Another Trip to the Heartland

Clio and I headed to Minnesota (yes, just the two of us), for a long weekend necessitated by the application process at Lake Country Montessori, which called for a classroom visit last Friday. My parents were in Arizona, so Clio and I stayed with Brian, Maud, Finn, and Lucia, and while I must admit it was bizarre not to see my parents, it was fun to get another perspective on life in the Twin Cities, and Clio was thrilled to have so much time with her cousins.

She has her fist sleepover, staying on a cot in Lucia's room (until Lucia went into Brian and Maud's room in the middle of the first night to report that Clio was crying; Clio spent the rest of the night in bed with me, draping her legs over my body and getting her stinky thumb as close to my face as possible)


She enjoyed a double bubble bath (and wound up terrified by the jacuzzi jets)



And spent a lot of time simulating the joys of a three-child family, whether with Finn and Lucia or Lucia and Brooke, the next door neighbor/best friend/permanent fixture in the house (Clio enjoyed this much more than her expression in these photos might lead you to believe: the first was taken on Sunday, when she woke up with a fever; in the second, I believe she is attempting to pick her nose in peace.)



Clio also generally takes pleasure in trying out other people's stuff; Friday afternoon we had the house to ourselves, and she gave Lucia's hat, slippers, and baby stroller a test run. Again, my picture-taking was, apparently, disturbing the peace.


We did also slip away for one morning to visit Scarlett and her mom Rebecca, an expat member of my Brooklyn mom's group; in the trying-out-other-people's-stuff category, Clio had a grand time with Scarlett's dollhouse and kitchen, refusing to join the rest of us for lunch, and similarly enjoyed Scarlett's books and sliding down the seats of these classic Eames chairs. Scarlett was much more agreeable to the whole documentation plan than my own little angel.


In addition to this photo-journal, I have a few verbal developments to report. Clio always picks up quirky little sayings or behaviors when we travel, and this time was no exception:

She began calling me "Mother" (which I hate)

She confused Brooke, Lucia's aforementioned best friend, and Brooklyn, the place where we live, and insisted on calling each by the other's name

She added "that's disgusting" to her recent litany of inappropriate, oddly teen-like phrases (such as "that's nasty" and "you said butts"), all of which I was convinced she would use with some regularity at her "interview" for school; if she doesn't get in, I will remain convinced that this is the reason

She continued to use the expression "I don't want to do that plan," as in, when I told her that we were leaving for home the next day. Instead, she suggested that "now we stay here. In Minnesota." And for that, I blame Brian and Maud for being such excellent hosts, and myself, for allowing such treats as juice, ice cream, a movie, and really late bedtimes.

The Meaning of Christmas

On the 8-hour Drive from Morrison to Carbondale on Christmas Day, Dave and I took a vote, which was unanimous: Worst Christmas Ever. This, of course, had to do with Eleri's double pneumonia, with Pete's stomach flu, with the power outages, ice storms, and driving weather that generally looked like this, or worse:


All of which, in hind sight, makes me feel like a complainer, and makes me wonder if we've all kind of forgotten what Christmas is about. My friend Statia was saying at our last Mom's night how much there actually is to Christmas, and how difficult she found it to explain all the elements of this holiday to a kid: flying reindeer, a fat man coming down the chimney, a tree covered with lights, and who is this Jesus character, anyway?

When we were leaving the hospital on Christmas Eve, the staff gathered around Eleri's car seat to coo over her one last time, and to see her off.

Earlier in the day, one of the nurses had presented us with a wrapped present, topped with a bow, which turned out to be a little pink stocking with a tiny teddy bear tucked into a pocket, and the words Baby's First Christmas across the top. "I was at the store last night," she said; "I saw this and thought, 'oh she just has to have it, especially if she's in the hospital for Christmas.'" The gesture was very kind, and as we left the hospital with our baby who had touched everyone in the Morrison Community Hospital, I realized that the first Christmas was, in fact, a baby's, and for many people it is still about a baby who changed the world.

On the pagan side of the holiday, I also found myself thinking about the trope of the Tree. When he was little, Dave nixed the idea of a Christmas Tree (I guess he was an early adopter of the Green movement). This year, when it looked like we would stay in Morrison for Christmas, apart from Barb's parents and brother, with whom she has never, as far as I know, missed a Christmas, Barb and I both had the same idea: we needed a tree. For the first time in nearly 20 years, the Peterson house would have its very own honest to goodness Christmas tree, and we would buck up and throw ourselves a tree trimming party.

In New York, you can buy a tree on the sidewalk outside just about any grocery store or CVS (once when Clio and I passed a lot after school, I told her how good the pines smelled; she threw her whole body into the pile of trees and emerged with the declaration: "YUCKY!"); in Morrison, you either cut down a tree on your own property (Barb's preferred method) or you drive on over to the nearest tree farm. When Dave came home with a tiny little tree in a pot, so it could be planted after the holiday, I was instantly reminded of A Charlie Brown Christmas, where Charlie Brown is sent out, much like Dave, to bring home the holiday centerpiece and, much like Dave, he comes back with a dinky little evergreen.


In the cartoon, Charlie Brown is lambasted for his choice: it is the 1950s or 60s, and brightly colored tinsel trees are all the rage. But of course Charlie Brown's choice is more about love than it is about aesthetics or commercialism, and when his friends all band together to decorate it, the little tree transforms into the largest, most beautiful tree around (at least, this is my memory of the story.) I would say that our tree, hung with the plastic-cow lights that Dave had back in college and photo-ornaments that Clio and Barb made together, was transformed by this same Christmas magic. I don't have an "after" shot, but I'm not so sure the spirit of the tree can be captured.

Of course, the holidays are mainly about connecting with loved ones, and we did manage to get Clio and Eleri some quality time with 4 grandparents, 4 great-grandparents, 1 step-great grandmother, 2 great-aunts, 2 great-uncles, 2 aunts, 2 uncles, a first cousin once removed, and her two cousins. Grandma Barb has retained many of Dave and Derek's original toys and gear over the years, and when she pulled out Memory, the Mommy and Baby animal matching game, I was brought right back to Christmas Eve, circa 1979 or so, when my cousin Christine and I received matching white rabbit fur hats and muffs from our own Nonny and wore them all night with our pajamas while playing the newly minted Memory in the long hallway connecting one end of the house to the other, and I realize that for me, Christmas has always been about cousins.

When I arrived in Minnesota from Illinois, my brothers and their families came to my parents' house for another round of Christmas celebration, and I had the fur-hat flashback again when I took these pictures of Clio and Lucia in their matching tutus in front of our-yes-vintage silver tinsel tree, just like the ones Sally really wanted in A Charlie Brown Christmas.
And while I couldn't find the picture that I know exists of Christine and I playing Memory, I did find these, which tell the story equally well.



And I know that we will remember this holiday in many ways (not the least of which will be a plaque that Pete might have carved for the tree once it is planted, which will read The 2008 Christmas Memorial Tree: It's Always Something), but you would be hard pressed to match the happy photos from the last two weeks with the list of things that went wrong, and I know we will not remember this as the Worst Christmas Ever. In fact, I no longer believe there could be such a thing.

Merry christmas, everyone.

Lucia

This is Lucia.

Lucia is Clio's 4-year-old cousin, who she adores.

Cousin Lucia is really into things that are sparkly, fancy, or "big girl" including Polly Pockets (here she is showing Clio how to play with one)


and, especially Fair Hair, which she can be seen sporting in many of these pictures. This is a special beauty treatment that you can get at the Minnesota State Fair. Lucia thought Clio should have her hair done with fluorescent colors and glitter too, but after hearing Lucia's mom describe the process of de-Fairing the Hair, I passed on Clio's behalf.

Lucia, being two years older than Clio, also has a way of introducing Clio to new things. Like delicious snacks.

After enjoying a whole bowl of chips together, Lucia got them each an ice cream sandwich. Clio doesn't eat ice cream, especially right before bed, so we intercepted hers. But being such a generous and helpful girl, Lucia shared half of her own.

She also introduced Clio to the art of driving. Yes, driving. Lucia has this awesome tractor, and not only did she take Clio for a ride,


But she insisted Clio take it for a spin on her own. Thank goodness for helmets!



I like to think of her relationship with Lucia as Clio's chance to be a little sister- something that, since Eleri's arrival, she is quite desperate to try. Like most little sisters, Clio really wants to emulate Lucia.


No shirt for Lucia? No shirt for Clio. No problem.

Here she is, looking to see what to do next,

And doing as Lucia does.


While I was taking pictures of my Granddad holding Eleri (his littlest great-grandbaby for a few more months), Lucia taught Clio another important lesson: how to take back some of the spotlight for yourself!

Family Ties

Of course, our vacation was also really about the people.

For me, it was great to introduce the eldest member of our clan to the youngest,

To introduce Liz, a friend since we were babies, and Rebecca, a friend since we had babies, and to have all those babies interact.

For my kids, it was fabulous to hang out with aunts and uncles,

Play and explore with cousins,


Share many meals with grandparents,

And have some down time with Mommy and Daddy.

We also celebrated my second cousin Amy, who recently got married, had a baby, and moved in to her Uncle Brian's old hous; saw the progress on my Aunt Eileen's gorgeous house; checked out my aunt Molly's newly completed Montessori training center and school, a vision 5 years in the making; hosted my mom's cousin Jamie for an afternoon pool party and figured out that his kids and my kids are second cousins once removed; and took a tour of my elementary school, which lasted an hour and a half because I was stopped and hugged in every classroom by teachers who are still there and remember me, though I graduated from the Junior High there 20 years ago.

While there is much to be said for the independence of building your own life in a place like New York City, there are times when nothing beats being surrounded by your own history. For me, this is one such time.

Summer Vacation

We have just returned home from more than a week in Minnesota, and I realize this is the longest hiatus I have taken from the blog since it began in May 2007. As with so many things, our trip passed quickly, yet when I think back a whole week to my nephew Finn's 7 1/2 birthday party, or Monday's trip to the State Fair with cousins, Tuesday's pool party with moms Rebecca and Liz and kids Scarlett, Laila, and Owen; Wednesday's underwater exploration at the Mall of America's giant underground aquarium; or even Friday's visit to a playground deemed "chutes and ladders" for it's maze of rope ladders and twisting slides, it all feels light years away. I do know that in our time away, I learned of one engagement and three pregnancies (including my sister-in-law, Nicole's!), and one dear friend gave birth to her first child, a son (mazel tov, Sara and Roy!), showing just how much life can happen in a short span of time.

Such a busy week away also creates a blogger's nightmare: finding yourself way behind, with dozens of photos and anecdotes to share. My pictures are a little spotty, too: one of the drawbacks of having two kids is that you never seem to have a free hand. (Clio is quite a mimic these days, and this notion is confirmed by the fact that she is now always telling me "I have my hands full." I wonder where she hears these things?)

Hopefully several of these outings and stories will get their due over the coming days. We'll see. This trip truly felt like summer vacation, and this week we all go back to school: Clio begins the twos program at Brooklyn Heights Montessori on Thursday, Eleri gives day care a try for a day, and Wednesday evening, I debut my playacting as a "professor" with a class I'm teaching for Creative Time at NYU. Between these new adventures and the demands of a 7-week-old, who knows how frequently I'll find time to escape to the basement to share my musings on parenthood (and gain a little peace of mind)? What I do know is that it feels like we packed some of the best of summer vacation into one short week, and, happily, I was too busy enjoying it to document those ephemeral favorites like fires in the fire pit, sitting out under the deck late into the night eating ice cream and talking with family, or spinning my daughter round and round in a great expanse of suburban lawn until we both fell down laughing in the late afternoon sun.

I believe that true summer is about being outside as much as possible, and being near the water. Like so many things, my daughter seems to have inherited this belief, too.

Happy Birthday from the Duggans

Brian and Maud really know how to do birthdays. Not only did they send Clio an adorable wood cradle for her baby Stella (great for a 2 year old, perfect for a 2 year old about to become a big sister), they also left a message singing happy birthday. I put it on speaker phone and it completely delighted miss Clio.

Then, to add to the fun, they emailed us a "making of" video.

Here's Brian, Maud, and cousins Finn and Lucia making their birthday tribute.

How to get what you want and influence people

Yesterday on the playground, all the kids were smitten with a fancy push-trike, which had a basket, a bell, and a horn. It was unclear who it actually belonged to, but in the space of an hour, Clio, Charlie, Rylen, and Riley all hovered, grabbing the horn, shaking the basket, and pushing the thing to make it go.
The parents all used the word "share" a lot, but ultimately we agreed that these kids are just too young to get the concept, and it's such a civil thing to impose on toddlers, whose worlds revolve only around what they want.

In Minnesota last weekend, Clio got not one, but TWO stuffed dinosaurs at Kohls because the merchandisers are smart enough to put them at the checkout, at toddler eye level, and to understand that toddlers don't understand ownership. Parents (or in this case grandparents) are helpless and money gets spent. Could you resist this?:



As an aside, we also got Clio a drum. Not, in this case, because she spotted one and thought it belonged to her, but because she bangs on things and it seemed productive to channel that. Plus, I oringally edited these photos in a "new toys" folder and am lazily including them here, even though the subject changed with my musing about sharing.



The "it's mine because I want it" mentality extends to food. At the zoo, (more on that later), Clio had her snack of cheerios, but decided she would also like some of Finn and Lucia's lunch. So she got it, just by pointing. Yummy.