Spring Break 2010

Monday Zoo Day:

Exploring brambles

Proudly scratched up

Waiting for Carousel

Why is it moving?

Tuesday Art Museum:

Dazzled

Building together

Wednesday hiking and painting:

Trailhead

Love!

Dueling Picassos

Which is the masterpiece?

Thursday… I messed up my schedule requests and had to work, so the boy went to the office with Dad and the girl stayed home with a sitter.

Friday, we went to the Dino Museum in the morning (sorry, no good pictures) and then, in the afternoon, I was so exhausted from the week I just put Sesame Street on and sat on the couch with the kids, intermittently nodding off until the girl sat on my face to wake me up, which she thought was a hilarious game.

Hats off to the stay at home parents–while it was really fun to be home with the kids, it is a lot of work and I was tired by the end of the week.  I worked on Saturday and Sunday, and that felt like a break.  Still, sometimes I feel guilty that we both work and aren’t home with the kids more, but the truth is I get a lot more quality time with my kids than a lot of working parents, and for that I’m grateful.  I also have the advantage of having a lot of weekdays off, so I can use that time to do errands and have time to myself so that when we are home with the kids we can just hang out with them and not have to get a lot of work done.  All I’m saying is I’m pretty lucky to have so much flexibility.  Eric would probably prefer if I didn’t have to work so many weekends (two out of four every month) but you can’t have everything, no?

Today I took the kids to school for the first time in nearly 2 weeks.  I was prepared for tears, a struggle, leg-clinging. Instead, I had two children who happily picked up their lunch boxes, ran into their classrooms, smiling and happy to see their friends and teachers, and ready to start learning again.

WWHD?

Last year, we bought a few children’s books of Hindu mythology. One of these was the story of Hanuman, a monkey who is the son of the wind God and has magical powers. He has the ability to fly, to grow and shrink as he wishes, and is incredibly strong. In the Ramayana, a Hindu epic, the evil demon Ravana steals Sita, the god Rama’s wife, and Hanuman helps to save her. To paraphrase heavily, he first flies over to the island (Sri Lanka) where Sita is being held captive, then purposefully gets captured. The demons set his tail on fire, so he grows his tail out as long as possible before dancing all over the island and setting it ablaze, then jumps back to Rama on the mainland. Later, when Rama’s army is in full battle with Ravana’s and there are many dead warriors on the field, he is told to fly to the Himalayas to bring back healing herbs. Unable to tell which are the right herbs, he simply lifts the entire mountain and brings it to the battlefield. As the wind wafts over the mountain, the scent revives the fallen warriors.

We recently bought a new illustrated book of the Ramayana, and the boy loves it, as do I. The pictures are stunning, and the text is witty and clear. It’s a joy to look at and to read, which we’ve been doing almost every night since we got it almost six weeks ago.

His favorite character, by far, is Hanuman. Whenever we get to Hanuman’s part in the story, he pumps both fists in the air and yells “Hanumaaaaan!” Once, right before he was going to fall asleep, he cocked his head and whispered to me, “You know what, Mommy? Hanuman is more powerful and braver than all the superheros!” After reading the Ramayana, he told Eric he wanted a mantra of his own, and Eric asked who his favorite person was in the story. Sometimes we’ll hear him softly chanting, “Hanuman, Hanuman” to himself, over and over. I couldn’t figure out his adoration at first, but then Eric pointed out that Hanuman is basically a monkey and a superhero, so what’s not for a four year old to love?

This is so cool to me that he loves the Hindu myths and is familiar with the gods and demons. Like I’ve mentioned before, we’re not religious but I think it’s great that the names and stories are familiar to him. After all, it’s all part of who he is and I want him to be connected to it. Honestly, I didn’t know the stories in such detail until we started reading them to him. More than cultural identity, though, I learned the other day that there are more immediate tangible benefits to his love of Hanuman.

A few nights ago, we received “Fantastic Mr. Fox” from Netflix, which the boy had seen in the theatre with Eric, but which I hadn’t. I asked if he could wait to watch it for a few minutes while I cleaned up the kitchen, and despite my polite exhortations, he refused and said he wanted to start the movie right away.

I went upstairs while Eric stayed down with him for a bit, and then I heard him yell up the stairs, “Mommy! I’ll wait to watch the movie with you!”

Eric came upstairs, and said, “Ok. Now, don’t laugh at this, but do you know how I got him to wait to watch the movie?”
“How?” I asked.
“Well, I sat down, and looked at him, and I said, ‘Now, what would Hanuman do in this situation?’ The boy said sheepishly, ‘He would wait for Mama.’ And then he thought for a few seconds, and yelled up the stairs that he had changed his mind.”

Not only did he wait for me to watch the movie, he came upstairs and helped me clean up the kitchen. He wrapped the leftover pizza in foil, wiped down all the countertops, the fridge, and the dishwasher, and then patiently waited for me to finish the dishes before we headed downstairs and watched the movie together.

If Hanuman can inspire my child to be a thoughtful, considerate person, I’m all for it. Moreover, that a phrase which has been reduced to a bumper sticker and is basically fodder for pop culture mockery (WWWCND, anyone?)–that this sentiment can still hold meaning is rather remarkable.  Maybe there’s some power in these old myths after all.

Old Man Winter’s Last Stand

Yesterday, at 8 am, our street looked like this:


 
Like the rest of us, this little red-breasted robin below thought that it was supposed to be Spring.  Undaunted, he scampered among the snowy branches.  Robins are a hardy sort.


 
So are the kiddos, who had a ball with this (hopefully, right, winter?!) last snow of the season.

Okay, so the girl had a bit of a rough start.  She must be from my school of thinking when it comes to winter, which is this: If we were meant to live in cold, snowy weather, we would have been born with thick fur.  Like yaks.  (I cannot claim originality for that line.  It came from a college roommate, who may have stolen it herself.)

Like the robin, the girl is a hardy sort and soon found her footing:

A VERY serious shoveler, there.  Note the pink and purple sparkly scarf, created as requested.  I held one strand of Cotton-Ease with one strand of some cheapo acrylic sparkly yarn and just knitted garter stitch lengthwise until it was wide enough, and attached a sparkly fringe.

Here’s a closeup:

Back at the snow day, after a few finishing touches, came….FrankenSnow!!

You know what’s great? Frankensnow is wearing the itchy mohair scarf that I had made for Eric! He didn’t seem to mind.  Sadly, he was not long for this world, as here is what our street looked like at 5PM THAT EVENING.

The best part of the day, though, was that some of the other kids and parents came out in snow gear and we all played together.  That’s one of the things I love most about my neighborhood–it’s a very porchy, neighborhy, impromptu playdate sort of place.  Everyone seems to hibernate in the winter, and then come spring and summer we’re all  out in our front yards and hanging out.  Much like the return of the robin heralds the beginning of Spring for nature, I hope that this gathering signals the beginning of the outdoor season for those of us in Denver, even if it did take place in almost 2 feet of snow.

MCA Denver for the Pint-Sized Set

A little while ago the boy and I had another stay-at-home day adventure.  This time, we went to the MCA Denver, which he calls his “Heart Museum” because of the cool spinning light up heart sculpture right outside the door.  We drive past it every day on our way home and spend just enough time to have figured out the sequence of events.  First the heart and ribbon are all lit up, then it starts to beat, then the sword goes through and the heart (to my eyes) goes into ventricular fibrillation, then all the blood drains out, and the cycle starts anew.  It’s delightful.

We took the bus to get there, sparing the need for parking and getting us $1 off the entrance ticket and looked around.

Honestly, he wasn’t terribly impressed except for one installation, 10,483,200 Minutes, pictured below.  I particularly enjoyed a photography series, but the art isn’t as accesible to the sippy-cup set as the stuff at the DAM.  I loved the atmosphere there and the building itself–stark and spare.

That last pic is the boy filling out a form tied to the artwork.  It asks you to select your favorite forms and colors from a few options, and on the back is a mini-questionnaire.  They somehow use this to create future works.  Here’s what the boy answered to the questions asked.

A bit tough to read, I know, but better if you click and enlarge. I particularly like the answer to : “If we all work together toward one thing, what might that be?”  Which was: “Obama.”  Parental brainwashing at work.

Upstairs they have a cool space, filled with fatboy beanbags, that looks over the city.  Just next to it is a free art/collage space in which we spent a bit of time.

The best part for the boy, though, was the cafe on top of the museum.  They have yummy sandwiches and desserts and have a nice selection of games, and we played a few rounds of ConnectFour.  The boy even won a game!! I couldn’t believe it.  I NEVER let little kids win.  I’m too competitive and I figure they have to learn how to lose graciously sooner or later.  Then, much to my chagrin, the boy saw that they had Candyland on the shelf and insisted we play.  I HATE Candyland.  There’s no skill involved to the game, and I can’t always win.  Dumb, dumb concept.

We passed by the library on the way home and stopped in to check out some new books and I got a glimpse into what the future holds:

After we got home, I actually LOOKED at the comics that we checked out (in a hurry, so as not to miss the bus) and realized that they were entirely inappropriate and were soon confiscated, which only made them more appealing.

Overall, I enjoyed the MCA but don’t think I’d take the little ones there again until they’re a bit older, or if they have a special exhibition that would appeal to them.  I understand that they want to maintain a space that is hip and doesn’t have kids running around, which is great. Still, I think it would be cool if they could have more kid-friendly stuff to expose them to that art.  Maybe a monthly event? That I would definitely attend with boy in tow…if I can drag him away from Spider-Man for a bit.

Musical Beds

Last night was great.

We had put the girl to bed around 6:30, her usual time and she seemed to fall right asleep as per usual.  We finished with the boy’s bedtime routine around 8 pm, also as per usual.  A bit later Eric went to bed earlier than usual because he was really tired.

Shortly after that, the boy yelled downstairs “Can I sleep in your bed?” “Fine,” I yelled back.  He crawls into bed with Eric.

Then the girl wakes up screaming, so I go comfort her and then go back downstairs.

I hear intermittent grumbling from our bedroom as the boy is probably kicking Eric in his sleep.

Then I hear the boy start to scream, and hear Eric call my name.  I run upstairs and find the boy shuddering in fear and crying, almost inconsolable.  “What happened? Did you have a bad dream?” The boy nods. “Can you tell me about it?” The boy shakes his head and starts shuddering anew.  “Was it that scary?” “Yes.” “Were you in it?” “No.” “Was I in it?” “Yes.” “Was anyone else in your dream?” “No. Just you.” “Can you tell me what I was doing?” He starts to shudder again and shakes his head, “No.” He calms down and then I put him back to bed and go downstairs.

The girl wakes up screaming AGAIN, and I give up on the evening, pick her up out of the crib and go to lie down with her in the boy’s bed, thinking at least this way we’ll all get some sleep.

Then, Eric enters the room carrying the boy, who had been snoring and kicking him, hoping to put him to bed in his own room.  Finding us sleeping there, he says, “What the hell is going on here?” and walks out, deposits the boy back into our bed and heads downstairs to sleep in the basement.

At this point, the girl and I are in a twin mattress on the ground, the boy is alone in our king size bed, and Eric is in the basement on the couch.

Now I realize that I’m cold and need another blanket, which is, of course, in the basement.

I sneak out of bed and head downstairs trying to be as quiet as possible, sounding for all the world like a prowler, and scare the living daylights out of Eric who’s asleep downstairs. I’m thankful he doesn’t sleep with a gun under his pillow.

I grab a blanket and head upstairs, and try to get comfortable.  The girl is farting and crawling on my face in her sleep.

I take the girl and bring her into my bed where the boy is, where she continues to crawl on my face and generally squirm around.

A few hours later, the boy sits bolt upright in bed and exclaims, “I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!” “Take what?” I ask. “Sleeping in this bed with the girl!” “So go sleep in your own bed, kiddo.” He takes off and goes to sleep in his bed.

Then HE starts crying saying his tummy hurts. I go into his room, rub his belly.  “Maybe it’ll help if you try to poop,” I offer. “Okay,” he says. Sleepily, we walk to the bathroom where he does his business, says he feels better, and then heads back to bed.  I think it’s around midnight at this point.

The girl continues to fart and roll onto my face all night long.

So not only did I not get a wink of sleep, but apparently I’m so terrifying I give my own son nightmares that are too scary to talk about.  Parenting FAIL.

Scientific Child

For Christmas the boy got this science experiments book, which is better for his age group than the one that I mentioned in the earlier post.  The experiments and concepts are tailored more to a 6 to 8 year old, but many of them are still fun to do even if he doesn’t completely understand the science behind everything.

First you find “dirty” pennies.  The boy made it his personal challenge to find really really dirty ones.  Mix vinegar and salt together to create a weak acid.  You really should use white vinegar so you can see the bubbles easier, but all I had was apple cider vinegar, so that it was.  This is very stinky unless you love the smell of vinegar.

Drop them in…

and see what happens after they take a bath!

Before and After

If you leave them out to dry without rinsing, they get all crusty and blue.

We then took a few nails and dropped them into the vinegar and we forgot about the experiment for a few days as work and school took precedence.

When we wondered why the house smelled like vinegar and remembered about the experiment, the nails had a slight copper sheen to it, as you can see on the 2 left nails.  I wouldn’t recommend this as a method to plate your metal jewelery, though.

Here’s a page from the Exploratorium (my all time favorite place to go in the entire world, which completely solidifies my standing as an absolute and total NERD, as if you didn’t already know) that describes the experiment that we did and the science behind it.

Obviously, the boy is too young to understand about acids and ions and things like that, but he sees the change happening and it’s the first time that he can see the effects of tiny little things that he can’t visualize firsthand, and I’d like to think it stretches his mind.  The fun is in seeing how the world around you works, how you can manipulate it, and beginning to get the gears turning.

Pretty cool, no?

Freewheeling

The boy is fully riding a two-wheeler!

He had been riding a push bike for well over a year and had it down.  The idea is that the difficult aspects of learning to ride a bike are balance and steering, so a kid can figure those out first without bothering with pedals.  Then, when it’s time to ride a two-wheeler, you don’t even need training wheels.  At the suggestion of my friends Geoff and Karen who had their 4 year old twins riding without training wheels, we got him a 12″ bike for Christmas, and look!

(Excuse the music.  I couldn’t help myself)

A bit of a shaky start, and then he just goes!

It was pretty incredible to watch the first time it happened.  More than that, it just felt so BIG. I think that so far, the other achievements that we regard as milestones are all part of being a baby or a toddler.  But riding a bike is a big kid thing, and it signifies another level of freedom and ability.

I also realized that this is now the first time that he can go faster than we can.  Since, as I’ve mentioned before, history repeats itself, this worries me.  When I was six, my parents took me riding at the local park.  I rode ahead of them and climbed onto two parallel bars (part of the VitaCourse).  Dangling from one, I swayed to and fro, and then spied two elderly women round the corner.  I thought to myself, “I’ll show them what I can do!” and got on top of one of the bars.  I used to spin around the bar, like on the school playground, and was just short enough that I missed the other bar.  Unfortunately, I had grown. As I propelled my body forward, my forehead landed with a sickening thud on the second bar and I dropped to the ground unconscious, with a gash in my forehead and blood everywhere, which was the scene that my poor panicked parents saw as they rounded the corner.  Obviously, I survived, albeit with a rather large scar, but I’d rather not have to relieve that particular incident.

As he rode around the asphalt, it also made me realize that this is the first major leap into childhood, and by extension, into independence and pulling away from his parents.  It’s a bittersweet feeling when your child achieves something new.  On one hand, you’re just so proud of him, but on the other you realize that it means he needs you just a little bit less.  I know it’s not the last time this will happen, but it feels like it’s the first significant one. Or, as our friend John, father to teenagers, said, “This? This is nothing.  It only gets worse.”

Merry Belated Christmas

Late post–work kept me pretty busy last month, hence the downturn in posting.  I meant to have this done by Christmas but better late than never, I suppose.  And now on to the post itself.

When it comes to religion, both Eric and I are rather decidedly (mostly) non-believers.  Eric grew up in a relatively strict Christian household and studied the Bible quite a bit, and while much of the text still holds meaning for him, he is not a practicing Christian.  I was nominally raised Hindu, and a lot of the fables and tales still draw me, even if I don’t believe in the theology.

So what’s a mixed-race, secular family to do for Christmas?

I understand that, obviously, the holiday holds deep sacred meaning for many.  Even without that, it’s a pretty fun time: presents, trees, lights, songs, family.  In addition to the usual fun things, we are trying to develop our own traditions and pick up some that have been lost.

One such tradition ended many, many years ago, in a flurry of pierogi dough being flung across the kitchen.

Eric’s grandmother was Czech, and as such would make pierogies every year for Christmas.  They can have meat, but Nanny made them in her traditional form, as a peasant food with potato, cheese, and prunes.  It’s a bit of an involved process, but Eric remembers how much he loved making them with his Grandmother while growing up.  After his grandmother died, Eric’s mom, Cheryl, continued the tradition until one fateful day when Eric and his mother got into a fight whilst making pierogies.  Enraged, Cheryl began throwing pierogies at Eric across the kitchen.  The original fight has long been forgotten, but ever since that year, Cheryl simply purchased the pierogies instead of making them herself.

A few years ago, we decided to pick up the tradition again, and now the boy is old enough that he can practially make them all by himself.  This year, we tried a fusion pierogi–potato bhaji filling in the usual dough, to sort of combine both of our ethnic backgrounds into our own tradition.  We have not, as yet, made a prune filling out of lack of demand.  We use a very old, very traditional, very…well, okay I downloaded the recipe from the Food Network website–Polish Pierogies by Emeril “Lagaski.”

First you sift the flour, crack the eggs, and then mash everything up.

The boy has gotten really good at cracking eggs and rarely gets any shell in.

Then you roll the dough out and cut circles out of it.  The boy uses his own little rolling pin and does a nice job.

Then you carefully stuff the pierogies.  Note the look of intense concentration on Eric’s face.  This is not a job for the faint of heart.  Too little filling, the pierogi doesn’t taste that good.  Too much, it explodes when you boil it.

After stuffing and folding over, you use a fork to press around the edges and seal them.  The boy kept calling this “forking” and would cry out, “I want to fork them!”  This caused our inner twelve-year olds to giggle uncontrollably.

Then you have the perfectly plump pierogies, ready for boiling.

After all of that, we boiled the pierogies and then stored them in the fridge.  We eat them on Christmas Eve, sauteed with onions until they are crispy golden brown.  Sadly, I do not have any pictures of the finished pierogies as I was struck with a horrific flu virus and spent the next two days in bed.  I only got to eat 3 of the 5 dozen pierogies that we made and those tasted like cardboard because of my head cold.  I was told by the other consumers, however, that they were quite tasty.

It’s a pretty involved process, to be sure, but we all love doing it and next year the girl will be able to do a bit more than just eat them.  Something about making pierogies has come to mean that it’s the holidays.  Another tradition we have is that I always make souffle for Christmas dinner, though of course I couldn’t get out of bed to do it this year. Maybe next year I’ll post about that one instead.

I like the idea of creating memories for our children around the holidays, so that when the kids grow up, they can remember how we used to spend the whole day together, talking, laughing, making pierogies, and how eating them will always remind them of home.

What holiday traditions do you have?

Just Happy Cleaning Windows

Both of my children attend a Montessori school, where one of the basic philosophies is that children’s play is valuable work and should be regarded as such.  To this end there are various “practical life” stations in the classroom where the kids have scaled down versions of adult activities, like laundry hanging, dishwashing, and sweeping.  (I’m waiting for the class to have a few more useful ones, such as “cooking dinner” work, “putting self to bed” work, or “zymurgy for toddlers.”) One of the favorites is always “window washing” work.  I’m not sure why this is such a big hit, though I think it’s partly because it’s simply fun to spray a water bottle.  I purchased a set recently from a Montessori supply website, though I could probably have just put the whole thing together with stuff from the dollar store.

My intention was primarily for the girl to use it, but the boy grabbed it and proceeded to wash every window in the house.

The girl got into it, too:

She particularly loved the squeegee, and once when the boy tried to use it, she snatched it back from him and proceeded to whack him on the head repeatedly with the hard plastic side in a fit of rage. This landed her in time out rather quickly.  The boy, to his credit, never cried or lashed out at her, but instead walked over and sat down in front of her.  “It’s okay, sweetie pie,” he said. “I’m your brother and I love you.  Can you say sorry and give me a hug?” They gave each other a hug and promptly returned to window washing, while I got teary-eyed.

On another occasion, the girl picked up a towel and began to wipe off the fridge, completely of her own volition.  Seriously, this must be how they get the school clean.  I wonder if they’re licensed for child labor.  Should I notify the authorities?

She then made the sign for milk, so I handed her a sippy cup thinking she must be thirsty.  She instead proceeded to do this:

See? She realized that the fridge wasn’t actually dirty when she was cleaning it, so she purposefully dripped milk on it and then wiped it off, which gave her a great deal of satisfaction:

The thought process mystifies me–I wish I knew exactly what was going on in that little brain.  Does she need to feel that her work is purposeful? Or did she just want something to wipe off?  I’d like to think that it’s the former, since really, don’t we all want our work to be meaningful?  It reminds me of the Van Morrison song, “Cleaning Windows,” in finding happiness and satisfaction in simple, purposeful work.

Or maybe, sometimes spilling milk is just making a mess for the fun of it.

Embrace!

There’s a new exhibit titled “Embrace!” at the Denver Art Museum.  They invited artists to install installations and paint paintings throughout the building–directly onto the walls of the museum itself.  Check out the link to the Daniel Libeskind building–I think it’s stunning.  One of the interesting features is that there are no 90 degree angles in the building–the walls all jut out at odd angles to one another, and the pieces in this exhibit all take inspiration from and use that to their advantage.  Come April, these works will be painted over, only to remain in pictures.

The DAM is incredibly kid-friendly and we’ve had memberships since the new building opened.  On weekends during winter and every day during the summer you can check out kid-sized backpacks and art tubes with activities in them.  Some galleries have “I Spy” cards to play with the paintings, and there are interactive games on every floor.  In one work entitled “Bubbloo,”  a  light projector casts bubbles on the floor and kids (and adults, if you can get around the kids) run around to stomp on and pop the bubbles.  The central area of this piece is flanked by large beanbag chairs, and on most days you can lounge on these and watch a chaotic slew of children frantically try to pop all the bubbles first.  Occasionally this leads to a closed-head injury, but hey, it’s all for the sake of art.

I took the boy to see the new exhibit, and it’s really, really cool.  A disclaimer: taking pictures of a fast-moving kid (the boy) in a low-light setting (the museum) and without a flash yields a lot of blurred pictures.  Think of it as a purposeful design element.

In what used to be the gift shop is a piece titled “¿Being Home?” The artist asked immigrants to Denver to say one word that described their experience, and then did this:

Being Home? by Rupprecht Mathies

See all the big words hanging from pegs on racks? Those are huge pillow words that you’re encouraged to play with, and the boy had a ball with them.

Next was a very cool installation “Chamber,” where there’s a big room with projected words and images that flit about you in a dark space, meant to be reminiscent of being inside a fireplace, only with technology instead of organic flames.

Chamber by Charles Sandison

The boy found this to be a bit overwhelming and didn’t want to spend a bunch of time in there.

The DAM  has little stations where you can do art activities.  These change on a regular basis so there’s always something new, and they’re related to a piece nearby.  This time we found an area where there were cut up pieces of cardboard, a hole puncher, brads and twist ties encouraging you to repurpose this found material into art.

You can see a bit of the piece it relates to behind the boy in the pic above, and here’s a larger shot.

Rain Has No Father? by El Anatsui

The artist flattened liquor bottle tops and connected them with small copper rings to create this large undulating form, which the boy said reminded him of the mountains.

After all of this we were both a bit hungry and so went into the atrium that connects the old and new buildings, in which one can buy coffee and snack, which I did.  They have wooden blocks there for kids to play with that mimic the Denver Central Library, which is right outside the window.

Denver Central Library

The boy used this as inspiration for his own library re-creation:

And then a map of his Denver:

Denver Map-click to see captions larger

I have NO idea what “the clock place” is, but that’s what he insisted on.

After this we walked over to the Library, checked out some books and headed home.  We didn’t get to all the pieces in the show, so will have to go back at some point, but I highly recommend going to check it out if you get a chance, and take the kids! It’s been fun to take the boy (and now the girl) to the Museum and watch how their reaction to the art changes as they grow, from just sleeping in the carrier the entire time (philistine!) to playing with the light bubbles to now actually being able to have opinions on which pieces he likes and doesn’t.  And let me tell you–my kids are quite opinionated.