Candlemas is upon us. February 2 marks the day when candles are blessed in Catholic parishes and the day when all Christmas decorations are to be down. We took most of our Christmas decorations down just after the Epiphany octave, but I spent an hour this morning packing away nativity sets and Christmas books. 

In honor of Candlemas, the girls and I attempted to make candles. I ordered a beeswax candlemaking kit from Amazon. My husband and I discussed whether we should make small kid candles in fun colors or large natural beeswax candles that could be used in our candleholders. While the latter was significantly more expensive, we chose it because the kid candles simply would not have been used.  Besides, I had been wanting to try a tip found in Simplicity Parenting: Using the Extraordinary Power of Less to Raise Calmer, Happier and More Secure Kids by Kim John Payne. Payne recommends lighting candles at dinner to set an atmosphere of both calm and significance. Lighting taper candles we made ourselves would be quite special at mealtime.

Making candles from sheets of beeswax is quite simple. You cut the wick, press it into the wax on one side and roll the wax from that side to the other side. You must move slowly, letting the heat of your hand warm the wax slightly to prevent the beeswax from breaking. Meg and Clare had problems starting the candles, but once I began to roll the candles they were able to take over and finish. Their playdough skills clearly kicked in.

Candles are such a great start to liturgy. Candles are one of the first things children notice on the altar. Our three-year-old loves to count the candles that she sees at Mass. One of my first exposures to Catholicism came at an explanatory Mass in college. The visiting priest walked the many non-Catholics in the chapel through what each part of the Mass meant. At one point he stopped to discuss the candles. He said, "To produce light, the candle itself must be consumed--it must become less. The light of God's love will burn brighter in us as we are consumed--as we become less." Nearly twenty years later, I still remember that statement when I look at a candle. I am looking forward to Candlemas on Sunday and to watching our candles become less throughout the year.

Carl Sagan once said, "Every kid starts out as a natural-born scientist, and then we beat it out of them." There may be some truth to that. I know very few adults who claim an interest in science, but every preschooler I know adores science. In our area, the National Museum of Natural History is the place to go with preschoolers. Every child can name their favorite dinosaur on exhibit, they can have long discussions about what is included in the Ocean Hall, and they can tell you the scariest displays in the Mammal Hall. My children have a strange fascination with the Insect Zoo at the museum. Sure, there are butterflies, but my girls like the roaches and similarly off-putting bugs. Meg amazed an elementary school group one day by eagerly holding every nasty insect the docent offered her. The Natural History Museum is so popular it inspired one of Meg's birthday parties. Each craft table was based on a different section of the museum. 

That being said, the Natural History Museum is not always convenient.  We live quite close to the museum, but it can be a hassle to find a parking place.  Clare use to push her toy cars around very slowly and tell me that her cars were looking for parking. This pretend play was completely inspired by our trips to the Smithsonian museums. Other times we just don't have the energy to walk through an enormous museum. We are fortunate to have a great alternative when we are looking for a quieter natural science experience. Arlington County has two fantastic nature centers: Long Branch Nature Center and Gulf Branch Nature Center.

Meg and Clare love both nature centers but we might have a slight preference for Gulf Branch. Clare began attending the toddler nature classes offered at Gulf Branch when Meg was at preschool. The class would include a discussion of a topic appropriate to the season, a craft that related to the topic, and then a walk through the woods at the nature center. Every class also had to include a visit to the owl, who lives in an enclosed area beside the nature center. Soon we began taking Meg to the nature center on weekends to walk on the path through the woods or to play in the discovery areas. The discovery room at the Long Branch Nature Center is more obviously equipped for entertaining kids, but Meg and Clare enjoy the animal dress up clothes, coloring pages and puzzles available at Gulf Branch. They also love the dugout canoe kept in the basement of Gulf Branch, which children are allowed to crawl into. At both nature centers, Meg and Clare love to look at the snakes, turtles and frogs. I've always had a paralyzing fear of snakes and this activity has been a challenge for me. Caution with snakes is appropriate, but I did not want to pass the irrational part of my fear to my children. So, I would look at the snakes with Meg and smile. In my head, I would tell myself, "The anxiety will pass. The anxiety will pass." And in about 10-15 seconds, all of my physical symptoms of panic (the flight part of the fight or flight instinct) did pass. 

Now that both girls are in preschool, they look forward to going to the preschool nature classes together in the afternoons. They constantly ask me when the next class is schedule and, on the days we are attending the classes, that is all they can talk about.

The love of science may have been beaten out of me, as Carl Sagan says, but I'm happy to report that having toddlers and preschoolers quickly brings it back. I've enjoyed these trips to the nature centers as much as the girls. We've learned about owls, cicadas, pumpkins, bears, and so much more. We went to a bonfire at Gulf Branch, where the girls made and ate their first s'mores (see picture above). These trips have also added to our goal of making the most of every day. Learning about the changes in nature during each season has allowed us to observe those changes and recognize the different gifts that each season gives us. 

Last year Meg began making her own books. She would draw pictures and then dictate a story for me to write beside each picture, We would punch holes in the paper and use string to tie the pieces together. On at least one occasion Meg took one of her books for preschool "show and share." Her beloved teacher announced to the class that Meg was an author and an illustrator, Meg then began telling everyone she encountered that she was an author and illustrator and the bookmaking continued in our household. 

Inspired by a favorite resource of mine, Playful Learning: Develop Your Child's Sense of Joy and Wonder by Mariah Bruehl, we stepped up our bookmaking today. After folding about five sheets of white copy paper in half, we covered them with a piece of cardstock which served as a cover. We stapled the paper and cardstock together with three staples at the fold and then covered the staples with electrical tape in fun colors. The project worked beautifully and the girls immediately began working on their masterpieces.

Clare, who had chosen a blue cover for her book, drew lots of flowers on that cover and wrote her name in the center of it. She then wrote "words" on each page of the book. As she said, "My words all look like M." Clare can write a few real words (she amazed me recently by making a card for me on her own and writing "mom" with no assistance). But she also likes to pretend she's writing at an advanced pace and these words come out as "mmmmmmmm." 

Meg chose a fluorescent green cover and entitled her masterpiece "Fairies of the Sweetness Flowers."  She then (with some spelling help from me) wrote, "Illustrator: Meg" and "Author: Meg."  Yes, she still remembers the pride she felt when her teacher called her an author and illustrator and she is still making sure she identifies herself as both.  

Is there anything sweeter than hearing your husband teach your children? This morning as I was upstairs getting ready to go to Mass, I could hear my husband working with three-year-old Clare on sounding out words. She had brought a rhyming word workbook to him and he patiently helped her work through the words. I listened from upstairs absolutely charmed. 

A few weeks ago I heard my husband reading Princess Bunny to the girls. This Sleeping Beauty-inspired bunny book is a favorite of Meg and Clare's. They even dress like Princess Bunny by putting on their bunny ear headbands from Easter with their princess dress-up clothes. There is absolutely nothing masculine about this very, very girlish book. Every word of the book must have been painful to my husband, but he willingly read it...and that's what made it so sweet. 

I am always quick to point out to my husband those times when he is ignoring the girls or not being quite as helpful as he could be. I am not as good at telling him how wonderful I find these quiet moments when he puts aside his interests and focuses solely on them. It must be so hard on him.  He is the only male in the house with a wife and three daughters. This experience comes after being raised in a family with no sisters and attending an all boys high school. His home life now consists of tea parties, princesses and fairies. But he's put his own stamp on things. He is teaching the girls about his favorite topic--the liturgical calendar--and they often ask, "What special day [i.e., saint day] is it today?" Clare can tell you that her favorite Star Trek character is Dr. McCoy, while Meg's favorite is Spock. Both girls are able to give me updates on the Patriots after watching the football game with daddy for awhile. He may be at a loss to understand the females of the house at times, but daddy is still holding his own. 

My husband has observed that all of my favorite activities are heavily attended by retirees. Several years ago I begged him to take me to a performance of Agatha Christie's The Mousetrap. He enjoyed it, but noted we were the youngest in the audience by about 30 years. A year or two later, we attended, at my request, a performance of Sabrina at a playhouse in Rhode Island and discovered again we were significantly younger than the other audience members. These experiences came to mind as I sat at the Burns Night tasting, hosted by Green Springs Gardens in Alexandria, Virginia, surrounded by senior citizens. That being said, I loved it. 

I first heard about Burns Night, or Burns Supper, just a few weeks ago. I was reading the Twitter feed of a UK restaurant which mentioned it as an upcoming event. I had no idea what it was so I looked up Burns Supper on Wikipedia and learned that it was a Scottish celebration of the life and work of favorite Scotsman Robert Burns on January 25 each year. Because I've always been interested in my Scottish heritage (and this interest has increased since giving birth to my Scottish-looking redheaded children), I tried thinking of ways to incorporate this tradition into our family celebrations. Perhaps we could have a tea party (a favorite past time of my girls) with Scottish treats and read preschool-friendly poetry. Perhaps we could make a Scottish craft--like the St. Andrew Cross flag. Then, by chance, I discovered that Green Springs Gardens, just a few miles from my house, was hosting its own Burns Night. I decided that our family tea party could wait a year and I would first do research by making this Burns Night celebration my first solo fun trip out since having Baby Anne. 

Rather than a full Burns Supper, the event at Green Springs Gardens was a tasting. Haggis is the key part of the Burns Supper. It is presented and cut as Burns' poem Address to a Haggis is read. Specifically, we learned at the tasting that the haggis is cut into while reading the lines: "An' cut you up wi' ready sleight,/Trenching your gushing entrails bright." (Wow, that's appetizing.) At the tasting, a small portion of haggis was served on a slice of potato while we drank tea and nibbled on shortbread, oatcakes, and Scottish heather fudge. I enjoyed all of this while chatting with the lovely elderly attendees of the event. My research was accomplished since prior to the tasting there was an enjoyable talk on Scotland, Robert Burns and the Burns Supper. I do believe we will incorporate some fun version of Burns Night into our family celebrations in the future. But with Saint Brigid's Day coming up next Saturday (February 1), I suppose an Irish celebration is next. 

Clare takes great comfort in books. You can barely make her out in the picture to the left, but this is a typical scene: Clare snuggled under a blanket asleep with a pile of books on top of her. This past weekend, she began running a slight fever (quite unusual for her). Her solution to "being sick" was to pile fifteen books on top of my bed, situate herself in the midst of all the pillows and allow my husband and me to take turns reading to her. 

Clare only goes to preschool two days a week, so on the mornings when Meg is at school but Clare is not, we often find ourselves at the library. On Mondays we might go to the Shirlington branch of the Arlington County library just to read books and check out a few for home. On Wednesdays and Fridays we go to the Central Library for storytime. 

The storytimes at Arlington County Public Library are superb. We have tried numerous storytimes at various bookstores, but few come close to the excellent library presentations. The librarians use music, rhymes and even flannelgraphs to keep the children focused on the book theme of the day. Clare, who can be painfully shy at times, has come alive in these sessions. When we first began attending storytime, she would sit in my lap and rarely participate in any way. Now she sits on her own carpet square, sings along with the songs, attempts any actions that accompany the rhymes and songs, and never hesitates to yell out a response to the librarian's questions. I now watch her from the side of the room (where I attend to Baby Anne) and feel proud of each tiny step of independence she takes. 

I hope these storytimes will remain special to Clare for a long time. Meg has already deemed storytime for babies and refuses to go no matter how much we try to explain that there are different storytimes for each age group. I hope Clare won't be influenced by that. Periodically Clare will say, "I wish I lived in the Hundred Acre Wood." She very much wants to turn our back patio into Mr. McGregor's garden. In the library she visits all her favorite books: Madeline and the Cats of Rome and the McDuff books. Books are a comfort to her sensitive little soul and I hope they remain a comfort throughout her life. 

Snow days have their virtue. In the midst of a busy week, there is nothing better than a surprise snow day for sleeping in and making pancakes. Snow days are also great for making Narnia-esque pictures (see picture to the left). Yes, since moving to Fairlington, I've dreamed of taking a snowy picture with these wonderful lampposts in honor of the Chronicles of Narnia and I finally took the picture today. Still, I'm done with snow days. 

Last Friday, preschool was cancelled for a teacher work day. Monday was Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. Then the snow hit. The school closed on Tuesday and Wednesday due to snow. Sadly, with the long weekend, we were already out of things to do around the house and everyone was already a little bit tired of each other. The girls have squabbled. My husband has tried to work from home, while kids screamed and I tried to work around him. We've all desperately wanted to get out of the house. 

Sure, we were able to play in the snow a bit. It took us ten minutes to put on snow pants, two pairs of socks, boots, coats, hats, and mittens. Clare lasted about three minutes before she decided it was too cold and went back inside (this happened both days). Meg likes the snow much better. She ran up and down the hill of our front yard until our neighbors' children all came out of their houses to play with her. But even Meg could only last a short time in the 19 degree weather. And so it was back inside with little to do and even less motivation to do anything. It is the lethargy that is getting to us. 

Here's hoping that we are back to school and all things normal tomorrow. If Meg and Clare spend the morning in their separate preschool classes, playing with their friends (whom they haven't seen in a week), then we will enjoy the afternoon together so much more. 

Today is the feast day of Saint Anthony of the Desert, an early ascetic in the early Church and one of the Desert Fathers. Two years ago, when I was beginning my mission to make every day the best it could be, I somehow discovered this saint day and decided to do something special.  An Internet search led me to a recipe for Saint Anthony of the Desert soup that had been published in Brother Victor-Antoine d'Avila-Latourrette's From a Monastery Kitchen. I decided to not only make the soup, but to make a very simple wheat bread from scratch (my recipe was from another source) to pair with it. The barley-based soup was a hit with the whole family and Brother Victor-Antoine's recipes have been a part of our lives ever since. I've sent his books to friends and extended family and our immediate family depends heavily on his recipes during Lent. 

The bread, as I recall, did not turn out as well. It initially did not rise. My friend, Nicole, had her mom (an experienced bread baker) on the phone advising us. It turned out that the water I added to the yeast had been too hot. We made another yeast mixture, added it to the dough, and amazingly it did rise this time. Unfortunately, due to the delay, the bread did not finish baking until about 9:30 pm--well after dinner and well after the girls' bedtime. However, my husband enjoyed the late night, fresh out of the oven bread. 

This year, I am making the soup again and I am even attempting bread from scratch again. Clare has been wanting to make bread and I have been promising her for weeks that we would do it. I decided today was the day. The girls measured out the flour and salt. I nervously added the warm water with honey to the yeast, hoping the temperature was right.  We let our stand mixer do all the work of kneading (yes, I know that is cheating, but if you have a stand mixer, why not use it). And now we wait to see if this dough will rise.  

It might be a bit strange to designate a post about Lessons and Carols as Epiphany. The famous King's College, Cambridge, performance of Nine Lessons and Carols is on Christmas Eve. Many churches perform the collection of Christmas songs, scripture readings, and writings in the days leading up to Christmas. But at our parish a visiting choir performs the Ceremony of Lessons and Carols during the Epiphany octave. So for me, it's Epiphany.

I love  choral music and the performance of Lessons and Carols is a favorite of mine. Typically, it is my husband who occasionally escapes the household craziness of the evening for Mass. But when Lessons and Carols is performed, it is my turn to head to church and let him deal with dinner and bedtime preparations. This year I took Baby Anne with me just in case she needed to be fed.

Walking into a choral event with a 6 week old might not seem like the best idea. While babies at this age sleep a lot, you never know when they are going to let out a piercing scream. I assumed she would fall asleep in the car during the drive to our parish and remain sleeping throughout the performance. But she surprised me by being quite awake when I pulled her out of the car and very alert when we walked into the church. So as I chose a seat, I mapped out my quickest exits and hoped that Anne's apparent affinity for choral music was real and would kick in. 

During Anne's birth and in the early days of her life, I listened to the music of the Benedictines of Mary, Queen of Apostles. It didn't take us long to notice that Anne often stopped crying when I played the nun's Advent from Ephesus album. The music must have been sublimely peaceful to her in contrast to the constant screaming, running and poking of her two older sisters. So I sat in the pew hoping that Lessons and Carols would prove equally peaceful to her.

Our parish, St. Rita Church in Alexandria, Virginia, has a very British look to it, making it the perfect setting for choral concert of Anglican origin. As the lights dimmed in the stone building and the choir began the processional, Once in Royal David's City, Anne settled quietly into my arms and I relaxed, confident that my baby was going to sleep and that I could be absorbed into the tranquil atmosphere that surrounded me. Soon my mind wandered, not to Bethlehem, but to my own house on Christmas Eve a few weeks earlier. My husband had gone to midnight Mass. Meg and Clare slept upstairs. I sat in my rocking chair with Anne looking at the white lights on our Christmas tree and listening to this same song. I had been preparing presents for Christmas morning but Anne had woken up and I was trying to calm her. Using my phone, I found a YouTube posting of the Nine Lessons and Carols at King's College and we gently rocked to the soothing music. I have a feeling Lessons and Carols will be a special tradition for Anne and me--always reminding me of these special early weeks in her life.

Epiphany was low key this year. A couple of years ago, we invited a priest over for a house blessing and prepared a feast to accompany it. (This was one of the few times the amount of food I prepared lived up to my husband's Rhode Island food quantity expectations. Funny how such a small state loves its large amount of food.) Other years we started the morning off with presents, such as The Three Wisemen set for the girls' Little People Nativity collection. I've also used Epiphany as a time to correct any Santa mess-ups (like realizing on Christmas morning that Clare also wanted a battery-operated kitten like the one Santa brought Meg). 

This year, Epiphany fell on the first day back to school. There would be no time for a present exchange in the morning (we rarely make it to school on time as it is) and Monday night of a school week was not a great time for a feast (not to mention an impending single-digit weather cold snap promised to keep any potential guests at their own home). So, it was a quiet Epiphany. While Meg was at school, Clare pulled out the full Little People Nativity set and created her perfect Little People world. She completed it by covering up a section with tissues. "What's the purpose of the tissues," I asked. "It's to hide them from Herod." 

Ah Herod...strangely, Clare has been obsessed with Herod this year. While we have four different nativity sets in our house, not a single one includes a Herod figurine (I'm guessing there's never been a nativity set that includes Herod). Ever creative, Clare found a plastic stork figurine and designated him Herod. I walked into the living room one day to see her having the Angel Gabriel give her stork Herod a lecture on how he shouldn't want to kill the baby Jesus. 

In the afternoon, I gave Meg and Clare each a book as their Epiphany present. In truth, these books were supposed to have been Christmas presents, but I had forgotten them in the top of my closet. This was a relief because, due to the new baby, I did not have much time for Epiphany present shopping. As temperatures dropped outside and the wind blew in a cold front, we snuggled up and read a beautifully illustrated version of Hans Christian Anderson's The Snow Queen. It wasn't a traditional way to spend Epiphany, but it was enjoyable.