The Wine-Dark Sea

Advent is here. Are you ready? I’m not. Once again the beginning of the liturgical year finds me woefully unprepared.

There are those who are planners and preparers and those of us who aren’t. If you’ve got all your stuff together and are already ready for Advent and Christmas, or even well on your way to being ready, I’m happy for you and this isn’t in any way meant as a criticism of you. I just am not that kind of person, never will be, and have finally begun to make my peace with that. I will do things in my own time and in my own way and I will do my best not to look over my shoulder to see where anyone else is. That’s just how I am. I like to do things slowly, slowly, slowly.

Like Alicia writes here, I try not to stress over Advent. The thing is Advent is a time for preparation in itself and for me that means I don’t prepare for Advent, not really. Perhaps it makes sense to some people; but I can’t handle preparing for preparing for preparing. So one day last week Dom went and bought some Advent candles. On Saturday I located the Advent wreath and Nativity scene and Christmas books. As in I identified the boxes they were in in the office, I didn’t do anything with them. I expected I’d at least put the Advent wreath on the table at dinner.

And then Sunday afternoon found me feeling lazy and uninspired about the dinner ingredients int he refrigerator and freezer. I’ve fallen off the menu-planning train since I’ve been pregnant and still haven’t really got back into the swing. Thus we decided to go out for BBQ instead of cooking. Which was great as we got all the kids into bed super early after we got back and there were only breakfast and lunch dishes to clean up at the end of the day. But it means the Advent wreath is still in its box. And you know that’s ok with me.

There are still four weeks until Christmas. We’ll clean up the house a bit today and put up the wreath and maybe the Nativity set too. Perhaps tonight I’ll get around to wrapping the Christmas books. I rather like that idea. If not, then they’ll just go out in a basket on the coffee table and that’s ok too.

I did spend a bit of time yesterday afternoon brushing up my Advent playlist on iTunes, trying to decide if I want to buy more music this year and if so what. I didn’t make a commitment; but I probably will buy an album or two. If I can find a good one with primarily Advent hymns, I’ll buy that. I’m sure at least one Christmas album will call my name.

The Catholic school kids were selling wreaths after Mass; but I forgot my wallet and Dom didn’t have cash. Still, they’ll be there again next Sunday. We won’t buy a tree for a couple more weeks. Probably either the third weekend or even the fourth of Advent. It isn’t a firm tradition, I just don’t like it up too early. Most of the decorations will go up with the tree.

Christmas cookies probably won’t be made until maybe the week before Christmas. Or when Bella begs or something inspires me.

It’s nice to know I’m in good company. There are other moms out there striving to have a low-key Advent. Jen wrote a nice primer, Baby Steps for Celebrating Advent, culled from reader comments and I am so grateful to her questions for once again reminding me that it is ok and more than ok to do little things with love rather than to give in to the tidal swell that wants to force me to try to do everything big and grand and implement every cool idea I see. (#12 is my suggestion for storytelling with the Nativity scene.)

Karen Edmisten has a No- Panic Advent series of blog posts that is also a great reminder about keeping things manageable. And Karen’s been at this mom thing a bit longer than I have.

It’s good to go back and revisit other favorites too. Leila offers beautiful reflections on keeping Advent as a time of wonder with children.

Finally, Idoya Munn writes about trying to celebrate Advent for the first time and feeling foolishly ignorant. She makes me feel fabulously put together by comparison and grateful to have been an inspiration to another mom trying to find ways to make her home a place for welcoming Christ. It’s good to be reminded that we are all baby stepping our way toward Christmas together, even if I do feel a bit like the blind leading the blind. Incidentally, despite her husband’s laughter, I think she is absolutely right when she says, “But I thought Advent was about the Christ being the light.” If I can keep that one idea in mind throughout the next four weeks, I think maybe I can begin to prepare my heart to carry that light.

Last night on the way home from our fabulous BBQ dinner (Tennessee’s isn’t quite Texas-style BBQ; but their brisket isn’t half bad.) the girls had fun spotting the first Christmas lights of the season. “Christmas lights!” they’d yell, whenever they saw a house lit up. And then, “Christmas lights! Advent! Christmas lights! Advent!”

Sweet Idoya also reminds me of this piece I wrote last year about Bella’s finding Jesus in what she already had, not needing anything external to bring Christ into our home. Another great lesson about poverty of spirit that I need to learn again and again and again. And isn’t that what Advent is really about? Returning to the beginning to learn anew the one important thing.

Jennifer didn’t host quick takes on Friday; but I’ve got a backlog of them saved up from the past two weeks and don’t want to wait until next Friday. So here goes: my occasional foray into recording those little moments that I don’t want to forget.

*    *    *

I’m changing the sheets on my bed. Before I put the blanket and comforter and quilt back on, Bella walks in and sees the sunlight shining on the smooth, white sheets: “It’s beautiful!” she exclaims, “Just like a clearing in the woods!”

I think she’s thinking of Jane Yolen’s Owl Moon and the moonlight shining on the snow-filled clearing.

*    *    *

At 3 am Bella is in the kitchen being dosed with medicine. Cough,... cough: “I think maybe I might be getting sick,” she says in a pathetic little whine. “No, Bella. You ARE sick,” I reply.

*    *    *

A watershed moment: Friday morning Bella complained that her pancake was cold and asked me to warm it up for her. Heretofore she has been incredibly heat-phobic, refusing to eat anything above room temperature. (Making sure all food was chilled to room temperature was a mistake we made with our oldest when she was a toddler and not with the other kids.)

*    *    *

First I caught Ben dipping fingers in the toilet and licking them. Ick! Then he scrubbed the hall floor with his toothbrush and put it back into his mouth. I never had this kind of problem with the girls.

*    *    *

If I give the kids only a quarter slice of bread or toast, they tend to eat the whole piece, crusts and all. If I give them half a slice or a whole slice—or even several quarter slices on their plate all at once—then they tend to leave the crusts behind. So doling them out a quarter at a time is a bit more work for me but less wasteful.

*    *    *

The other night Ben seemed hungry so I offered him a piece of bread and butter. He seemed to want it; but when I handed it to him, he got mad and dropped it. Then he ran to the drawer where we keep the plates. It was empty so I gave him a plate from the dishwasher. He put the bread and butter on the plate and carried it over to the table, put it on the table, climbed into his chair and then ate it.

He has repeated this several times, fetching a plate whenever food is offered to him. Once at dinner he even grabbed plates for Bella and Sophie.

Tonight I was about to put him to bed when he spied the pecan pie sitting on the stove top. He pointed and babbled at it. Even though he’s never had it before, I was certain it was what he wanted. SO I cut him a slice and he was happy.

He is becoming a little boy who very much knows his own mind. 

*    *    *

Bella is standing in the kitchen exclaiming to no one in particular: “Don’t open the refrigerator, you rats of spit!.... Rats of spit! Rats of spit!”

I have no idea where that epithet came from; but I rather like it. Rats of spit.

The children all have a cold. Nothing major, just coughs and runny noses. Still, the girls were up just about every hour last night, coughing and crying. Bella would wander in moaning, “Sophie’s crying and I can’t sleep!” I’d have to go in and resettle Sophie. Fortunately, Ben slept soundly all night and didn’t have to be resettled once.

After such a night, we weren’t up for much. We decided today, bright and sunny, was a perfect day to go for a drive. We headed out in the direction of Cohasset, where we oohed and aahed over all the huge houses. And then we wandered up the coast to Hull where we parked at Nantasket beach and went for a little walk.

It was a chill 42; but the sun was nice and there wasn’t too much wind. The kids ran up and down the beach.

Bella collected a pocketful of shells and rocks without ever letting go of her dolly.

She was single-minded in her pursuit.

Sophie stared at the water and wandered back and forth aimlessly.

Ben followed Bella, running and laughing… and falling. Poor little guy fell at least a dozen times.

But only one was a face plant that left him crying.

I was amazed at how long our shadows were at noon.

We stayed about ten minutes, maybe fifteen, and then were chilled and so back to the car.

Bella’s cry of “I’m hungry!” sent us to nearby Jake’s seafood, where we’ve eaten several times before.

Somehow it doesn’t matter where we were intending to go, we still end up in Hull and find ourselves eating at Jake’s. It has a sort of gravitational pull.

Great food, a wonderful location right on the water, very kid friendly with a nautical kitsch decor of big fish, boats, lighthouses, buoys, etc.

The kids had mac-n-cheese. As usual.

Dom had a bowl of chowder and some kind of fried seafood plate. I had a spinach salad with sliced almonds, dried cranberries and avocado and a nicely done piece of grilled salmon.

The light was so amazing I couldn’t help taking picture after picture of the kids.

Then Dom’s mother called. She and his sister, Francesca were in the area and hoping to swing by the house for a visit. We wrapped up lunch and headed home.

A beautiful day. So much to be thankful for.

The kids’ table.

I hope all of you had a blessed day full of family and food and fun.

Holding my sweet niece, Zelie. Isn’t she a doll?

Sweet Sophie loved Auntie Carol’s chocolate mousse. (So did Ben and I!)

I was very grateful that my wonderful sister-in-law, Carol, cooked a beautiful Thanksgiving dinner. I made my favorite Brussels sprouts with bacon and a delicious pecan pie. And that was the limit of my culinary powers.

Sophie can be a very stubborn two year-old and trying to cope with her whims can be incredibly frustrating. Recently I’ve rediscovered the power of redirection as a parenting tool. In this case, though, the redirection is less about refocusing the children’s attention and more about refocusing my own. In short, I’ve learned how much more effective it sometimes is to enter into Sophie’s imaginative world rather than trying to snap her out of it.

One of her current favorite fascinations is pretending to be a baby. When she’s playing at being a baby, if I address her as Sophie she gets quite upset, digs in her heels and refuses to do anything I ask. She won’t come to the table for dinner, she won’t get dressed… she just won’t. But if I call her “Baby” and start talking in baby talk to her, I can get her to do most anything. I was very resistant at first. I don’t like to talk baby talk to older children. But it became clear how important this pretend was to her and how blissfully happy it made her when I entered into it and played along. As soon as I respond to her request that I call her “Baby” and she realizes I’m playing with her, she smiles the most blissful little smile that absolutely melts my heart.

I suppose it’s a form of regression. The kind that is to be expected with the advent of a new addition to our family. And so I reassure myself that it won’t last forever.

Today I had a few more opportunities to witness how effective this tactic can be. The first was at nap time. When the clock rolled around to that time of day the girls were busily engaged in pretending that the couches were trains. Sophie was quite comfortable tucked up in her train car with a pile of blankets and had no desire to be shuffled off to her bed. So instead I made the first move of asking if I might read to her on the train. I found myself boarding her car and snuggling up next to her for her favorite book of nursery rhymes. Then afterward I convinced her that her bed could be another train car. She happily allowed me to carry her blankets into her room and read her a story and then tuck her into the train car for her nap.

Tonight at bedtime when Bella went to go brush her teeth Sophie balked and refused. I was afraid we might have to give up the teeth as a lost cause for tonight when she declared that she wanted to cuddle with me and proceeded to pile up her blankies on my lap and climb aboard my chair with her little stuffed puppy dog in tow. But when Bella was done and Dom came to fetch Sophie for her turn, I had a little flash of inspiration: “Does puppy dog want to have his teeth brushed?” She was delighted at the idea and agreed that she’d have her teeth brushed after her puppy dog. So she happily followed Dom off to the bathroom.

Meanwhile, Bella announced that she wanted to go back to my room to sit in the empty diaper box. (Where she’d evidently been before Dom brushed her teeth.) I was about to refuse before I noticed my double standard. Why was I willing to indulge Sophie’s whims but not Bella’s? So I allowed her to bring the box into the living room and agreed with her plea that she could stay in it during our bedtime prayers so long as she actually joined in and said all the prayers with us. If she got distracted, the box would have to go.

She climbed into the box and when Sophie was done with her teeth she joined Bella. The two of them happily crowded into the small box and actually did a pretty good job of paying attention to prayers. Of course the box tipped over a few times and there was at least one little squabble. But on the whole they were a little less distracted than they have been when they were free to wander about the room.

I just think how when we moved into this house two years ago Sophie was a baby who could hardly sit up and Bella mostly played by herself. Now the two of them play together and even let Ben join in now and then. What a sweet little world to observe. I usually just sit back and do that. But it is fun to occasionally get caught up in the action myself and enter into their little world. I could say I was thinking outside the box; but I prefer to think of it as climbing into it. After all, with the girls in control, I never know what the box is going to be next.

In the past few days I’ve seen what seems like a spate of articles and blog posts about the horrors of the internet and social media (somehow this has to happen at lest once a year or so) and how it’s destroying the fabric of modern society and putting us all in danger. And frankly, I’m tired of it all and wish it would just go away. In particular what’s got my back up tonight (in a sort of straw that broke the camel’s back kind of way) was this article at Faith and Family. Yes, I know it’s a lovely article and it’s got a positive message about spiritual friendship; but for me that message’s power was lost by the swipes the article took at the online world:

We live in age when we can strike up a new friendship with the click of a mouse, when our “friends,” many of whom we’ve never even met, can number into the hundreds, or even thousands, thanks to social networking. Yet despite all the connections and links and “likes” about everything from what we cooked for dinner last night to our latest work project, most people are hungry for something more.

We can have 395 Facebook friends and still feel lonely. We can “talk” to people all day in an almost constant stream of e-mail, telephone and online chats and never have a conversation that dips below the surface to touch the soul. We can surround ourselves around the clock with co-workers and neighbors, parishioners and family members and still wonder at times if we’re flying solo.

In a world where so much is mobile or disposable, we crave something deeper, something eternal. Sure, it’s important to have friends who’ll share a night out for cocktails, a ball game or a monthly book club, but it’s more important to develop at least one friendship that goes beyond the boundaries society sets for us to a place where God enters the picture.

It evidently hit the same nerve with someone else for the first comment from Claire says: “Unfortunately, sometimes online is the only option available.  Not ideal, but better than nothing.”

I so very much agree with Claire. She put it beautifully and succinctly. But unlike her, I’m long-winded and so will expand on the theme.

While I am not blind to the internet’s abuses and its dangers, I think that what is presented in the paragraphs I quote is a one-sided view and sets up an implied contrast between the shallow world of social media and the deeper world of spiritual friendship. I’d like to take a few minutes to push back against that contrast and present the other side—the positive side of social media. I agree with Mary DeTurris Poust that we crave something eternal, something deeper than much of what is presented in social media outlets; but I take exception to the implication that the “something deeper” that we crave can never be found online.

I live more than a thousand miles away from most of my friends and family. I’m a transplant from Texas to New England and I have found the transition to be a difficult one. Though I’ve lived here for a decade now, I haven’t made many deep friendships here—the exception of course being the deepest soul friendship of my life with my husband. Still, for one reason and another much if not most of my adult human contact happens online. We’ve only lived in our town a short while and I have three children under five and am expecting another baby. I don’t have time or energy right now to go out seeking soul friends in my local community. For better or worse the online world fills that need in my life right now. And the more I think on it and pray about it, the more certain I am that God is saying to me: What I have given you is sufficient for you for now.

Though I don’t have any local friends to go have coffee with, in the past five years I have made several deep soul friends online. Friends who challenge me and support me with prayers and kinds words and for whom I do the same. Friends who have my back. Friends I would love to meet “in real life” because I know that when we do it will feel as if we’d known each other for years. I would love for one of these friends to live next door; but that isn’t what God has sent me and right now I’m trusting him to send me what I need. And to all of those friends, you know who you are, I say thank you again for being there for me.

Moreover, in addition to that handful of soul friendships I have a broader community of casual friends and passing acquaintances that nonetheless support me and confirm me in my faith journey. Blogging moms and blogging singles, people I know only on Facebook or only on Twitter or only in the comment box of my blog. They may be faceless and I may only know them by a nickname or a first name or a handle or an initial; but still they are real people and they make a real difference in my life and I know that for some of them I make a real difference in their lives as well. Every day I thank God for the internet and for blogs and, yes, even for Facebook. I thank him for the wonders of technology that keep me in touch with far-off friends and family and for bringing me a loving, prayerful, virtual community when I cannot have that same kind of community face-to-face.

Certainly it isn’t the best of all possible worlds; but it’s what I have and I’m a bit tired of seeing people imply that I should be trying harder or doing more because it isn’t good enough.

While it is true that “we can have 395 Facebook friends and still feel lonely,” on the other hand we can also have a small circle of Facebook friends that helps dispel the loneliness. While it is true that “we can “talk” to people all day in an almost constant stream of e-mail, telephone and online chats and never have a conversation that dips below the surface to touch the soul” it is also true that some of those online conversations, some of those telephone calls, and some of those emails can become true moments of grace, souls touching souls in a mysterious way that brings true comfort and consolation in some of life’s bleakest hours.

Sure, some days for me the internet is a time waster and a life-sucker, an invitation to sloth and depression and the some of the worse kinds of judgmentalism and backbiting. But at other times it has been a channel of the peace that passes understanding.

Moreover, it seems to me quite possible that if the internet is indeed a wasteland, if Twitter and Facebook are indeed flooded with inanities, then it is possible that God is calling some of us to make it our own mission territory, to push back against the darkness and triviality and to bring a bit of light and hope and deeper meaning. Perhaps in the same way that St Therese became patron of the missions from within the walls of her little Carmel in Liseiux, some of us blogging moms in pajamas writing about poop and sippy cups and bickering toddlers from the lonely bastions of our suburban hermitages might also have our own small mission to perform? Perhaps the real question is: How can I here, now, do my little part to show the face of love not only to my family in the hidden heart of my home but also in the midst of the online maelstrom?

So today I want to thank all of you out there in my little online community, those of you who comment and those of you who only read silently and yet who in that silence whisper a prayer that helps buoy me in my day. Thank you all for being here to chat with me, to admire my children with me, to support me, to laugh and cry with me, to pray with me and to praise God with me. Thank you for reaching out to touch me with your words and your prayers when you were not able to touch me with your hands. Sometimes this can be a lonely life and I don’t know what I’d do without you.

Lastly, I ask God to bless these words that I put up here and on Twitter and on Facebook and all the words I send out into the ether when I send emails and post comments. Give success to the work of our hands, Lord, give success to the work of our hands.

This week Betty Beguiles is soliciting stories from her readers to keep herself entertained as she unpacks in her new (rat free!!!!) home and to satisfy her unquenchable thirst for romance:

So, tell me…

How did you and your significant other first meet? Was it love at first sight or did your affection develop over time? And how did you know he (or she) was The One?

My dear husband is out of town for the next four days so this seems to be the perfect time to sit down and write this out. Of course, me being the wordy writer I am, it grew much too long for Betty’s comment box, so I’m posting it here. I’m sure I’ve written it out before; but who can resist telling such a good story one more time?

It was definitely not love at first sight. In fact neither of us really remember the first sight. We know we were both at the same small church young adult gathering at the same time but neither of us recalls the other being there.

The first time I remember seeing him was at Mass. He was the lector, we shook hands at the sign of peace and after Mass my roommate introduced us. He was just one more new face in a new place. (I’d just moved from Texas to Salem, MA to go to grad school in Boston.)

We saw each other occasionally at church, at big parties. Once I tagged along when my roommate went to drop something of for him at his house. They used to get together to play chess and smoke cigars. I actually wondered why they never dated.

Then one day, several years later, we ran into each other at the grocery store and suddenly he decided I was cute and he wanted to ask me out. That was his moment. But I just thought it was nice to meet a friendly face and then thought nothing else of it.

So the next week out of the blue he called me up and asked if I wanted to join him and some other church friends at a local pub. I said sure and he offered to pick me up. That should have been my first clue; but it wasn’t. I just thought it was odd because I was perfectly capable of driving myself.

So we went to the pub and no one else showed up because of course he hadn’t actually invited anyone else. We had a great chat over Guinness and pub food, all about our favorite books. Then we chatted some more in his car in my driveway. Almost an hour before I finally asked him in. And then we talked more.

And then he totally ruined the evening by asking for a kiss. Keep in mind I had no idea I was even on a date. It was awkward and he soon left. I called my sister the next day and asked why guys are so stupid and why did he have to go ruin a perfectly nice evening?

So we didn’t do anything together again for more than a year. By then I decided that it had been long enough that maybe the awkwardness was gone a bit so I agreed to go with my roommate to a young adult Bible study he was leading at his house. It seemed safe enough with a big group there. And I was starting to realize I wanted to get more serious about my faith.

So after several months I found myself consistently the last person to leave Bible study. I’d stand at his front door with my coat on and my purse over my shoulder for hours, talking with my hand on the doorknob but not quite able to leave. And still we weren’t dating. I still insisted to myself that I wasn’t interested. But everyone else in the young adult group was talking about us and I knew it.

Eventually we started going out to movies and dinner and such and I admitted maybe we were dating. And finally one night I allowed him to kiss me.

He was always one step ahead of me. I could see it in his eyes for months that he wanted to say “I love you” and I kind of hoped he wouldn’t because I was not ready to say it. Eventually he did and I didn’t and it was awkward for a while until finally I did.

Then I had to warn him when he came with me to Texas to meet my family that he was not allowed to ask my dad for my hand in marriage. My dad is not the kind of father who would appreciate that gesture. Instead, I was worried that if asked he’d probably say something rude about it not being any of his business. By then I was pretty sure that so long as the meeting the family went well he and I would eventually probably get married. But I wasn’t ready to be engaged. That didn’t happen until almost Easter time.

Knowing he was “The One” was a slow realization and there was never a sudden moment of insight or “just knowing.” I spent a long time wrestling with worries that I was jumping into marriage just because I was lonely, because I was about to turn 30 and didn’t want to be an old maid. Was I making this move out of fear or because it was really the right thing to do? But I did know that he was solid in his faith and that I really needed that in a husband because I was pretty weak. And I knew from watching him with his nieces and nephews that he would make a good father. Those were the two biggest criteria for me. Add to it the fact that we were such good friends. That I could never imagine running out of things to talk about. Remember even before we were dating we could talk and talk at his front door till 2 in the morning.

And then while we were dating his roommate got engaged and while we watched him and his fiance go through their wedding preparations we had many kind of bizarre conversations about what our ideal weddings would be like. In short, our ideals were rather different from his roommate and roommate’s fiance but were strikingly like each others.

We had similar visions of what marriage was about and family and all our big priorities were the same. Most of all I felt a deep peace when I was with him and when I thought about being with him for the rest of my life. I knew I could count on him. And I still know it.

The first time he asked me to marry him he was a bit crazy high from too much caffeine and it was kind of a joke. I got really mad at him for asking such a question so lightly. But not mad enough to break up with him, fortunately.

It took a long time for me to be convinced; but once I did say “yes” it went fast. We were engaged for a mere five months, just long enough to plan a very simple wedding. Then I got pregnant on our honeymoon and had a beautiful baby girl nine months later. Now we’ve been married five years, have three children and one miscarried baby in heaven and another baby due in February.

There, Betty, is that enough detail for you?

Photos: Honeymooning in Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island

Every once in a while Bella and I (and sometimes Sophie too) watch You Tube videos of music as part of an ongoing, very informal music appreciation study. This includes folk, choral and orchestral pieces. Really anything I can find that shows good closeups of the musicians singing and playing. One thing I try to do as we watch is to point out the various instruments. So Bella can identify some of the most common instruments: guitar, fiddle, piano, cello, violin… Both by look and sometimes even by sound. (You can visit my You Tube Playlists and my Favorites page to see some of what we listen to.)

This morning we were listening to Beethoven, courtesy of Pentimento. The girls were mesmerized by the first video clip as I pointed out the various instruments. But the second one totally lost their attention as there wasn’t anything to look at.

But as I watched and pointed I realized again that my knowledge of the instruments only goes so far. I’m especially weak at the woodwinds. Is that a clarinet or an oboe? So once they’d wandered off I decided to go find some pictures of the various instruments both so I could learn them myself and so that Bella could have a guide.

I found some great sites for kids at various symphonies across the country. I’m not at all musically inclined; but I’d like my girls to enjoy good music. I realized that one could put together a pretty good music appreciation course for much more advanced students than mine from what’s available on the internet. Here are some of the best pages that we explored today:

Our favorite so far is the San Francisco Symphony’s kids pages. Especially the virtual tour of the instruments of the orchestra where you can look at the individual instruments (they are grouped by kind, all the strings together, the woodwinds, the percussion…) The interface is quite nice. You first choose a family and then can browse the instruments in that family. For each instrument there is a little clip you can listen to. You can rotate the image of the instrument and look at it from all sides and then zoom in for a close-up look. There is a brief description of each instrument: what it’s made of, what it sounds like, how it is played, how many of them are usually in the orchestra.

It was so fun to see Bella’s eyes as we listened to a violin then a viola then a cello then a double bass then a harp. She could hear the difference and see the differences. She said: “I like it better when I can hear each instrument separately.” This site was a huge hit with both girls.

There were other “music lab” pages that explored things like tempo, rhythm, pitch, harmony… we’re definitely not there yet but I’ll keep it on file for when she’s older.

The DSO site also has a page where you can listen to each instrument. Though the interface isn’t quite as nice as the SFO page, it has a more complete list of instruments that you can listen to. (On the SFO page you can only listen to and examine the major instruments in each family, the others are listed but there are no sound files or interactive images.) The best thing about the DSO page is that almost all of the instruments have two or three tracks. One is a short sample of what it sounds like solo, another is the instrument playing an orchestral setting, the third is a clip of it playing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.” Can you guess which one was the huge hit with my Sophie? Hint: one of her favorite songs is “Twinkle Twinkle.”

At the DSO site you could also listen by composer. A nice way to compare and contrast different styles. Again, a bit old for my girls though they enjoyed hearing one or two of the clips. There was also a whole set of pages on music theory: various scales, the musical staff, how hearing works, . Definitely more advanced stuff. There were some pages of instructions on how to build your own instruments and a games page that we didn’t look at.

The DSO also has a nice set of seating charts for the orchestra of various periods. Want to know the difference between a Baroque, a Romantic, a Classical, and a Modern orchestra? This is the place to go.

The New York Philharmonic has what looks like a great kids page where you explore the instrument storage rooms; but my browser keeps giving me a message about not finding the needed plug-ins to run the all the available media. (Whatever that means.) You can also meet the various soloists and conductors. Pretty cool little virtual tour.

I’d love to take the girls to the symphony sometime. I note that the Boston Symphony Orchestra has family concerts at 11 am. Adults tickets are only $20. Kids are free. There’s one in April… would I be crazy to think of taking the girls with the new baby in tow and maybe just leaving Ben with a babysitter? 

Anyone have any other good online resources that you like to use for music appreciation?

Amazing how a little sun and warmer weather can brighten your mood. Yesterday morning the house was a wreck; but the sun was out and the weather was mild and my sister had the day off. Housework can wait.

“Let’s go for a drive,” I suggested. Sophie and Ben immediately scrambled for their coats and shoes. Bella needed a bit more convincing; but I eventually got her motivated.

I packed some food so we could lunch on the go and then we went.

Of course, once we were at the park Bella didn’t regret it at all.

Ben loves geese. He had to be restrained because he was determined to get down to the water. Eventually I had to forbid the girls from throwing sticks and such into the water because they were tempting him too close to the edge. Once they wandered away and did something else, he was content to move away as well.

This particular park is fast becoming my favorite destination for an outing. It has beautiful paved trails that make it easy for a pregnant woman with three small kids and a double stroller to enjoy the beauty of woods and water.

For whatever reason our yard never seems to fill up with leaves in the fall even though we have quite a few trees. Which as far as Dom is concerned is great—no raking. But it also means the kids don’t get to play in the leaves very often. We found a nice spot away from tempting water where there were lovely drifts of oak leaves for them to run and play in.

Ben and Bella went at it with glee. Sophie is a bit more stoical. Her look as she ran about in the leaf drifts was one of calm concentration.

But I was able to get her to become a bit more animated when she noticed the camera.

Bella just had to climb on every rock she saw. Impractical shoes, skirt, tights did not slow her down at all.

Bella fell and scraped her knee. Ben very nearly threw himself into the water several times and threw a massive temper tantrum at one point, flinging himself to the pavement over some imagined slight. Sophie fell out of the car and hurt her finger when she was trying to climb into her car seat in her two year-old “do it myself” way. Nonetheless a very successful outing. We all came home happy and tired.

Today I cleaned the house and now am feeling content inside and out.

My crew. They make me smile.

As usual most of my quick takes are just recycled updates about cute things the kids did in the past week that I previously posted on Facebook and/or Twitter. I’m sorry to the people who follow me in both places and also read my blog; but both are ephemeral whereas the blog is my family history memory book where I store these gems for the long term. I’ve tried to expand some of them to add context or detail. And of course there are some new cute pictures of the kids.

—1—

Ben and Bella eating bananas before Ben’s haircut on Saturday.

The sweetest thing: When I went to put Ben to bed last night, he requested a baby doll. I often play with one as I’m tucking him in, using it to tickle his belly and distract him from being mad about having to go to bed or pretending to tuck it in before I tuck him in. He laughs and seems to enjoy the play; but this is the first time he’s indicated he missed the dolly if I didn’t do it.

So after I gave him the doll he joined me in tucking in the doll before going to sleep himself. He lay the dolly down, put a blanket on it and patted its chest. Then put his finger to his lips and made a “shhhh” sound. Then kissed his palm and put it on the dolly’s face. He repeated it again after I tried to move the dolly to make room for him to lie down, repositioning her back to the middle of the bed then: blanket, pat, shhhh, kiss.

Later when I went to tuck in the girls, I found him sleeping on his belly with the doll underneath him.

—2—

Ben’s new haircut.

Ben is now saying two-syllable words: diaper and tractor. He loves reading board books. He adores his big sisters, especially Sophie. He will go put his head in her lap and cuddle with her. His favorite thing in the world, though, is trucks. Any and all trucks. Sometimes it strikes me how much of a boy he is.

—3—

Sophie grabs my iPod and declares that she wants to say prayers. She turns it on and goes to iBreviary: “Lord, open my wips. My mouth will claima my praises.”

—4—

Don’t mess with the rock star butterfly princess.

Bella having declared that she was full and couldn’t eat another bite (moussaka not really being her favorite dinner), saw a dish of roasted beets on the stove top that I hadn’t brought to the table. “Beets! I want some beets. I think I have a little more room in my belly that is just right for beets.”

—5—

Bella offers me a cup of tea.

Bella: “My name is Sally; but everyone calls me Cranna.”
Ok then.

In addition to being a sometime alter ego, Cranna is also one of Bella’s imaginary friends. Sometimes she’s ten. Yesterday she was my age and lives in Texas and has two nieces and a granddaughter.

I love the name Cranna. I have no idea where it came from. I guess Bella made it up. Or she heard us say something she thought sounded like “Cranna”.

Evidently it is a real Scottish surname.

—6—

Sophie smiles.

Me: “Sophie, give me a good night kiss.”
Her: “No, I don’t want to!”
Then,
laying down on my lap facedown, “Kiss my bum!”

“Thanks, kiddo!” I thought, “Pogue mahone indeed!” I know she doesn’t mean anything by it. She doesn’t even really think it is funny to ask me to kiss her bum. She spends all day asking me to kiss fingers, toes, knees, elbows, forehead, etc. Her bum is just another bit that gets hurt.

—7—

Cowgirl Bella wearing Frontierville swag that my baby brother, who works for Zynga, sent for Dom’s birthday.

Every night before he goes to bed Dom gets Bella up to use the potty so she doesn’t have a middle of the night accident. It isn’t really a wake up. She’s usually so completely groggy that she can hardly walk on her own. Even so, the other night she insisted that she must have the blue receiving blankie on her head that she’d been wearing earlier in the evening when she was pretending to be Holy Mary. She ran back to her room to grab the blanket. Either her head was cold or she was really into the costume.

—8—

“Nothing up my sleeve.”

Recently Sophie has had days when she insists that her name is Catherine. Other days she’s been insisting that she’s a baby. It makes her ridiculously happy when I play along with her and call her “Baby” and coddle her a bit.

Visit my fellow DST-hating blogger Jennifer at Conversion Diary for more quick takes.