Philly

In celebration of Father's Day we went to the home of our founding fathers – Philadelphia – to see our friends Wendy and Todd who we met on our honeymoon in Costa Rica when were supposed to be sequestered in our love nest. We've already had several great adventure with them, which I talked about here and here. They had twin boys three weeks older than Sawyer and now have a third boy, Turner, who we got to meet for the first time this trip.

It was a fun trip filled with delicious food, the perfect amount of chaos, and a little unwelcome rain. We did get enough nice weather to tour the old town on our first day up. Independence Hall, The Liberty Bell, Elfreth's Alley (the oldest residential neighborhood in the country).

The best part of the tour, unexpectedly, was our stop at the Arden Theater.


We finished our tour of the city at Franklin Square, where the kids rode the carousel and pulled us in six different directions at once.



But, the day was not complete until we sat down and ate giant Philly Cheesesteaks, because you can't go to Philly and not eat cheesesteak (or so I was told by several friends on Facebook). I must report that after driving five hours alone with three kids (Scott took the train which took only 90 minutes) and walking half the city pushing a stroller AND carrying a backpack, I finished my entire cheesesteak in about three bites.

The following day rain put a damper on plans to go to Sesame Place, which is something like the Pampers Cruisers to Disney Land's Huggies Supreme, if you know what I mean. So instead we went to Giggleberry Fair, which was an indoor arcade/toddler discovery land. Stimulation overload is the best way to sum up that experience. But, it was a great way to wear some energy out of the kids, and they all thankfully slept the whole way home.

Meanwhile, I got to see what it would be like if Arden were a human ping pong ball:

The Bike

Last year for his 2nd birthday, Uncle Ross and Aunt Niki gave Sawyer this bike. When I opened it up - and it came from some Swedish manufacturer with no instructions - I had no idea what the point was. It just looked to me like a nice wooden bike with no pedals. Ross and Niki explained that it a training bike that teaches balance so that someday when he graduates to a big boy bike he won't need training wheels. (Here's a whole website dedicated to run bikes). Ross and Nik were very excited about the concept. But, for a long time the seat was too tall for Sawyer and he had to tip toe to reach the floor. He wanted to ride it so bad and it was such a compelling hazard that I had to stow it away. So we didn't get full appreciation until a few months ago when the weather warmed. And I haven't had a chance to personally thank Ross and Niki. I cannot begin to explain how amazing this thing is. Sawyer zoooooms around the yard like it has breaks or something. He goes so fast on it, we insist he wear a helmet. Scott said that shortly after I shot this video Sawyer went down the hill holding his feet up off the ground and balanced perfectly.



There are many humorous things about this clip: 1. the length of our grass. its not biking it bushwhacking. 2. scott's commentary. 3. Justin's final comment. 4. my inability to hold the camera still (sorry - still learning this video thing) Anyway, I'd like to dedicate this blog post to Uncle Ross and Aunt Niki. For the BEST PRESENT EVER.

So Long Sippy Cups, Hello Straws

A few people have asked me about the sippy cup issue I mentioned in a previous post. An excerpt from the Nanny 911 episode that scared me to my core can be seen here: LINK.

I would like to take a moment here to thank God that these are not my kids. Not even a little bit. I think a moment of silence for that mother is in order. The whole thing was enough to make me take a hard look at our drawer full of sippy cups. Before I had children, I knew I'd have to wean them from the bottle and potty train, but I never knew how sippy cups would someday infiltrate every aspect of my daily life. Prior to operation Seize the Cup, I had a moment of realization that I had sippy cups (most full of water, but some unfortunately with milk) in my car, in my diaper bag, on the floor in my living room, on the kitchen table, in Sawyer's room AND filling up the dishwasher.

Also, for your reading enjoyment:
So Long Sippy Cups, Hello Straws
Three Problems with Sippy Cups

Dancing?

I don't know if this qualifies as dancing, but I am definitely convinced that I need to take the kids to more summer outdoor music festivals. They had a blast and wore themselves out running in circles.


Can we please just talk about the cuteness of Arden's outfit here? Dress and aqua chucks with orange laces are both and-me-downs from Baby Olivia.

Speaking of my addiction to ultra cute clothes for the Baby Arden, I found out that SHOPSTYLE makes hunting for the perfect outfit online super easy with a nifty scroll bar that lets you check out hundreds of outfits from many sources. I never acutally have to buy new clothes but still had fun looking at the little girl dresses I found here.

Seize the bottles, and the day.

After watching an episode of Nanny 911 that shook me to my core, I've decided that sippy cups are some sort of crack for preschoolers that must be banished forever one night after everyone's sleeping. Seems like a job for a distant cousin of the tooth fairy.

On my way to that ultimate goal, I went through the drawers tonight and threw away all the old sippy cups with deep indents in the lids from Sawyer gnawing on them for the past two years and stains from juice that sat too long. I also took the final leap and chucked all the poisonous plastic I never bothered to get rid of when the BPA plastic scare hit last year. And then, I threw away every last baby bottle in my house. Arden is fully graduated to sippy cups (and has four fresh cups all her own with Princess Fairies instead of CARS on them).

The throwing out the bottle thing felt like a really big deal. It made me realize that I'm almost done with a whole phase of parenting: Babies. Standing in the grocery store line today the woman behind me who was cooing at Arden looked up and said: "It'll be over before you can blink. They grow up so fast." I must hear some version of this comment from somebody, somewhere, every time I leave the house with the kids. I don't know if it's because I live in a place where the median age lingers around 68, or if this is the just one piece of wisdom that everyone in the world happens to agree upon. As a result, it's a message that's been pounded into my head: "Enjoy it while you can. It flies by. Before you know it they'll be headed off to college." It makes me think of Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society standing behind the class whispering "C-a-r-p-e D-i-e-m . . . "

The Age of Why?

Why? Who knew it was such a versatile word? It can be used as a follow up to almost any statement. For instance:
–What's that on the floor?
– A piece of dirt.
–Why?
Why? – WHY? – is there dirt on your floor? It's not a bad question. But then you give a legitimate answer such as:
- It fell off somebody's shoe.
. . . .and the response is:
–But, why?
The other day we were driving to the grocery store after I picked the kids up from school and an afternoon thunderstorm was swirling in. I could see the long bolts of lightening striking about five miles away and the almost black skyline seemed to be located directly over the grocery store ahead. The radio was screeching the warning tones of imminent severe weather and, while I really needed a few things, the mental image of carting two kids and five bags of groceries through the parking lot in torrential rain and nickle size hail was enough to throw me into a u-turn.
Where we going? I want to go to the store!
We're going home Sawyer. It's about to storm.
Why?
Because we don't want to get wet.
Why?
Because it's too much for Mommy to deal with in the rain.
Why?
Because there's going to be big thunder and lightening outside and I want to be at home when that happens.
Why?
Because I've done my time. I've raced down mountaintops in the middle of lightening storms and crouched on my insulated sleeping pad in open fields covering my ears as the lightening cracked and thunder roared simultaneously. I've woken up in my tent in the middle of the night with water pouring through the seams onto everything I own. And, dammit, I own a house and a car to take me there and I don't HAVE to carry 70 pounds of kids and groceries through the rain if I don't want to.
But, whyyyy, Mommy?.
BECAUSE I SAID SO! THAT'S WHY!

Nephew Blessed