Yesterday we played at our neighborhood park. It was cold (in the 30s) but sunny and we needed to get outside. There's nothing like a little sand and snow play.

As we were finishing at the park, Baby Anne decided she was done. Perhaps it was the occasional bitingly cold breeze. Perhaps she was just hungry. But by the time we got to the car, her cry had worked its way up to a scream.

It is a four minute drive from the park to our house and we prepared ourselves for four minutes of screaming. But on the off chance it might work, I began singing You Are My Sunshine. Anne is particularly responsive to music and she has a special fondness for You Are My Sunshine. At one of Clare's story times, the librarian led the children in singing You Are My Sunshine and Anne smiled the largest smile I had ever seen her smile.

As we drove home from the park, the song seemed to work its magic again. Anne quieted slowly. As I repeated the song for about the third time, Meg chimed in. I must admit that my initial response was annoyance. I was afraid Meg was going to break the spell I had over Anne and Anne would begin screaming again. But I held that annoyance in and adjusted my key to Meg's key and we kept singing. Soon Clare joined in and we sang You Are My Sunshine over and over again. Anne quietly listened.

I found myself nearly moved to tears at the sound of my little girls' voices singing to soothe their baby sister. I realized how close I came to missing that moment and I was so grateful I had not let my initial reaction ruin it. With the stress of a new baby in the family, it is so easy to respond with "Hush, don't wake the baby!" So often, the big sisters are just trying to help, while we are just trying to keep our sanity. What a gift those little bright voices were to me yesterday.

As you may have been able to tell from the pictures I have posted, Meg and Clare love to dress up. At home they are almost always in dress up clothes and away from home they often sneak some dress up items with them. I recently noticed in our Christmas pictures that Clare had taken the time to put on a tiara before coming downstairs to open Santa gifts.

Why all the dress up? I don't know why it so important, but it just seems an instinctive part of childhood. Before having a huge plastic tub full of dress up clothes as my kids do now, they would dress up in whatever they could find (often my scarves). On their own, they have created extensive imaginary worlds. For example, at least once a day one of the girls will say, "Uh oh. Uh oh. It's mousy mouse time." In sync, they will bend down and come up as mice. In this game, Meg is Mama Mouse, Clare is Baby Mouse and I am Grandma Mouse. I have no idea how or why this game was created but there is something so charming and timeless in watching kids entertain themselves in this way.



Recently I have read many resources inspired by the Waldorf educational method. While I don't know enough about Waldorf to speak to its merits, I do like the idea that toys need to be tools that inspire imaginary play that is led by the child, not the toy. For example, blocks that can be built in just one way (a way dictated by the manufacturer) would be much less desirable than a set of blocks that allows a child to use his or her imagination to create anything. Dress up clothes are best if they are just simple pieces the child can use in whatever way he or she wishes as opposed to a specific princess or other character. After all, kids can create some seriously awesome combinations.

I can't tell you why in child development terms all of these games of imagination are important, but I strongly believe that they are. Perhaps they expand creativity. Perhaps they help kids make sense of the world. Or perhaps they just let kids be kids.

But mostly the girls have spent the last 24 hours drawing. While at the craft store buying supplies for our projects yesterday, I bought Clare and Meg each a drawing notebook. There is nothing that better occupies my children than an artist pad. While I painted the bookshelf, they drew pictures of princesses, tigers and complicated road systems (not exactly sure where the last one came from). When Meg was having trouble going to sleep last night, she sat in her bed and drew pictures. When Clare woke up in the middle of the night (because she had fallen asleep at 5:45 pm), she grabbed her notebook and drew pictures. They drew pictures while eating breakfast. They drew pictures while eating lunch. Clare's most recent picture (below) is of a zombie. Yes, a zombie. She knows her dad likes zombie shows, so this is her idea of a zombie.

We took some time to play in the snow today and had fun getting some exercise, but for the most part everyone seems interested in staying warm, quiet and cozy. It's rather a nice way to spend the day. 

For the last week, we've been reorganizing. That meant some shifting of rooms and major furniture moving and then some fun nursery decorating. As soon as I get the crib up (Baby Anne still sleeps in her bassinet but she's outgrowing it quickly), I'll post pictures of our completed Paddington Bear nursery (which Meg charmingly refers to as the London Room). With all the projects in other parts of the house, Meg and Clare wanted to focus on their room today. 

Most of the work in Meg and Clare's room was done months ago. Because they share a room, we let them have the biggest bedroom when we moved into the house. It was painted a beautiful shade of green by the previous owners who, of course, used it as their master bedroom. While the green was slightly darker than I might have chosen for a little girls room, I decided to keep it because it worked well with purple and pink. 

In the months after we moved in, we purchased a large white dresser for the room. We then replaced the girls' toddler beds with white mission-style bunk beds. I found charming fairy quilts for their beds and that pretty much took care of their room...until today. 

Meg informed me last week that their dark, cherry wood-colored bookcase needed to be white. I agreed and we began the project today.

I emphasize that we began the project today. We need at least another coat of paint, but unfortunately I ran out of paint and need to purchase more. I decoupaged Victorian-inspired paper on the shelf because Meg is very into all things Victorian right now. 

Our next project was to repaint their names for their walls which we already had in wooden letters. Meg and Clare decided they wanted the letters in various shades of pink and purple. This afternoon I put Meg and Clare on the back porch and let them paint.

Yes, I did take that picture through a screen door. After setting up the project for them, I had to watch them from just inside the door while I held Baby Anne. I promised myself that I would let Meg and Clare paint their letters however they wanted to paint them and I would not try to improve upon them once they were through. I wanted this to be their project so they would be invested in their room. Happily, they both did a very good job painting and I have no hesitations in putting their finished product on their walls. 

Our final project today was adding Tinker Bell fairy stickers to their room. 

Meg and Clare had Tinker Bell wall decals on the walls of their room in our previous home. They recently decided that they missed having the stickers, so I found some more and added them to their walls. The girls, of course, had strong opinions on where each character should be placed and I tried to respect their wishes. 

So we've been very busy and their room is a mess because we must wait for the shelf to be finished before putting everything back on it. But I think Meg and Clare are very happy with the work we've done.

It was 64 degrees today and we celebrated the spring-like weather by apparently going to Corinth. Not really, of course. We went to the National Arboretum and hiked up to the Corinthian columns that were once part of the U.S. Capitol Building. The girls were mesmerized. As soon as Clare saw the columns from a distance she began demanding that we get to them as quickly as possible. She even had her map of the Arboretum grounds out trying to figure out the route.

Unbelievably, this was our first trip to the Arboretum. It is one of those places that is highly recommended on D.C. mom blogs and the families that we know who live in Northeast D.C. love it. But we've never been there before today. We only went today because I realized it had paved paths that the girls could run through without getting covered in the mud that is still everywhere. Now I can't wait to go back when everything is in bloom. A friend told me that it is breathtaking when the daffodils come up. We walked around one section that had mini-gardens, including a dyeing garden, a medicinal garden, and a fragrance garden. I can't wait to see that area when there are actually plants and flowers to observe. I am also looking forward to seeing the children's garden, which sounds like it was designed for my dirt-digging, nature-loving girls. But that all must come later in Spring.

The Arboretum is a great example of why it is wonderful to live where we do. Twenty minutes away from us is a complex of over a dozen gardens. It is free and open to the public. Oh, and it happens to have a bunch of Corinthian columns the kids can run around. I love this place.

As planned, we went to Clemyjontri Park yesterday. There was mud, which was expected.

There was still a lot of snow, which was unexpected. 

But overall, it was great fun and everyone was happy to be outside. Some friends even joined us which made the day all the more special.

Today was preschool concert day. I stepped back at one point and thought how very strange preschool concert day must seem to a non-parent. All the day really consists of is each class standing up and singing three very simple songs (like "This Little Light of Mine" or "He's Got the Whole World In His Hands"). But how do we parents respond to this simple singing. At our school, we organize a huge potluck lunch, moms and dads take off work, and even a few relatives from out-of-town show up. As the kids sing, every parent is standing up or leaning over so they can get an unobstructed photo or video. (As Meg's teacher joked, "There's more cameras here than at a presidential press conference.")

Why make such a big deal about it? Because it is important to our kids that we do. They are proud of what they do at school. They want to show off and they want us to be proud of them. Clare (our shy daughter!) wanted to make sure we would take pictures. Meg picked out her outfit last night and rushed to get dressed this morning. It's a big deal. 

Sure, there's always a chance that we'll overdo it. There's the chance that they'll believe they deserve applause for every thing they do. But our fear of overdoing it can't keep us from encouraging our children in the endeavors that are important to them. Along those lines, I spotted an announcement at our local library branch for an Edible Book Contest next Saturday. One simply makes a cake to honor their favorite book. I knew my little cake-making book lovers would want to enter this contest. When I asked Meg what book she wanted to honor, she said, "My book. I want to make a fairy cake." As I wrote about in an earlier post, Meg aspires to be an author and illustrator and has recently been working on her book, Fairies of the Sweetness Flowers. I thought about trying to refocus her on a published children's book, but then I realized that the librarians would, of course, encourage her in her aspirations and we should definitely do a fairy cake. We probably won't win the contest, but we'll have fun and it will be a big deal to Meg.

We have been stuck inside for far too long this winter. Moreover, we've been stuck inside too much over the last week. The large amount of snow we had, plus President's Day, kept Meg and Clare's preschool closed for a week. Sure, the girls played in the snow for a small amount of time each day, but it wasn't sufficient to get out their energy. On Saturday we attempted adventure. To leave the house, I had to first shovel out the car. We went to Lakeshore Learning for the Saturday craft, but Baby Anne began screaming and proved such a distraction we had to leave quickly. We traveled to Vienna, Virginia for the Northern Virginia Model Railroaders open house (see photo above). The model trains were quite fun (with characters from Thomas the Tank Engine making appearances on the tracks to the delight of my children), but, prior to seeing the model trains, large snow drifts had made parking quite difficult and by the time I found a parking place Clare had fallen asleep. Clare woke up enough to see the trains, but was very groggy. We ended the day with a nature class on owls (see my previous post on nature class) at the Long Branch Nature Center. The nature class was fun and included a great owl craft, but Baby Anne again began crying when I put her in the Bjorn for our short nature walk in the snow. We had our fun, but it was a challenging day.

The weather has warmed up and I am committed to getting the girls outside today. The only problem with outside play right now is the mud. With piles of snow melting, there is nothing but mud all around. So, I've decided it is time for a trip to Clemyjontri Park. Clemyjontri is an amazing park, run by Fairfax County, in McLean, Virginia. It has a carousel (which won't be open until warmer weather) along with four distinct play areas, each with different themes. There are playhouses; pretend airplanes, firetrucks, school buses; musical instruments; and largest play structure I have ever seen. When my mother-in-law saw Clemyjontri Park, she couldn't believe there was not an entry fee. Like so many attractions for kids in our area, it is free. For our purposes today, the best thing about Clemyjontri is that it has a rubberized play surface, i.e., no mud (though as you can see from the pictures below taken in previous years, one of our favorite areas is in the dirt and will undoubtedly be muddy).

I do hope our adventure is easier today than it was on Saturday. It must be said that some of the greatest adventures happen because difficulties arise. But, I think we could use an easy day of just running and playing. 

"A mouse took a stroll through the deep dark wood." So begins Julia Donaldson's The Gruffalo. It is a line that we in our house randomly repeat throughout our day because the book has become such a part of our lives. The line is right up there with Madeline's "In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines lived twelve little girls in two straight lines." (The Madeline phrase is so ubiquitous even my husband references it.)

As you can see from the picture, Clare recently decided to pay tribute to The Gruffalo by drawing a picture of the monster, so I thought it was time that I pay tribute to the book myself. It was our dear friend Nicole who discovered The Gruffalo for us. She found the movie version of The Gruffalo at the library along with the book The Gruffalo's Child. The girls were immediately entranced and we soon located a copy of the original book which became a favorite bedtime story. As a guest reader in Meg's preschool class last year, I shared the book and the teachers were so taken with the story it is now part of the regular book rotation at their preschool. The Gruffalo has also become one of our go-to birthday gifts for the numerous preschool birthday parties we attend. 

The Gruffalo tells a story of a mouse who outsmarts a series of predators by saying he is meeting the Gruffalo--a supposedly imaginary monster of whom the mouse gives fantastically terrible descriptions. As each predator leaves, the mouse mocks, "Silly old [fill in predator]! Doesn't he know? There's no such thing as a gruffalo." But to the mouse's surprise, he soon encounters a Gruffalo, who meets every aspect of the description the mouse has given. When the Gruffalo threatens to eat the mouse, the mouse responds, "I'm the scariest creature in this deep dark wood." The incredulous Gruffalo follows the mouse through the wood as the mouse makes the Gruffalo believe that the mouse (and not the Gruffalo himself) is scaring each of the predators. The book ends with the wonderfully peaceful lines, "All was quiet in the deep dark wood. The mouse found a nut and the nut was good."

I'm not completely sure what makes this book so endearing. Certainly the rhyme and rhythm of the words are superb. Clare, in particular, loves rhyme (I call her my little Dr. Seuss) and that is certainly part of the attraction for her. The language is so rhythmic that both the reader and listener can easily recite the story after reading it regularly for a brief time. When I read the book to Meg's class last year, she recited it word for word right along with me. The story is also just funny and is written with those fantastic British turns of phrase that make things sound even funnier. Then there are the illustrations. The colors are vibrant and the characters are drawn with fabulous expressions. If you haven't read this book, go read it now and share it with every child you know. 

I love baking with Meg and Clare. I am sure I will love baking with Anne in the future, but for now she mostly sits in her bouncy seat and fusses while we cook. There is a problem. We mostly bake sweets and when we are really in a cooking mood, there is far too much sugar in this house. I have long been wanting to transition them to helping me make dinner but I haven't really known how to do it. After all, it is tough to have a three-year-old chopping vegetables or working by a hot pan. Yes, I am sure there is a Montessori mother out there who will tell me she's been having her kids chop vegetables since they were two, but I am just not there. Meg does occasionally make her own cheese and hummus sandwiches, but that is the best we've done.  

Last night for dinner I decided to try something new. A nurse practitioner at our pediatrician's office had recommended making rice balls with kids. She said you just needed to prepare some Japanese sticky rice, add whatever ingredients appeal to your family and form balls. We did just that.

I am not much of a rice maker, but I managed a decent pot of sticky rice. I browned some ground turkey and cooked a bag of frozen mixed vegetables. I put each ingredient in a separate bowl and placed them in the middle of the counter. I then sat a plate in front of each girl and used a cookie dough scooper to put rice on each of their plates. They added the meat and vegetables to the rice and formed it all into a ball. Meg had no problem making the rice balls. Clare had more problems, but that may have been because she didn't like the feel of the rice sticking to her hands (as she is demonstrating in the picture above).

The response to the rice balls was mixed. My husband and I liked them. Clare ate hers and seemed to like them. Meg didn't eat much, but couldn't tell us why she didn't like them. We'll continue our adventures in cooking and see what other dishes we can create as a team.

After a full day of adventure Saturday (all of which I anticipated I would write about), we came home to find that our dear beta fish Herman had sunk to the bottom of his tank. Herman was an old fish, by beta fish standards. He had been with us for nearly two years and outlived his predecessor by, well, two years.

Meg and Clare don't know there was a predecessor. Herman was an Easter Bunny gift. The day before Easter I covertly went to one of the chain pet stores and bought the fish as well as the bowl and other supplies. After the girls went to bed, I made the fish a cozy habitat and added the fish to the bowl. By morning--when the girls were coming out of their room to see what the Easter Bunny had brought--the fish was nose down to the rocks. Meg, who was then three-years-old, wanted to know why he didn't swim. We said, "He's adjusting to a new home and is probably sleeping a lot." 

It was then time to call our friend Nicole into action. She went to the pet store to buy a replacement fish. Our plan was that she would replace the fish at our house while we were at an Easter gathering in D.C. While we were at this gathering, Meg began to tell everybody about her new fish and demonstrate how the fish slept with his nose down to the ground. All the adults (whom we had quietly told about the dead fish) had to restrain from laughing as our poor three-year-old was clearly acting out the actions of a dead fish. By the time we returned home, Herman (who received his name from an episode of Caillou) was swimming happily around his bowl. 

The second Herman's most challenging experience came about six months later. His bowl sat on a sideboard in our living room and, for some reason, a stuffed cat had ended up on the sideboard beside his bowl. Clare decided she needed that cat. She pulled a chair up, reached for the cat, and managed to pull over Herman's bowl. Herman went flying. I promise you, that fish flew out of his bowl and did somersaults in the air. We didn't see where he had landed. The whole family began searching. We found him and put him securely back into his bowl, but we didn't hold out much hope he would survive the experience. But he lived. Herman lived through our move. He lived through my forgetting to remind my husband to feed him while we were on a trip. He lived through my not cleaning his bowl as often as I should. But finally he could live no more.

The girls were a little sad at Herman's death. They didn't want to be around for his disposal. Instead, they listened to the Dies Irae from both the Mozart and Verdi Requiem...until Clare informed my husband the music might give her nightmares and they began listening to techno dance music instead. They've begun planning for a new pet. Meg is hoping for a guinea pig (though she calls it a gerbil pig). We've convinced them to wait for now.

Poor Herman. He was a good fish.