Two pictures from the past month

For his birthday, Henry chose several adventures instead of a birthday party. He had a friend sleep over, went to the park on his own with his big neighbor friend, went to a baseball game, and went to the Renaissance Faire with his dad. Here he is, posing with a giant wooden weapon.

A New Blogging Routine

Hello, loyal blog readers...
Times have changed. I no longer have perplexing little babies that I need to vent about every day. I've thought about bringing the blog to an end, but decided that I do love having a place to write about our family life on a semi-regular basis. So my new routine will be to blog once a month or so, to keep a record and some contact with my far-away loved ones about our daily lives.

So here are some reflections on the last month.
It's a new era! Henry is in school five days a week, all day, and although we expected him to be exhausted after school, he really isn't. He is absolutely thriving. I don't know that I've ever seen him so happy. He is singing, laughing, and cuddling with us more than ever. He gets up and puts his uniform on right away in the mornings (sometimes even on Sunday). He scooters a mile to school and back (usually) without complaint. He is reading voraciously, every street sign and poster and t-shirt he sees. We are so, so pleased to see him blossom like this, and although it could just be a developmental phase or coincidence, we do correlate it with his new school. One thing that has surprised me about the new school is the air of innocence there. I used to hear all about Transformers and superheroes; I even spoke with the teachers at his old school about it when he was three-- their philosophy was all peace and love! and yet all the playground talk was war and materialism. They shrugged and told me there was nothing for it. Yet now I don't hear anything about TV shows or new brands of processed treats. Instead, an example: Henry brought home the classroom teddy bear, Paddington, for the weekend last Thursday. Each child gets a turn; he came with his own blankets and changes of clothes, and a journal for us to write in about what we did with Paddington over the weekend. Henry tenderly carried him along to the store and out to lunch, and slept with him in his bed, and proudly wrote all about it in the journal to share on Monday. Interestingly, at the shoe store he left Paddington in the car, saying he didn't want the kids in the store to make fun of him. But clearly, school is a safe place for boys to love bears, even if the wider world isn't. I wonder if this atmosphere of innocence and love isn't contributing to the greater open-heartedness, laughter, and cuddliness we see in him.

Agatha is also in school until 3 pm on two days; the other three we pick her up at 11:30 am (trading off between Michael and me). For me, it's a perfect schedule, perhaps the best schedule in the six years that I've been a mom; I have long days in the office on Monday and Friday (usually), till 3 pm on Tuesday, and home with my girl on Wednesday and Thursday afternoons. I love the days when I realize hours have gone by and I have not thought of my children; and I also love the days when I can read Agatha her story for naptime and start dinner at 3 pm if I want to. I realize I am very, very fortunate.

Speaking of dinner, the other significant change in routine in the last month has been in our eating schedule. I went to an Ayurveda workshop a few weeks ago, mainly to support my friend who was giving it. But I came away with the vow to, as is customary in so many cultures, make lunch the main meal of the day as often as possible. On the weekends, we try to cook and eat the main meal before naptime. During the week, I pack the children large, healthy lunches when they're eating at school, and do the same for myself. Michael and I eat together on campus one day a week, and another day we pick up Agatha and take her out for Indian food lunch buffet. Even when it's a weekday and just Agatha and I are eating lunch at home, I try to make a nice meal and sit down to eat together (today it was a cheese omelet, arugula salad, bread, and a glass of local beer!). I still cook dinner in the evenings, but the pressure is off. Sometimes we have leftovers, sometimes I feed the children first and just eat lightly after they're in bed, sometimes we eat a "normal" dinner but because we are not all starving (and because I have decided that the family dinner is NOT the most important meal of the day) it is less stressful than it used to be. Lots of days I feed the children right after school, when they want to eat, instead of making them "wait for dinner." Then we might have a smoothie or fruit before bed, if they're hungry again. Whatever the supper plan, we try to eat early, by 5 pm. I sleep so much better, have more energy, and find the end of the day so much easier and more fun. I highly recommend it!

At bedtime, when I was tucking Henry in:
"Mom, turn on my light so you can look at my [lego] ship."
"That's awesome!"
"Do you like it?"
"I love it!"
"Mom, do you just say you like my things because you're trying to make me happy?"
(Considering) "Well, I am biased. Because I'm your mother, I think pretty much everything you make is great. But I could try to give you a more objective opinion, if you want."
"Yes, that's what I want. I want you to tell me which ones are really good, and which ones are not. In the morning, here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to separate all my ships into the ones that are awesome, the ones that are medium, and the ones that are not good."
"That's a good idea. You can use your own judgment."
"But I want your opinion too, Mom. And if we disagree about what category a ship should be in, I'll break it in half and put half of it in each category."

A Week of Big Events

You may have heard we had an earthquake and a hurricane here last week. Luckily, there is not much to report there: no damage from either event, not even much inconvenience.

Much more affecting events of last week were Henry's first day of kindergarten and Agatha's 3rd birthday. School is great and the transition has been smooth. He tells us very little about what goes on there, but when he does let something slip it sounds wonderful-- a beekeeper came to visit and explain about bees and each child got a piece of beeswax (or, as Agatha calls it, bee-whack); there was an obstacle course in gym class that involved swinging on ropes and jumping on bouncy springs; he made a picture in art class that had to incorporate a feather and a specific shape; he read a friend's book during "reading workshop"; in Spanish class if they get one more marble in their jar they get to play games all during the next class; and so on. Michael and I are taking turns accompanying Henry the one-mile ride to school on his scooter. We are among the very few who use non-petroleum-based transportation-- as a result, we are a charming novelty (so far). Today was the first that I went from home, to Henry's school, to Agatha's school, to work. The whole circuit (pushing Agatha in the stroller with Henry scootering alongside) took me about an hour and 10 minutes. I hope we can keep it up when the weather gets cold and wet. It is certainly good exercise!

First Day, coming and going

Agatha's birthday was also nice, and luckily we did not lose power because it happened at the tail end of the hurricane. Three of her small friends came over and we played, ate cake, opened presents, made some crowns, and dressed in silly outfits. Agatha and her friend Holly swanned around regally in their princess gowns, and Aggie got a spectacular castle to play with and her very own camera as presents. What a lucky girl!

Of course, the luckiest of all are Michael and me-- grateful every day for our beautiful, healthy children and the rich life we can provide them.

Big Three-Year Old Princess!

Brother and Sister

"I'm sorry. My brother's using it right now." This was Agatha to another child who wanted the shovel in a sandbox scrum the other evening. I'd never before heard her refer to Henry as "her brother" when speaking to another child. It's hard to put into words the warm and fuzzy feeling it gave me.

This has been the summer of becoming real playmates, maybe even friends. Earlier this week, they spent all afternoon building forts in Henry's room filled with pillows, blankets and stuffed animals which they were planning to sleep in. Henry chickened out at the last moment, choosing his comfy bed instead, but Agatha, undaunted, slept on the floor in his room. And did it again the next night. They took a night off last night, but this morning Michael heard Henry say, "Aggie, do you want to sleep together again tonight?"

Henry also takes responsibility for Agatha more lately. This week she's developed the habit of protesting when I (but not Michael!) drops her off at morning day camp. So on the way to camp today, Henry was instructing her in the back seat: "Now, when we get there, you don't whine or cry or say you're tired. You get out and walk in, and I'll see you later on the playground, okay? If you're tired, you should rest longer in your room, so you have good energy for camp." To which Agatha responded: "I'm tired."

Henry: "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. With the easy way, you get to walk in with me. With the hard way, you'll be crying and have to go in with the teacher. Which way do you want to do it?" Agatha: "The hard way." Henry, musingly: "I thought you were going to say the easy way." Mommy, thinking: Rookie mistake.

People have asked me if the kids will miss each other this year, not being at the same school anymore, at which I have always scoffed. But now I think they really might.

Dutch Wonderland

Back-to-back adventures

High Line Park, NYC

Looking respectable, at the Met in NYC

gorgeous boy

Klondike bar

gorgeous boy, part 2

gorgeous boy, part 3

super-Agatha, to the rescue?

The beach was great-- of course! The house was right on the beach, just over the dunes, and the water was warm, calm, and shallow (although kind of muddy). It was so comfortable, with a separate bedroom for everyone and even air conditioning and a dishwasher, and so quiet, in a tiny beach community between a huge wildlife refuge and the shore, that after a week I really wasn't ready to leave. We had visits from my mom, and from our friends Meagan and Mike and family, and the house accommodated us all, with beautiful tall windows looking out on the water and sky. Usually I'm eager to get back home, but this was the rare vacation where I could have stayed longer. We had such a nice routine of swimming in the morning, then having lunch and doing activities, crafts, or reading during the heat of the day, naptime, and then a late afternoon beach time, followed by dinner and an early bed. No media, no noise. It just felt so healthy and relaxing. When we first arrived and saw the amazing view and the beautiful house, I felt such a wave of pride that we could provide this experience for our children, and for ourselves. It's not glamorous or exotic-- just an ordinary bourgeois summer vacation-- but I loved it.

While we were there we got an email from a friend who lives in New York City, asking if we wanted to come and cat-sit for them while they were away. So we returned home (in a blistering heat wave) on Saturday; I canned 23 quarts of applesauce on Monday and Tuesday, and then we went to New York on Wednesday, staying till Saturday evening. New York was wonderful, of course, but unfortunately the kids chose that prime moment to develop stomach bugs. There were some gruesome nights. Oy! But we did what we came to do: saw the McQueen show at the Met (my former student who works there whisked us in without waiting in the hours-long line); met another former student for dinner way downtown at the seaport; even went to the Cloisters Museum uptown, where we'd never been before, and the new High Line Park. All very cool, and not particularly kid-friendly, except for the park and its excellent hipster popsicle stand. We stayed at a beautiful renovated loft in the Bronx, which felt quite friendly and safe. After a couple of days, people were greeting us like regulars. Of course, we did stand out quite a bit! Not only were we unusually pale and blond, but we were going around as a family unit, tourists, where most people were commuting to work or something. So we-- and the kids especially-- got a lot of attention, all of it positive.

As I'd noticed in May at the Philadelphia Art Museum, Henry is starting to actually enjoy (or at least, not completely hate) the museum. He lit up in the antiquities section, and we specifically took him to see the mummies, tombs, and Temple of Dendur. He recognized all the sphinxes in the antiquities, and then when we were walking past an Ingres in the 19th-century wing, he shouted "Another sphinx!" And it was-- a painting this time. And at the Cloisters (all medieval art; we sold it to the children by telling them we were going to a real castle, which it is, reassembled by Rockefeller in the 1930s) he liked finding all the "hidden" elements in the tapestries. But their tummies hurt and their tempers were short, and by Saturday afternoon we were spent. It was hard, hard work being in New York with two small, cranky people.

Frankly, I've just about had it with the family fun! Bring on the school year, please! In fact, first thing Monday morning, after our return home, I took the kids out shopping for backpacks and lunchboxes. Today, we bought Henry new shoes, and his uniforms should arrive on Friday. Just two scheduled family-fun excursions remain: tomorrow, Dutch Wonderland, and Saturday, a day trip to go canoeing and to an Amish country auction with friends (downsized from a camping trip, thank goodness). Then, it'll be two weeks of morning camp for the kids and back into the office for me! (hooray!!!)