvG9rfqB0E0/s1600/DC+Botanic+Garden+%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrAEIwkB6SQ3VJ566Mj9589gtKSixn6uK0YKBfqkNoxqfBGbAo96SPVoF20T28OIhuI4CjYWkw1XQ5hWQ6hg82KnFhpljYSxEwLCFj2ucTeK6vzNHhGOTDf1gRqAs96qTWePmp5_CyHxc/s1600/DC+Picnic+%25288%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1068" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrAEIwkB6SQ3VJ566Mj9589gtKSixn6uK0YKBfqkNoxqfBGbAo96SPVoF20T28OIhuI4CjYWkw1XQ5hWQ6hg82KnFhpljYSxEwLCFj2ucTeK6vzNHhGOTDf1gRqAs96qTWePmp5_CyHxc/s400/DC+Picnic+%25288%2529.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXIA8KzINuG6UuPVc8KovPtK6UysEAXmI5qBO8CX7mQJyuuf8WcpAcMAPESzPgdVAEqegzp54Ailf3AxjqBSs7r7SMBefuKpJz9GMj1ZOjg6oxF8T03qbLeb-uWauEB82rK91dfB3GJpw/s1600/DC+Botanic+Garden+%25288%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXIA8KzINuG6UuPVc8KovPtK6UysEAXmI5qBO8CX7mQJyuuf8WcpAcMAPESzPgdVAEqegzp54Ailf3AxjqBSs7r7SMBefuKpJz9GMj1ZOjg6oxF8T03qbLeb-uWauEB82rK91dfB3GJpw/s400/DC+Botanic+Garden+%25288%2529.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-28727016956119566252018-03-04T16:26:00.000-08:002018-03-05T16:27:00.483-08:00Beautiful Boy: Sunday Snapshot<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsLJ8SbEtwXO2lC9tVRZU9XnkzWuLeMAvCSFoNjEGsGfXtwHmyojIgHynJ03zmBk1hPblyLXMvqVsBHW_tg2GIvPGCoiG7jBxVYpXmLSxsXopLZfjmioBU7CpieNDd5bdOS7jjPeWfXts/s1600/4585.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsLJ8SbEtwXO2lC9tVRZU9XnkzWuLeMAvCSFoNjEGsGfXtwHmyojIgHynJ03zmBk1hPblyLXMvqVsBHW_tg2GIvPGCoiG7jBxVYpXmLSxsXopLZfjmioBU7CpieNDd5bdOS7jjPeWfXts/s400/4585.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweat-Head, Happy Boy</td></tr>
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<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-37737262147092739412018-03-03T13:44:00.000-08:002018-03-15T13:45:20.300-07:00The (gale) Force was with usWhat do you do when a 2-day long wind storm with 70 mph winds knocks out the power to almost the whole town? <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht_-rpE2Dse6aHVtCNHFeNkND9jAMYCEqf1KtHkJ-u2ySbci-6ejqE3OrOtJNd37lNBRK0_hPujYcxvAd-syR35w9cZLLhLooA9innT6RdROw4pY3quEELzMVW4N3S-5yK3N4FYWofBbs/s1600/Windstorm+No+Power+%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht_-rpE2Dse6aHVtCNHFeNkND9jAMYCEqf1KtHkJ-u2ySbci-6ejqE3OrOtJNd37lNBRK0_hPujYcxvAd-syR35w9cZLLhLooA9innT6RdROw4pY3quEELzMVW4N3S-5yK3N4FYWofBbs/s400/Windstorm+No+Power+%25283%2529.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgReDiljsNdfzdqrUiJTFqtKmAf6eIv-VScBv5fGcMu8PQA7DaKo0kyXczf0l6tW3jwFVk5C16LSkJPgGgumJOu1lTAI-cf2BXaStp0wCJAlgLLQlCqKVrYHrg8dvQTLtg2hrgezXZvDR0/s1600/Windstorm+No+Power+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgReDiljsNdfzdqrUiJTFqtKmAf6eIv-VScBv5fGcMu8PQA7DaKo0kyXczf0l6tW3jwFVk5C16LSkJPgGgumJOu1lTAI-cf2BXaStp0wCJAlgLLQlCqKVrYHrg8dvQTLtg2hrgezXZvDR0/s400/Windstorm+No+Power+%25281%2529.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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You eat Easy Mac and cold fried chicken (practically the last food left at the only open grocery store, which took us a round trip of 70 minutes to get) and watch Star Wars while taking shelter at school! We were the only ones there, although teacher friends later wondered why they hadn't thought of doing that while they shivered in the cold and dark.EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-37371365508363873922018-02-25T18:52:00.002-08:002018-02-25T18:52:55.123-08:00Sunday Snapshot(s)<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiySTbyh8GE31DHrq8b__ha82-PVjsPkv1VSwXQSQbCei3bPkc7FavlkgGwp7RmkdUxsjkAlnC0Bd6hh4dKZgOQEwRPgVflxsO1b7mnH0qiMSoN_9Gr23OmpvKgG03u6iOSwsAbm54gYOY/s1600/CNY+Dog+%252814%2529+edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiySTbyh8GE31DHrq8b__ha82-PVjsPkv1VSwXQSQbCei3bPkc7FavlkgGwp7RmkdUxsjkAlnC0Bd6hh4dKZgOQEwRPgVflxsO1b7mnH0qiMSoN_9Gr23OmpvKgG03u6iOSwsAbm54gYOY/s400/CNY+Dog+%252814%2529+edit.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy Year of the Dog<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQUKNBqccbg2ZV3bbsjr3AdaE68ne7Ba0qElKp7Ie1iLBspxLjXzT9wErW68IGmHYfYTECIAgXSVmBYymRq9Xwj5oAPh9BxNXRUqOAJ3Ch0ai5bszRlHjSJ0UyCX4cLAaQMYPGm9U_2vU/s1600/Kids+Brick+Wall+%25284%2529+-+Copy+filters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQUKNBqccbg2ZV3bbsjr3AdaE68ne7Ba0qElKp7Ie1iLBspxLjXzT9wErW68IGmHYfYTECIAgXSVmBYymRq9Xwj5oAPh9BxNXRUqOAJ3Ch0ai5bszRlHjSJ0UyCX4cLAaQMYPGm9U_2vU/s400/Kids+Brick+Wall+%25284%2529+-+Copy+filters.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love finding an old brick wall when I have a camera with me</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYbl6LhYulI4kGj1M8DoO9nDh0g_pFjBxtOHWQPMTmnH06SS41HJ-rCgjcUUUAqIaQPiw1og2BI5dxsKw0fQovckd3Al48E057s41nJMT6kCP1AAV11b_MH3DhCHPtkYIXtddGPZfDRgU/s1600/Kids+Brick+Wall+%25286%2529+filters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1066" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYbl6LhYulI4kGj1M8DoO9nDh0g_pFjBxtOHWQPMTmnH06SS41HJ-rCgjcUUUAqIaQPiw1og2BI5dxsKw0fQovckd3Al48E057s41nJMT6kCP1AAV11b_MH3DhCHPtkYIXtddGPZfDRgU/s400/Kids+Brick+Wall+%25286%2529+filters.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I told them to look grown up.<br />They pretended to have cell phones.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnTVri33wy2nBVggEaXCbU_VbHPbFSC3jCpRcE2yNRoguiVJn0PJbsGKoL6X2qGE6WJwOG9hExjs2TS4mBFydqr3bpw2mz5ZR9p-jF2b-apMAjBHGFVPAurtrajdiaYp3mkgOYTO5rer0/s1600/KidsBrickWall%25287%2529-Copy+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnTVri33wy2nBVggEaXCbU_VbHPbFSC3jCpRcE2yNRoguiVJn0PJbsGKoL6X2qGE6WJwOG9hExjs2TS4mBFydqr3bpw2mz5ZR9p-jF2b-apMAjBHGFVPAurtrajdiaYp3mkgOYTO5rer0/s400/KidsBrickWall%25287%2529-Copy+frame.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grunge Frame<br /></td></tr>
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<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-52153825137004629392018-02-05T12:03:00.000-08:002018-03-15T12:03:55.135-07:00It is good to have goals, by AbigailAbigail is eight and in grade 3. Lately, she has been really doing a great job taking care of her dog. She cuddles it, reads with it, pets it. It is the first thing she wants to see in the morning. She often considers her dog's point of view on matters. She has it do tricks and she feeds it. The change has been sudden, and I thought it was because she wanted to get a new dog in December but we told her to just be better with the dog she has.<br />
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Most weeks, Abigail's teacher sends home work from the past week or month and we look through it and recycle 99% or more of it (kids generate SO much paperwork). Last week, a banner-foldable came home with her that she did at the beginning of January. On it, she answered questions about the year, old and new.<br />
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Here are her answers:<br />
The best part of 2017 was: I got to go to New York City<br />
Something I am going to stop doing: Hitting my brother when we fight<br />
School Goals: To read a little faster. To do money better. To do math better. To be good.<br />
Personal Goal: I hope to treat my dog better.<br />
--- And there it is!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLDa-U1aqTcsLfrm6LlLQDV87OiPCfQRErdA0BaRWBqFEXdhO-vPcZ5xfWdM9Nkj7QNvZ-_pJXIiZJd5hJm1TBJk3rDfztp9_HH0JcPTBFuW9hdWcHZwVOr5P4JHROKX3RmYFdA5gwmOw/s1600/Girl+and+Her+Dog+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLDa-U1aqTcsLfrm6LlLQDV87OiPCfQRErdA0BaRWBqFEXdhO-vPcZ5xfWdM9Nkj7QNvZ-_pJXIiZJd5hJm1TBJk3rDfztp9_HH0JcPTBFuW9hdWcHZwVOr5P4JHROKX3RmYFdA5gwmOw/s400/Girl+and+Her+Dog+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-28139628326188584552018-01-02T14:31:00.000-08:002018-01-02T14:31:01.562-08:00Tales from Christmas 2017<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This post could have been titled Epic Mom Fail</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am a planner. I love the planning of November and December. I love making memories for and with the kids. I love being thoughtful. The planning and anticipation is more fun for me than the actual event.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Weeks before Christmas, I take the below photo while the kids were sleeping. (Yes, they seriously are that cute when they sleep.)<br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I plan to leave it out for Christmas morning with a note from Elfie that said "I hugged you goodbye."<br />Sentimentality tear-jerker, for those who <i>get</i> the Elf, right? The magic is so short, only a few years long really. It is surely to be the last year in our house; Joseph is figuring things out and told Abigail all month that Santa isn't real.<br /><br />I had the photo printed and hidden from the kids.<br /><br />On Christmas Eve, I bathed the kids and I made sure that Joseph wore a red shirt to bed because some red was visible under the blanket. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I made sure the same pillow cases were on the bed, in the same order and the kids were in in that order. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After the kids were asleep, I carefully laid out the picture from Elfie and a letter from Santa, next to the cookie crumbs, that said "I have Elfie. Merry Christmas."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I filled the stockings. I put presents under the tree. I cleaned up various dishes and things lying around the house. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I went to bed with a feeling that I was forgetting something.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On Christmas morning, the kids were excited to find the picture from Elfie and note from Santa. Abigail read everything out loud to Joseph and when she read "I hugged you goodbye" Joseph cocked his head to the side and trilled "aawww", his voice falling and rising with admiration.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They opened their stockings and then their gifts from Santa. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then they went into their playroom and I heard Abigail yell "ELFIE IS STILL HERE! He is in the same spot as yesterday."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I slipped into a ridiculously crazy Christmas depression after that. I couldn't believe I messed it up. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Do you remember getting a Christmas catalog when you were little? I remember it from the '80s. We would get a thick Sears or Montgomery Wards catalog and my brothers and I would pour over it, deliberating what we would ask for, trying to be strategic about it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This year, the kids got a Target Christmas catalog. It wasn't the door-jam sized tome we used to get, but inside it had the HotWheels Super Ultimate Gorilla Attack Garage. They wanted this more than anything. Larry and I told them no in a thousand different ways. They pined over it when they saw it in the stores. They teamed up and thought if that was all they asked for together, maybe they would get it. We prodded them to ask for other smaller stuff. After weeks of this dance, I think they gave up hope of getting it, but still really couldn't be pressed for anything else they wanted. But they didn't ask for the garage anymore. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By that point, the garage was already hidden in a closet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On Christmas morning, the kids opened the gifts from relatives and the very few modest things we got them (galoshes, flip flops, shirts, a board game, a few Legos, a book). They looked around and we asked "Did you get everything you want? Are you happy? Is anything missing?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And the kids assured us they were happy, there is nothing more they could want, and that they were very content and grateful for what they had.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was so proud of them. But then we had my parents cover their eyes and Larry carried out the Gorilla Garage. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp0BriB0i4ZVvQSPGW_vLQwtKnDFzJ2-ULSndE3zxfHTSEcZ8q8fbaMbAUHGBF4c6kceLohYnR-OhEn8QQ7DJjJLulGoTXnDxZsGnJSfl5U0CgmLzZqIgoGdbKAaAa950hYAgOlqT2L-A/s1600/Christmas+020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1068" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp0BriB0i4ZVvQSPGW_vLQwtKnDFzJ2-ULSndE3zxfHTSEcZ8q8fbaMbAUHGBF4c6kceLohYnR-OhEn8QQ7DJjJLulGoTXnDxZsGnJSfl5U0CgmLzZqIgoGdbKAaAa950hYAgOlqT2L-A/s400/Christmas+020.JPG" width="266" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They were very excited and surprised to get it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">An hour later, Larry had the thing put together. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And the kids decided it was more fun to play in the box next to it.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2baeqDEBRuYaJuX5KSj1_qKqjROVQ_q2yBxzqlfI0QWT_FQsHpL21Pf0r_EMay8C0Z5pIY55fR1hyphenhyphenTDGdCcqKOKrcOm1m-Iv70NCUPTETyFj3GvI2K-koubGrHYdpUM90b8Cn4KW0r7c/s1600/Christmas+Day+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2baeqDEBRuYaJuX5KSj1_qKqjROVQ_q2yBxzqlfI0QWT_FQsHpL21Pf0r_EMay8C0Z5pIY55fR1hyphenhyphenTDGdCcqKOKrcOm1m-Iv70NCUPTETyFj3GvI2K-koubGrHYdpUM90b8Cn4KW0r7c/s400/Christmas+Day+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lastly, I wanted to share what a kind, old soul Abigail continues to be. She discovered a box of generic Christmas cards this year and she wanted to make cards and drawings for everyone she loved. We all got the sweetest drawings and letters from Abigail this year.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKkP13Uioo29F9rcB4aEF0woLirIqejPfVzyIJJDFXRSES3GpOdfGXFGYpNiIH1_YwaycVtPVDPRo_YCjBrfyYAlxM0ho9EsNn9cVlSCdjueeBkvqLDFJzOTTCRHNiIKJOdxX3BmQRoNs/s1600/IMG_20171223_193312896.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKkP13Uioo29F9rcB4aEF0woLirIqejPfVzyIJJDFXRSES3GpOdfGXFGYpNiIH1_YwaycVtPVDPRo_YCjBrfyYAlxM0ho9EsNn9cVlSCdjueeBkvqLDFJzOTTCRHNiIKJOdxX3BmQRoNs/s400/IMG_20171223_193312896.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-23438133767264649982017-11-11T13:09:00.003-08:002017-11-11T13:09:50.200-08:00The Tree PictureI was just editing photos that I have taken in the past month and was looking at a picture of Abigail, standing between the 2 trunks of a tree, a few days after she turned 8. The picture was taken at a local park where we were on a short hike.<br />
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As I looked at the picture, I thought I had already taken one of her just like that. So, I went into my photo files from a few days before she turned 3, and sure enough, there was a picture of Abigail standing between the 2 trunks of a tree at my brother's house.<br />
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I put the two pictures side by side and couldn't get over it. The lines from one tree to the next. Almost the same pose by my girl, 5 years and 1 week apart. It looks like it could have been the same tree or a planned picture set, but it was all 100% happy accident.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCz9jznZsieCtSb7htNZXZ48JM8xJft-_yo3KsWao7ilMfz7VVsCY9jv6fSMXjjNoD2COxdYFAHVoToHxUkcovKH7G93fvE9Y8msOrAhJt02MNVhTIHBjA-mWywUF-zdeaIHZ9_p8bYc/s1600/The+Tree+Picture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCz9jznZsieCtSb7htNZXZ48JM8xJft-_yo3KsWao7ilMfz7VVsCY9jv6fSMXjjNoD2COxdYFAHVoToHxUkcovKH7G93fvE9Y8msOrAhJt02MNVhTIHBjA-mWywUF-zdeaIHZ9_p8bYc/s400/The+Tree+Picture.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-33814572710917406742017-11-06T16:40:00.001-08:002017-11-06T16:40:13.629-08:00Kenny Weekend<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cousin Kenny came to visit for the weekend! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First, we enjoyed a fun trip to Alexandria for sushi and drinks before catching the pre-Broadway run of the new musical Mean Girls at the National.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On Saturday, Kenny came to cheer on Abigail in her last soccer game, in which the girls won(!) but we don't keep score. The game was awesome; the girls had so much energy and did a lot of passing and were more aggressive than they were all season. I am not sure if Kenny is their good luck charm or if not having 5 subs on a team that can only play 5 kids at a time was our winning strategy. (I kind of suspect it was not having subs: the kids get bored and unfocused when they have to sit for 50% of every game.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After that, we went on a short hike at Government Island and got caught in the rain, which was still fun. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Additionally, the kids "helped" Kenny prepare some of his vials for his big "science fair" at NIH in Bethesda. They were super impressed that Kenny is a Very Important Scientist and he taught them how to use the pipette correctly. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1MwLz-m7wICFCJO9wBKesJeUFwD0Nkl6YGyEAJltZSH7iManUL4ddAFspq3bDoM6zEo0Q4Lj2lgqLkJ9Q007vPuqi5EyonkfqPqE0iPc_vyeEZv7Sp8HzFmN0VO28Hl6FqlX9Df4PcoY/s1600/Kenny+Weekend+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1070" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1MwLz-m7wICFCJO9wBKesJeUFwD0Nkl6YGyEAJltZSH7iManUL4ddAFspq3bDoM6zEo0Q4Lj2lgqLkJ9Q007vPuqi5EyonkfqPqE0iPc_vyeEZv7Sp8HzFmN0VO28Hl6FqlX9Df4PcoY/s400/Kenny+Weekend+011.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our favorite little mid-fielder in action!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKQn6gB-CxL3vkz6TLuRAwNcC87mvboCavbw9v0BrZW3RZiUsfQl7Xz_6v2eLP4oXN_1dOzQpNw0aSjDe7OueCgOF2x1gJUg3FTOoUNVNNlPl2vq9i5AxwCbMUL5lwv7wMSaP4rpmYuLE/s1600/Kenny+Weekend+026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKQn6gB-CxL3vkz6TLuRAwNcC87mvboCavbw9v0BrZW3RZiUsfQl7Xz_6v2eLP4oXN_1dOzQpNw0aSjDe7OueCgOF2x1gJUg3FTOoUNVNNlPl2vq9i5AxwCbMUL5lwv7wMSaP4rpmYuLE/s400/Kenny+Weekend+026.JPG" width="400" /></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB5eitpMxgrI72Ma1mmdIR3PyTAMfKpILErYtutOjhG7t7kYZ71HpNgXWMCMNUN9POWJ0ecwOG5r_ityLV5q8nsQOJQNd3nVl9XLedv1EfzUuAchH2YAeuIUHUBjwUxc4qKVcYX6ru7Dk/s1600/Kenny+sherpa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB5eitpMxgrI72Ma1mmdIR3PyTAMfKpILErYtutOjhG7t7kYZ71HpNgXWMCMNUN9POWJ0ecwOG5r_ityLV5q8nsQOJQNd3nVl9XLedv1EfzUuAchH2YAeuIUHUBjwUxc4qKVcYX6ru7Dk/s640/Kenny+sherpa.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kenny the Human Sherpa (for carrying humans)</td></tr>
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<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-5376884028410190422017-11-01T19:18:00.001-07:002017-11-01T19:18:51.229-07:00Wordless Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUkSe_2XM_VoFjBejt1Jbp4eDpBEp3lhwgNoXd7Y6LrZ449s6N1gmc699In-bqtOA0GAb6Ne0ioVN-yp4GoyDe_RtK0UEVt4zqwmvLrPtMVh2BTSvjuXm7a-MBDpwmI3rIpd8qaBapUQI/s1600/Staunton+River+October+030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUkSe_2XM_VoFjBejt1Jbp4eDpBEp3lhwgNoXd7Y6LrZ449s6N1gmc699In-bqtOA0GAb6Ne0ioVN-yp4GoyDe_RtK0UEVt4zqwmvLrPtMVh2BTSvjuXm7a-MBDpwmI3rIpd8qaBapUQI/s400/Staunton+River+October+030.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-86688928481439760382017-10-15T15:05:00.003-07:002017-10-15T15:05:51.287-07:00Fall Pumpkin Patch! One of my favorite days each year!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We tried another new pumpkin patch this year: Sneads Asparagus Farm. It. Was. Awesome!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was so much for the kids to do and the property was SO beautiful. So much of it reminded me of my parents' farm which they sold last summer to move to Virginia. Speaking of my parents, since they did move to Virginia, they were able to go to the Patch with us today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was 85 degrees so we enjoyed the Patch in shorts instead of jeans and fleecy sweatshirts, but I will keep enjoying these hot days for as long as we are lucky enough to have them!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here are a few pics. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOs3HesVwPHd7k4BkyHER1w7kABsgEzWxSccjlc-aGcgI_ALXN4kvYwmNFmJ29QyHaHFwET7DSGf4Hi17pfch2k6vjv_8EpRQj4JUxRqulEtiwPUe1bHiW23YyZ9r_aBDos5ToH96vsik/s1600/Pumpkin+Patch+Sneads+049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOs3HesVwPHd7k4BkyHER1w7kABsgEzWxSccjlc-aGcgI_ALXN4kvYwmNFmJ29QyHaHFwET7DSGf4Hi17pfch2k6vjv_8EpRQj4JUxRqulEtiwPUe1bHiW23YyZ9r_aBDos5ToH96vsik/s400/Pumpkin+Patch+Sneads+049.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-13313084483868183992017-08-28T17:23:00.002-07:002017-08-28T17:23:27.087-07:00Pirate Day in D.C.For our last big adventure of the summer, we took the kids on a pirate ship cruise in D.C.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4OU2hlaC0iHW3gL_8Tfyi8QVHejBGDTiaoRsIdgtjTC4Kd3Q8ZVXyaqhQqT4szC0xRC984ems2fRRUBCxCiJD6oKQKigNnyFOh_36B6Syu9OT_Xx_wIdTmtqyzp0i-4vgBxUiVS5maw/s1600/Pirate+Ship+%25285%2529+edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1065" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4OU2hlaC0iHW3gL_8Tfyi8QVHejBGDTiaoRsIdgtjTC4Kd3Q8ZVXyaqhQqT4szC0xRC984ems2fRRUBCxCiJD6oKQKigNnyFOh_36B6Syu9OT_Xx_wIdTmtqyzp0i-4vgBxUiVS5maw/s400/Pirate+Ship+%25285%2529+edit.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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They bought into the whole story that the pirates on the ship told them about the speedboat scurvy dog pirate who took the keys to the treasure chest. Down the Potomac from Georgetown, past the Kennedy Center we went.<br />
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Joseph followed on the map and realized that we had gone under the Memorial Bridge and that, on the map, was where the treasure chest was depicted. <br />
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Lo-and-behold, this is where the speedboat scurvy dog pirate caught up to us. The kid pirates blasted him with water cannons but he fled.<br />
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On the return trip, the kid pirates intimidated him so badly that he threw the keys back to the pirate ship and the kids were able to open the treasure chest and choose a prize. <br />
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It was so much fun, they forgot how hot they were. They even walked around Georgetown with me afterward so I could find macarons!EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-62356752739026799552017-08-18T14:19:00.002-07:002017-08-18T14:19:52.641-07:00Sunday Snapshot: Red Roll<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At a local conveyor belt sushi place, Joseph homed in on some of his favorite fish, tuna! Or, as he likes to call it, "red roll."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Abigail enjoyed veggies and a free dessert, brought out gratis because she is cute. </span><br />
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<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-48557221304320081892017-06-25T08:30:00.000-07:002017-07-07T08:32:53.122-07:00NYC 2017Thanks to a very amazing friend of Larry's, who was in our wedding and has a cat in need of cat-sitting at an upper-east side apartment, we got to spend our first week of the summer in NYC with the kids! We love that city. Love love love it. The kids got the hang of how to be little New Yorkers during this incredible week in the city.<br />
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There were only two things they couldn't get the hang of and one was not touching the bottom of their shoes all the time. You know, walk though the city, the subway, through garbage and then sit down and tuck your knees to your chest while rubbing your hands on the bottom of your shoes. They did this 10 times per day. (Although Joseph won The Gross Award when he was shopping for a souvenir car and was test driving it on the floor. As he knelt on the floor testing the vehicle, he sneezed and a sneeze ball flew out of his nose and landed on the floor by the toy car. As quick as a flash, he scooped it up with his finger and jammed it back into his mouth. I can't even.)<br />
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The other thing they couldn't get the hang of was being quiet in the apartment. Kids run everywhere. And they don't run like delicate predators such as cheetahs, barely whisking the floor. Nope. They run like scared prey such as elephants. <br />
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Those 2 troubles aside, we did have a blast though and even did new things that Larry and I have never done in the 20 trips we've made there over the years.<br />
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We spent one day at Snug Harbor on Staten Island. Despite the quick rain showers we encountered on the Ferry ride, the day quickly shaped up to be clear and beautiful. We enjoyed the Botanical Gardens, with a maze (complete with hedge maze, castle, and secret garden) and the Chinese Scholar's Garden. Also on the property was a 4-floor children's museum that was almost empty of children. I usually can't last 5 minutes in a children's museum, but we were able to let the kids explore this one at their own leisure. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnoJEbtGXBINHeJ37-zA0DwaHx9SRh0kxfReOWGpkEhwAGyYcuvyOcMMV0eul-PqAtZ65gya5lz6hFRNR8tP-7t7lCC-aTktNAyiOO6W_ZXKZZ37RLQO-uEz-Cw9zlzwp43M0xGa6pgpM/s1600/NYC+Snug+Harbor+061+printable.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnoJEbtGXBINHeJ37-zA0DwaHx9SRh0kxfReOWGpkEhwAGyYcuvyOcMMV0eul-PqAtZ65gya5lz6hFRNR8tP-7t7lCC-aTktNAyiOO6W_ZXKZZ37RLQO-uEz-Cw9zlzwp43M0xGa6pgpM/s400/NYC+Snug+Harbor+061+printable.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKTY7X4t_w4sU5VihHvekZAjTf2hf7EDnzo6G5FH_wbafGfOQKW6_Jc-wY5opEHo_WLjVBhyphenhyphen4DnlHU4y53ITrTAmN34csdWngovHkL0gmYjbL0Y6o2Z7gYdxWuKMcsBJTeaIoekCp5WbY/s1600/NYC+Snug+Harbor+010+edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1068" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKTY7X4t_w4sU5VihHvekZAjTf2hf7EDnzo6G5FH_wbafGfOQKW6_Jc-wY5opEHo_WLjVBhyphenhyphen4DnlHU4y53ITrTAmN34csdWngovHkL0gmYjbL0Y6o2Z7gYdxWuKMcsBJTeaIoekCp5WbY/s400/NYC+Snug+Harbor+010+edit.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The rainy Ferry ride to Staten Island</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigozUzOOurAMKAm_n-ZOZuO4vcVYVGKCedpDppm5L6eUKhfa9l1iyG-PIcLoHv3ZV6ko2YLKIqdFE2fmuTN1whDF_RhAbQn1decuJywokAiDkpNHo88Ibwrv_TQ8sTiFIuqTzfWc7wO44/s1600/NYC+Snug+Harbor+050+Surly+Joe.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigozUzOOurAMKAm_n-ZOZuO4vcVYVGKCedpDppm5L6eUKhfa9l1iyG-PIcLoHv3ZV6ko2YLKIqdFE2fmuTN1whDF_RhAbQn1decuJywokAiDkpNHo88Ibwrv_TQ8sTiFIuqTzfWc7wO44/s400/NYC+Snug+Harbor+050+Surly+Joe.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joseph's expression!!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil1MYSmJWMzWHAHcY2xxNCjqo1WuZEbb283Qgo2OBVNp7PHzXNAOqgLvaWmL8vV1YzY9Cx3osxUmYGgK2BARn1OhmW3bwXjnAjC-Hm4nqX8_mQOtTAbdO179KYyog7vWSeXP9jYJbbmMA/s1600/NYC+Snug+Harbor+Chinese+Garden+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1139" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil1MYSmJWMzWHAHcY2xxNCjqo1WuZEbb283Qgo2OBVNp7PHzXNAOqgLvaWmL8vV1YzY9Cx3osxUmYGgK2BARn1OhmW3bwXjnAjC-Hm4nqX8_mQOtTAbdO179KYyog7vWSeXP9jYJbbmMA/s400/NYC+Snug+Harbor+Chinese+Garden+%25281%2529.jpg" width="283" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpuE0Yt9d8IRgqdfp50bUZFrBQcowcYBMAfmvlcJmDN0VTV1DYbTK9PSSl9R2a-GlsWyzh4saagQSyOmYhzAvHmc6_r65ejvi4ZdKI8A1CZi7_cfzLjBBSLpjlV5Wjiyfuvn4V7Xt_wBQ/s1600/NYC+Snug+Harbor+guards.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpuE0Yt9d8IRgqdfp50bUZFrBQcowcYBMAfmvlcJmDN0VTV1DYbTK9PSSl9R2a-GlsWyzh4saagQSyOmYhzAvHmc6_r65ejvi4ZdKI8A1CZi7_cfzLjBBSLpjlV5Wjiyfuvn4V7Xt_wBQ/s400/NYC+Snug+Harbor+guards.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_MUUjKXVcfwG1d02UOI5ipc2uExQriuBQfXSh2D3ZQxIAbhcJ_T4oMkhPB8Ksay1L0xEawRispzHhPi0LtZvEzTi7MgXC2kXW-jXpqTmV-7wxAfhqfD5YjUDXG25hYrd6vO598u4NCkI/s1600/NYC+Snug+Harbor+Maze+Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_MUUjKXVcfwG1d02UOI5ipc2uExQriuBQfXSh2D3ZQxIAbhcJ_T4oMkhPB8Ksay1L0xEawRispzHhPi0LtZvEzTi7MgXC2kXW-jXpqTmV-7wxAfhqfD5YjUDXG25hYrd6vO598u4NCkI/s400/NYC+Snug+Harbor+Maze+Collage.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Read the plaque. The maze was like the dreams of<br />
my childhood for a secret garden like this.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaoEzwzhN6U1rZmepC4_RobiBzemhqOlBNHwrl8VMEHRNVHmM2cx1n6TkOQHK-xinTqrDoLJtAb3u8Bp_kjJfb_NJnBRdSGoVL1JMPyF8sAdi5oQ752ZuCCUD2gvK7zVwQPKOyzcGJIXU/s1600/NYC+Snug+Harbor+Monkey+See.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaoEzwzhN6U1rZmepC4_RobiBzemhqOlBNHwrl8VMEHRNVHmM2cx1n6TkOQHK-xinTqrDoLJtAb3u8Bp_kjJfb_NJnBRdSGoVL1JMPyF8sAdi5oQ752ZuCCUD2gvK7zVwQPKOyzcGJIXU/s400/NYC+Snug+Harbor+Monkey+See.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He adores her. </td></tr>
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The kids also got to pick shows to see. Abigail picked Wicked again. (It is her 3rd time to see it in 10 months!) Joseph picked the Gazillion Bubble Show. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihU0icaH89ZTEd19Pf9OfWQz02je0TsoNCyRw4LPcx9cmTvPdg0Y1pfd-ak2W3Ri1TL5sAHyGfn1AkzW8YBIoPoeWZ3EvMaMLOTQrgx-Bd8iYvnkee1alPoqj5CEzUJ_4PcYzNl_qpLZk/s1600/NYC+Gazillion+Bubbles+Day+%25286%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1070" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihU0icaH89ZTEd19Pf9OfWQz02je0TsoNCyRw4LPcx9cmTvPdg0Y1pfd-ak2W3Ri1TL5sAHyGfn1AkzW8YBIoPoeWZ3EvMaMLOTQrgx-Bd8iYvnkee1alPoqj5CEzUJ_4PcYzNl_qpLZk/s400/NYC+Gazillion+Bubbles+Day+%25286%2529.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhht_5eeUCLOSISziWnUg2JPl5ipgwcSkMIS8NkK9cyNNcTY300TDgs1aqYMdaurUX_zTvR3zwbtf1wUpesnwpozg8zOeLCbCOYAzlLgxz6TH7B0jIdOXemF2QehU32aL3qfy59027nRi8/s1600/NYC+Gazillion+Collage+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhht_5eeUCLOSISziWnUg2JPl5ipgwcSkMIS8NkK9cyNNcTY300TDgs1aqYMdaurUX_zTvR3zwbtf1wUpesnwpozg8zOeLCbCOYAzlLgxz6TH7B0jIdOXemF2QehU32aL3qfy59027nRi8/s400/NYC+Gazillion+Collage+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't have a great concept of large powers of 10,<br />
but there really might have been a gazillion bubbles.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrNtUYYYVh5_e_aha3zc_OIl25bJx6FGy7Z3D0yukom8PJoq5P_H6eAYlwQ6OcmSxFuL-Dir86GldlFM9jwVr3DhuyyVHPRidlnTm1UeTZhg2I1_uMPqA4TUrqkJaRuwl_3yLGrm5qp3o/s1600/NYC+Wicked+Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrNtUYYYVh5_e_aha3zc_OIl25bJx6FGy7Z3D0yukom8PJoq5P_H6eAYlwQ6OcmSxFuL-Dir86GldlFM9jwVr3DhuyyVHPRidlnTm1UeTZhg2I1_uMPqA4TUrqkJaRuwl_3yLGrm5qp3o/s400/NYC+Wicked+Collage.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Another fun pastime in NYC is to eat. We love going to the Greenwich Village/ Lower Manhattan area for this sort of thing. If you are going to NYC and want to know where to go, my suggestion is that you just walk down Macdougal Street and around NYU. However, I do not recommend you ever let a child buy a "firecracker junior" from a Mr. Softee ice cream truck. The picture on the truck is of a small popsicle thing, but in actuality, it is a giant sticky mess.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFIXDihr6aBoL3nQrbRTS__6b1PbhHtJkKoDHEbS1t8VW5tfquIzgvypyJzNp1K9TQE5zl47DVbHvLRQG6lSrVI8DAcoWNbtdCZhvqH6mVAFIBKxa2V2-JkdajmBbRLO3trXvU-2fMhSQ/s1600/NYC+Firecracker+Junior.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFIXDihr6aBoL3nQrbRTS__6b1PbhHtJkKoDHEbS1t8VW5tfquIzgvypyJzNp1K9TQE5zl47DVbHvLRQG6lSrVI8DAcoWNbtdCZhvqH6mVAFIBKxa2V2-JkdajmBbRLO3trXvU-2fMhSQ/s400/NYC+Firecracker+Junior.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Never again.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuKafOeXch6x_Qg_IpuvLtQFFrotSYlWh9Sju9dGAngMJm6q9TqII0B_52UT-bmb_-I7lIgJ3eH46kgp5EMJTFxUxF4Ty-6qSkuoZXDlz8aWV1RRPdWCFGS5-09yt-PagKMJI1kIxk-sk/s1600/NYC+Pomme+Frittes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1068" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuKafOeXch6x_Qg_IpuvLtQFFrotSYlWh9Sju9dGAngMJm6q9TqII0B_52UT-bmb_-I7lIgJ3eH46kgp5EMJTFxUxF4Ty-6qSkuoZXDlz8aWV1RRPdWCFGS5-09yt-PagKMJI1kIxk-sk/s400/NYC+Pomme+Frittes.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pomme Frites</td></tr>
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We also enjoyed time playing in Central Park.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1eLjQNI8w6DYR5U1hcmvNbZYYfDu4ULqUWxwqa6mlB-fIeYXwbvauARYSb1-85xHVfrL6A2TkwAAW9aFIsreScHG4Fl8FQd3rRfVC0Y8B1PjVyytUxhmW9Nr7WcbajxiuaqOyPc14occ/s1600/NYC+Playground+edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1065" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1eLjQNI8w6DYR5U1hcmvNbZYYfDu4ULqUWxwqa6mlB-fIeYXwbvauARYSb1-85xHVfrL6A2TkwAAW9aFIsreScHG4Fl8FQd3rRfVC0Y8B1PjVyytUxhmW9Nr7WcbajxiuaqOyPc14occ/s400/NYC+Playground+edit.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB4pMowXUFWDAnr-g-wNhn_5HIDMPHxKqBmWcPy3_srxIISrhLGSe8JoS9t7hr7cfP_zVqAP1qGdQyb1ROglQXd7bFswvtHIfxMBjXHpDabOP_VkdxNNwamVlesr8DBgEnMPAJK_WtpS4/s1600/NYC+Rowboat+%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB4pMowXUFWDAnr-g-wNhn_5HIDMPHxKqBmWcPy3_srxIISrhLGSe8JoS9t7hr7cfP_zVqAP1qGdQyb1ROglQXd7bFswvtHIfxMBjXHpDabOP_VkdxNNwamVlesr8DBgEnMPAJK_WtpS4/s400/NYC+Rowboat+%25284%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg32MUOw7Dp3VNC7X7uGaZUaphqdLfwBNFrg6dlFRcYlthOf07voe_WCgtSx6j6ll_iFk0VKIYULrH6_mc0-1TZhKmJs1VZiTw4hCUjZS-jDd77M4KW3Ib8jdIVZbDxKffCnGRcaJd1BbM/s1600/NYC+Rowboat+printable.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg32MUOw7Dp3VNC7X7uGaZUaphqdLfwBNFrg6dlFRcYlthOf07voe_WCgtSx6j6ll_iFk0VKIYULrH6_mc0-1TZhKmJs1VZiTw4hCUjZS-jDd77M4KW3Ib8jdIVZbDxKffCnGRcaJd1BbM/s400/NYC+Rowboat+printable.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abigail was our coxwain on this trip.<br />Her directions were "Leftish. More middleish. <br />Leftish then straightish."</td></tr>
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We also went to the Natural History Museum. We saved the Gem and Mineral Room for last because it is my favorite but I wanted to make sure the kids got to see the exciting other things like dinosaur bones and animals and things about outer space. But in the Gem and Mineral Room they got a 2nd wind and it ended up being their favorite thing in the museum.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9RkR8fUO1VBeKqF_ADRtK3QJCcd_xDQ6lOhauWMKph9hizld3Tp8MlTByzlPOwhg2CN8nqeITMeTBvIVQBPbcpzZS4sTpFHPlvFlVjAfn3C-wgFOwykRsPObeS4J4DigkMlm9TimzaG4/s1600/NYC+Skull+Basher+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9RkR8fUO1VBeKqF_ADRtK3QJCcd_xDQ6lOhauWMKph9hizld3Tp8MlTByzlPOwhg2CN8nqeITMeTBvIVQBPbcpzZS4sTpFHPlvFlVjAfn3C-wgFOwykRsPObeS4J4DigkMlm9TimzaG4/s400/NYC+Skull+Basher+%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He was indignant that I said a Head Butting dinosaur<br />
was his ancestor. This was 3 minutes after he (accidentally) bashed<br />
me with his skull. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi91MM-zFhVpNRtkaunsxBlQcHnJ8nwMcjSNJppCaVp2juhlvd73r5Un4XekYw-N4qfdYk4WK5e_okn-RMlaf1V_z4CHrZoMFlM2M8h5fqjpbFz6fXebUn1bwGnvsnRmeDCaMWAlIeWuKo/s1600/NYC+Thinking+Girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1068" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi91MM-zFhVpNRtkaunsxBlQcHnJ8nwMcjSNJppCaVp2juhlvd73r5Un4XekYw-N4qfdYk4WK5e_okn-RMlaf1V_z4CHrZoMFlM2M8h5fqjpbFz6fXebUn1bwGnvsnRmeDCaMWAlIeWuKo/s400/NYC+Thinking+Girl.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh my god she cracks us up!</td></tr>
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The kids were exhausted but said they loved "living" in NYC.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgULHpFNJKkUki7CBewyp6kG3UVYjkJFZFce9OsrWiwfSI7OBrsTVyLDTqxgJfnZLTTz8D79xpmIYltw39jlNH07lKDi34ZPS3J4iZcoVRL-gr0bRybIjhfJ2cTyZ1VbI53Xl8BE_C_RTo/s1600/NYC+SUbway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgULHpFNJKkUki7CBewyp6kG3UVYjkJFZFce9OsrWiwfSI7OBrsTVyLDTqxgJfnZLTTz8D79xpmIYltw39jlNH07lKDi34ZPS3J4iZcoVRL-gr0bRybIjhfJ2cTyZ1VbI53Xl8BE_C_RTo/s400/NYC+SUbway.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLk2KsXTzx1UO8igFqAtdTIrtq-pFAp50iznGNFGSZ0C-wzEx-NHH-h3B3okpCJEL4MTpOmRLzMknD3dpPFs5mXY-VrIx3jMs03MlX9iXZsT1DTBhkoFH6YeRlByGa4Lfga3LbcxdK7rc/s1600/NYC+Tired.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLk2KsXTzx1UO8igFqAtdTIrtq-pFAp50iznGNFGSZ0C-wzEx-NHH-h3B3okpCJEL4MTpOmRLzMknD3dpPFs5mXY-VrIx3jMs03MlX9iXZsT1DTBhkoFH6YeRlByGa4Lfga3LbcxdK7rc/s400/NYC+Tired.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-15383180829276440922017-03-26T06:20:00.000-07:002017-03-26T06:20:57.794-07:00Hanami 2017<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I have said before that the holidays and traditions of family provide structure and rhythm for our lives. They are comfortable. They help us understand the passage of time. They ground the kids in family. And they are FUN!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This weekend, after a Pi-Day snow storm stunted and killed approximately half of the early blooms and shocked the plants that had begun to emerge in late February, we had a 78 degree day and our yearly Hanami Party at Jim and Steph's. Asian food was out all day (sushi, noodles, dim sum, octopus, miso soup, beef and bok choy, grilled meat-on-a-stick, squid, nori snack), Japanese beer and wine from Jim's vineyard (pure traminette!!) was flowing. The kids were playing in the "sand box", swinging in the hammocks and on the giant tree swing. We all talked and ate and played with the kids and caught up on our lives because even though we only live 30 minutes apart, we haven't all been together since the Super Bowl.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik4rzmVHHxmrKEElJ5eBXlbzauwy4kof31IrA0qIHe1OPhs99V8-jbkc_tnz5__JPG-XxwMWiv7D9hrdy3GMlFCxLARwLV8cYp83vqFJJkNgMVPwYYzbpii7jYOST4-lXg-h7nTVZ0By4/s1600/Hanami+Day+023+4x6+crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik4rzmVHHxmrKEElJ5eBXlbzauwy4kof31IrA0qIHe1OPhs99V8-jbkc_tnz5__JPG-XxwMWiv7D9hrdy3GMlFCxLARwLV8cYp83vqFJJkNgMVPwYYzbpii7jYOST4-lXg-h7nTVZ0By4/s640/Hanami+Day+023+4x6+crop.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Family pic</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwW5UY4ncQbRK29R3I7DR1OIo3Kutt9eY6DjKOWIDMEvpbS8uwShQ0QtZKjz0VPSQzK4IdyAilJ9YKSorwLtgGkgWqPiI5HqMDOHruodWRhpxqe6Ttyr5VApwEq0XOVYeDuMHh2heIWE/s1600/Hanami+Day+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwW5UY4ncQbRK29R3I7DR1OIo3Kutt9eY6DjKOWIDMEvpbS8uwShQ0QtZKjz0VPSQzK4IdyAilJ9YKSorwLtgGkgWqPiI5HqMDOHruodWRhpxqe6Ttyr5VApwEq0XOVYeDuMHh2heIWE/s400/Hanami+Day+015.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She picked all of the kiwi and strawberries out of the fruit salad</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEOHW40b_XS-WeEkitkHfv7fw4WdBUFMIqUzkE-m5c4UB7YbEPA1qq8a8xBYM47NykUaZ8zTPvU7IM-0dCPLCirIDPUMQWLf0m5YdjiBnOidwycWlkJ5lm-lAH_PYnsB1WKDxJ4EG5dNc/s1600/Hanami+Day+050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEOHW40b_XS-WeEkitkHfv7fw4WdBUFMIqUzkE-m5c4UB7YbEPA1qq8a8xBYM47NykUaZ8zTPvU7IM-0dCPLCirIDPUMQWLf0m5YdjiBnOidwycWlkJ5lm-lAH_PYnsB1WKDxJ4EG5dNc/s400/Hanami+Day+050.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aunt Steph helped Abigail with some origami<br />
after it got dark</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH_UHfCvMDsQuRkQh9-LqKs__nWA8jUc6hxFSejII4FKVv7gT6kHk-kZaPBgcms8qGlTDx4VffcjU-O_BnCk1Y_mWUANqnJ4H0G0N59TOBdRSNjc7k2Dos4DWssQx1lji9B1CHEk832Uk/s1600/Hanami+Day+063+crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH_UHfCvMDsQuRkQh9-LqKs__nWA8jUc6hxFSejII4FKVv7gT6kHk-kZaPBgcms8qGlTDx4VffcjU-O_BnCk1Y_mWUANqnJ4H0G0N59TOBdRSNjc7k2Dos4DWssQx1lji9B1CHEk832Uk/s400/Hanami+Day+063+crop.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The kids under a blooming cherry<br />
tree right after the sun set</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Epm0MuxIxDZmpFzHwvpPlC_yWd1uZBO20xRLG5t5Va4f_l9Ng4E3A8k5m1aR-gUWs37eFaKTBw3427zEsIbOlCFZmMVC9Re_5l42YRGFcqozgebq65h1kQmd8GZBTFaYLHvCkR88yos/s1600/Hanami+Day+081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Epm0MuxIxDZmpFzHwvpPlC_yWd1uZBO20xRLG5t5Va4f_l9Ng4E3A8k5m1aR-gUWs37eFaKTBw3427zEsIbOlCFZmMVC9Re_5l42YRGFcqozgebq65h1kQmd8GZBTFaYLHvCkR88yos/s400/Hanami+Day+081.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Mama, whose toad is bigger?"</td></tr>
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EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714021489530151844.post-55218965712376520452017-03-26T05:12:00.001-07:002017-07-04T09:10:24.575-07:00Alexander Hamilton<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I detest 2nd grade homework. Having a kid in school has had quite an effect on my teaching. I assign so much less homework now that I ever had, and when I do need to assign homework I focus on quality over quantity and try to give my students a week to do it. This is because homework is a time drain on families. Abigail gets off the bus at 4 pm. She brushes her teeth and goes to bed at 7 pm, unless she has karate and it is more like 8 pm. This means that on a <b>good </b>night, we only have 3 precious hours with her and part of that time must be used for feeding and bathing. Putting homework in there frustrates her and us. She <strike>wants </strike>needs time to decompress, read, play, be outside, be a kid. We are lucky in the fact that she gets an assignment paper on Mondays and it is due on Fridays so at least we can spread it out and make it fit into our schedule as best as we can, but it still sucks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But if weekly 2nd grade homework sucks, one thing worse are the monthly projects. They are supposed to be month-long activities for a kid to immerse in one particular idea or another. Not all ideas were terrible. Write a letter to a far-away friend or relative and have them write a letter back? Ok. Make a diorama of an Indian village? Oh hell no. What are we learning other than air-dry clay stains hands the color of pueblo? Ugh, these projects make me want to scream. And sometimes I do, like this month, when the students had to research a person in history, read about them, make a poster-board about their life, dress like them, and do an oral presentation. Abigail instantly wanted to do Hamilton. (I wanted her to do a powerful woman in history since her curriculum is severely lacking them. All they get are Helen Keller and Rosa Parks: women overcoming adversity.) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Anyhow, back to Hamilton. We checked some children's books about Hamilton out of the library and read them. Abigail listened to the soundtrack to the musical with a new ear for the lyrics and asked a lot of questions. Every time we asked her if she wanted to dress up, she said no, she would do the presentation in her regular clothes. With our guidance and direction, she make a great timeline on her poster board. (This is where my screaming came in. She didn't know how to make a timeline and it took hours of our time to help her measure the board, divide it into sections, and watch her slowly and carefully print the important events she chose. Hours. This took hours. I wasn't screaming at her, I was screaming next to her about her teacher who assigns these supervision-necessary projects that are a time drain on our family every month. Not my best moment, but I am wise enough of my own defects to be sure parents have cursed me as the teacher of their children for one reason or another, so I'm over it.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Abigail thought about rapping the first song from Hamilton the musical for her class presentation, but after her sweet voice started "How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore..." Larry gently suggested that maybe she see if she is allowed to show a Youtube video from the performance instead. She got permission to do that and chose the Tony performance of the Battle of Yorktown. And, of course, the night before her presentation, Abigail announced the she did want to dress up after all. In breathless excitement she said "I want to dress up because I think everyone else is and I don't want to be the only one not dressed up but don't worry I thought of it in my head and I can put together a costume with only stuff we have around the house!"</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4B_5gMyO2-Jhy8l3J2vEYvPYGMvUUi6VAaAvaTPwxUlophXLTideVMvjsuuo2qO0pxMt-NuvVtAl_IvE9YyClf9bTgOGfby6fbXjFUoAre4YRyB21QTdGcDODWd84xtoW0zVnnUKO5P0/s1600/Abigail+Hamilton+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4B_5gMyO2-Jhy8l3J2vEYvPYGMvUUi6VAaAvaTPwxUlophXLTideVMvjsuuo2qO0pxMt-NuvVtAl_IvE9YyClf9bTgOGfby6fbXjFUoAre4YRyB21QTdGcDODWd84xtoW0zVnnUKO5P0/s400/Abigail+Hamilton+003.JPG" width="266" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Abigail in her costume that she put together<br />the night before her presentation, using her<br />boots and leggings she has only ever wore once<br />and the bamboo sword she got at the<br />Shaloin Temple in China</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The next day, Larry got coverage for his class and went across the street to see Abigail's presentation. He videoed it for me and she did so well! For 3 minutes she spoke on her topic with confidence and authority, which is a really big deal because she claims that she hates speaking in class. When she showed the video, her classmates were captivated and shouted that they wanted to see it again or that they wanted to see it on Broadway. Abigail was the cool kid for the day for having seen Hamilton in NYC already. She was beaming so much she was practically floating. </span><br />
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<br />EChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09612641175049498317noreply@blogger.com0