We kept Anne's birthday celebration kind of small this year -- a family dinner the night before, and a special birthday lunch and visit to the aquarium the day of. Because our little foodie baby loves eating out, our list of potential birthday lunch locations was a long one. Finally, we decided to narrow our search to restaurants near the aquarium, for logistics' sake. While scanning the map, I noticed a little pin for the Jewish Mother only a few miles away and I turned to James. "We have to take her there," I said.  "She'll love it."

It was James's first time at the Jewish Mother too, but not mine. In high school, the old Oceanfront location was a favorite hangout among me and my friends because of the proximity to the beach, the great live music, and the baskets of steaming hot latkes (which are somehow the perfect beach food, don't ask me why). I hadn't been back since leaving for college, and I was interested to check out the new Hilltop location and see if those latkes were as good as I remembered.

They were. We ordered plates and plates of food, and dove in. The Jewish Mother's menu is so eclectic that just paging through it and deciding what to order is an event in itself. Besides traditional NY deli-style fare (bagels, brisket, borscht, knishes) there are some unexpected and unexplainable little gems (chicken livers, conch fritters, lumpia) that had piqued our curiosity. There's a pretty extensive kids' menu, but it would almost be a pity to order the standard kids' meals as there is so much else to choose from. And breakfast is served ALL DAY. I can't stress how happy I was to see that, especially since most bagel places seem to close pretty early, and my bagel cravings always hit at dinner time.

A. devoured her weight in latkes and applesauce and kosher dill pickles and then waved away a slab of birthday cheesecake in  favor of a pile of corned beef from her dad's reuben (which she called "ham," and I didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise). This kid, I can't explain her. But I'm awfully glad she's mine.

I did feel a few pangs of homesickness for the old Jewish Mother location but the new 9,000 foot restaurant does look like a great venue and after checking the calendar, we decided our next visit will probably involve a babysitter for Baby A. But we're glad we got to go with her this time and we know we'll be back as a family sometime soon.
 

Two years ago today, I woke up feeling a little off. After a morning spent wondering whether we should call the doctor, J. decided he'd feel better if we went in and got things checked out. So we piled into the car. I wasn't due until May 10th, but I wasn't worried. My high-risk pregnancy had been marked with dozens of similar ER visits and everything had always turned out fine. Still, as we sped toward the hospital, I looked out of the window at the acres of yellow forsythia, the stands of daffodils in the yards we passed, and thought what a pretty time of year it would be to have a birthday, just as everything was coming into bloom.

At 11:28 that night, Anne Louisa was born, weighing in at just under 5 pounds, with the skinniest little legs I'd ever seen,  the most graceful hands.


She was in the NICU for fifteen days -- fifteen of the tiredest, scariest days of our lives, but fifteen of the most joyous, too.


Though I cried and cried over it at the time, in a strange way, now, I am very grateful for those fifteen days. They taught me so much -- not just how to do simple things, like bathe a baby, change a diaper, or prepare a bottle, but how to be flexible and roll with the punches, how to take each moment as it comes and not look ahead into the future for things to worry over. I learned in those days how to check out of the so-called "mommy wars" -- because who has time to focus on formula v. breast feeding, daycare v. stay-at-home when you're measuring success by desats and blood draws? The concept of "having it all" suddenly meant no more than having my baby in the same room as me, happy and healthy. With my tendency to overanalyze, to stress about little stuff, I'm not sure I would have been able to let go of those things if it weren't for those fifteen days after Anouk was born that redefined everything.

All the same, despite the valuable lessons learned, having a NICU baby is not an experience I hope ever to repeat or one I would want any other parent to have to go through. And that's why I made a donation to the March of Dimes today, on Anne's birthday -- in memory of that scrawny baby that is now my beautiful (two-year-old!) girl, in honor of the babies that had a much more difficult journey than she did, and in the hopes that one day we can put an end to the crisis of prematurity around the world.

The daffodils in our shady yard popped out over the weekend, just in time to help celebrate two years of the cutest, sweetest, funniest little kid I've ever known or imagined, even in my wildest dreams.

Happy second birthday, Baby A.! (Still "baby" for a little bit longer). We love you so.

With all of the gardening prep going on at our house lately, Anne has started to get very interested in plants and seedlings. I thought we should try to grow something, to give her a sense of the process. It's still a little early to start our seedlings for our garden, and besides, I wanted something a little more toddler friendly (i.e., able to be touched/experienced/loved on without too much damage), so I searched for another plant that would make a good project.

We decided to grow wheatgrass. It's the perfect plant for kids. It's hardy, it doesn't ask for much, and it grows so quickly that sometimes I feel like I can see it growing, which means that it offers pretty quick results, nice when you're dealing with toddler-sized attention spans. Not to mention that it will make a perfect Easter centerpiece, and we won't have to use that crinkly cellophane grass that makes the cats throw up. We could even harvest it for wheatgrass juice once it's full grown, if we were so inclined (I'm not -- whatever the health benefits might be: YUCK.)

Here is how we grew our wheatgrass. First, we ordered some seed online (Todd's Seeds offers inexpensive, organic products, so that's where we got ours). Once it arrived, we sprouted the seeds for a day in a jar of water that we changed every eight hours or so. Then we filled a small pot with a layer of rocks (for drainage -- if your container has drainage holes, you don't need to do this). Added some pre-moistened potting soil, scattered the sprouted seeds in a thick layer on top (so that almost no soil was showing), and covered the whole thing with a damp paper towel. And waited.

Within two days, our sprouts were an inch high, so we took the paper towel off and moved them to the light. Wheatgrass doesn't like direct sunlight, so we keep our pot on the radiator cover in the kitchen, just under the window. We've been watering our seeds twice a day with a plant mister and they've been growing like crazy.


Anouk thought the little seeds were babies, and she calls her grass her "baby grass." Several times a day we take the pot down and check to see how it's grown, check the soil, and give it a nice stroke. The other day I caught her trying to brush the grass with a tiny Barbie brush, and that was my cue to move it to higher ground. :)

Here's the Woody Guthrie song that this post title comes from, btw -- so simple that it shouldn't be a favorite but it is. Have you ever grown anything with your kids? What did they think?

In celebration of the first day of spring, I thought I'd post about one of our favorite outside spaces, which is the Fred Heutte Center in Ghent. The Heutte Center is located deep in a residential area, which means that unless you're a neighborhood resident, you probably haven't come across it before. I first discovered the center and its gardens as a student at Maury High School (it's a few blocks away) years ago, and was surprised that I hadn't ever heard of it before. It's relative isolation means that the Heutte Center one of those hidden gems and well-kept secrets you're always hearing about: peaceful, unspoiled, but also underappreciated.

The FHC takes up a just small plot of land in the middle of Ghent Square, but it's absolutely jam-packed with goodies. The center itself (which offers horticultural and fitness classes) is surrounded by perennial gardens lovingly tended by volunteer gardeners, and dotted with flowering trees, fountains and statuary. On one side of the main building, there's a camellia bower and on the other, an heirloom vegetable garden (the produce is donated to local food banks). And connecting everything together are paths that wind through stands of daffodils and hyacinths and magnolias.

There are so many things to do in the downtown area that the Heutte Center is often overlooked, but it shouldn't be. It's convenient to everything downtown, a great place to stop in the middle of running errands for a quiet moment or quick romp. As the weather has gotten nicer, A. and I have taken to packing a snack or small lunch in the picnic hamper and spending an hour there, looking at every tree and plant, and soaking in all of the gorgeousness. It's a nice way to recharge our batteries and to celebrate the season.


You can read more about the interesting history of the Heutte Center here.

HAPPY SPRING, EVERYBODY!

The Virginia Living Museum was one of my favorite places to go growing up, the absolute best field trip destination. While I always loved the zoo and the aquarium, there was something special about the VLM. The animals weren't exotic but native to my home state, ones I could, theoretically encounter in my backyard. And yet at the museum, I had a chance to see them up close in their own habitats, not bounding away or freezing in fear but doing the kind of things they do in their daily animal lives.

I was excited to share it with Anne. This is a kid who loves all things outdoors and animals of all stripes. She's a Virginia girl, too boot. So J and I hit the museum on a cloudy day last week with high hopes of initiating her into the tribe.

But we ran into trouble early on. Surprise tantrum -- hit the deck! I think it was prompted by the fact that we wouldn't let her take her coat off. Oh, almost two...you are a delight.


Still, despite a few squalls, we ended up having a great time exploring the VLM (which was nice, because after paying over $30 to get in, we weren't looking forward to 1-2-3 Magicking our way out before we'd seen everything). The interior exhibits, featuring plants and wildlife from different geographical regions of Virginia, were punctuated by interactive discovery centers where kids can piece together fossils, climb through tree trunks, and examine brightly-painted butterfly wings. We especially loved the Coastal Plain aquariums and the World of Darkness gallery, and seeing all of the animals that have so creatively adapted to life without light.

But the real highlight of the trip was a stroll over the elevated boardwalk that spans Deer Park Lake to see the big stars of the museum: coyotes, foxes, eagles, deer...  My favorites were the crafty (and slightly neurotic?) raccoons, James liked the wolves, and the playful otters made A. laugh out loud. Not an easy task on this particular day, but those otters are seriously charming. Even the most crotchety of toddlers cannot resist.

Have you been to the VLM lately? What was your favorite exhibit?

Our garden last year was a bit of a bust. We moved into our new house in July, and by the time we got our plot ready and put our plants in, it was too hot for anything to really take hold. Our squash and greens fizzled, and aside from a few root vegetables, we really didn't get much of a crop.

This year, we're getting a jump start and are already busy getting our garden ready for spring planting. We've freshened up our garden plot, loosened the soil, added more, and gotten rid of all of those pesky weeds that took root over the winter. We also have added a layer of compost to our soil to get it nice and rich for our plants. Courtesy of my dad, who gifted us with our very own composter to get us started. (This is the one we got.)

So far, we're taking to composting really well. Something about it is deeply satisfying to the minor obsessive in me. And Anne is happy to help in any way she can. I don't think much of the concept really sank in, but she does bring me her banana peels every morning, and we put them in the old coffee can we keep on the counter. When the can is full at the end of the day, we take it out and dump it in the composter and talk about what's going on in our nice stinky mix of leaves and dirt and veggie detritus, and how when it's ready, we'll put the compost on our garden, our flowerbeds, and in with our houseplants to make them grow big and strong.

I think composting is a great thing to do with kids -- not only does it set a good example of recycling and reusing and being kind to our planet, but it's just fascinating, the idea that something familiar can change into something else. Since we started, I've been scouring the internet for composting activities and links. Here's what I've come up with so far:

• This infographic gives a really good overview of general composting rules with words and pictures to explain what's compostable and what isn't.   

• The budding scientist can make a miniature compost bin out of a soda bottle -- the clear sides make it easy to watch decomposition in action. 

• Even if you don't have a lot of extra room, here are a few ways to compost  in small spaces. 

• I love these ideas for decorating a compost jar for the kitchen -- it seems like creative way of getting kids involved in the act. 

We also came across several picture books about composting while at the library the other day. You can find a list of our faves here.



Do you compost at your house? What do your kids think of it?

At long last, spring is beginning to spring in earnest, and Anouk and I are saying a temporary goodbye to some of our favorite indoor play spaces in favor of some old -- and new -- outdoor ones. Our goal for the warmer months this year is to try to hit up a new park at least once a week (hopefully we can make this happen). We started our new project with Deer Park, in Newport News, over the weekend.

Deer Park is special for a few reasons. It's located adjacent to the Peninsula museum complex, which makes it a nice place to have lunch/run off a little steam after a morning of museum-going. There are walking trails that wind throughout wetlands and flower gardens (the azalea garden was just beginning to bud the day we went), a picnic area large enough to accomodate big groups, and plenty of waterfront access to Deer Park Lake. A. had a blast poking around in the mossy water with a big stick, and waving to a few ducks and to one beautiful blue heron who was sunning himself (herself?) on the opposite shore. It's the same view you'll get from the Virginia Living Museum, on the other side of the lake, only at 0% of the cost.

But the truly exceptional thing about Deer Park is the playground, which is a Boundless playground, meaning it was specially designed so that children with and without disabilities can play together. Many of the swings feature harnesses and neck supports, the rubber-and-mulch surfacing allows wheelchairs to roll easily over the ground, and each of the large play structures has ramps and wide openings to allow children who might need help getting around to access them. It reminded me a lot of Clemyjontri Park, which we visited frequently when we lived in the DC area, and loved.

We didn't have very long to spend at the park the day we visited, but in the short time we were there, A. did manage to tire herself out enough for an extended nap time, and we both got a ton of much-needed sun and fresh air.


Look at all that light! Have I mentioned that we love Daylight Savings Time?

Nothing's better than a steaming hot pizza pie on a cold winter's day. Click on over to My Active Child to read about our recent visit to Pungo Pizza!

The flu is stalking our household. It got me first, and then Anouk. (J., for the moment, has been spared.) We've been spending a lot of time indoors, naturally. One of the best ways we've found to pass the long hours is to sit in front of our picture window and watch the robin redbreasts who have started congregating in our front yard as we get closer and closer to spring. Last week, we put together some simple bird feeders to make the place a little more comfortable for them. Old toilet paper rolls covered in peanut butter, rolled in birdseed, and strung from the branches of our little maple = bird paradise.


Over the past few months I've been reading a lot about ways to provide kids with a real link to the scientific community, and I think citizen science initiatives are a great way to get started. One such initiative is eBird, an online tool launched by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology and the National Audubon Society to track bird sightings. Bird populations are currently declining all over the world, and the eBird stats collected by birdwatchers help scientists and researchers track the rise and fall of species and give them an idea about the abundance of different birds in different areas.

A. has taken to standing at the door to keep watch over our birdfeeders -- every time she sees a little feathered friend come into view, she calls out, "Bird!" and we rush to the window to gather our stats and write them down: what type of bird (we use Cornell's bird ID tool if we're not sure), how many, and what they're doing. Every few days, we upload our data to eBird. Real science, used by real scientists, and kids can participate in it in a real way. I find that (really) very cool.


As far as our birdfeeders go, they've been pretty successful. In addition to our robins, we've spotted a couple of beautiful cardinals and several amusingly persistent grackles. And a ton of squirrels -- it's too bad they don't also have a tool for tracking squirrel populations. Our backyard squirrel stats could give scientists enough info to keep them going for years.

What about you? Do you think your kids would enjoy using eBird? (You can click here to set up an account). What kind of birds can you see in your yard?