Update on Lenten project

A little update on our Lenten project:  I decided Frances had been watching much too much television and that we would be cutting back for Lent.  She would still be allowed to watch before her daddy woke up in the morning and then whatever was playing at the gym, but that would be it until the weekend, when all bets were off.  I'd say we were fairly successful, with only one or two slip ups in the forty days of Lent.  The state of the house definitely suffered, but I also noticed that the less television Frances watched, the less she asked for it.  Not quite sure how to put this, but it reminded me of an addict coming off a drug - the less she used, the less she needed to use.  To me, this means the "less is more" route is the way to go.

Here's Ms. Frances enjoying one of our lovely Spring afternoons with some chalk in the driveway - not watching television.

Maybe next year, we'll give up television altogether for Lent.  Think Mark and Frances would kill me?

Welcoming the Happy Morning, in Jamaica Plain

Happy Easter to all!  Here's Frances, ready for the day.

This Easter was a bit different from last Easter.  Last Easter, Mark was busy studying, so Frances and I went without him to our beloved Christ Church in Cambridge.  Later, we met up with Mark and dined at a vegan restaurant in Harvard Square.  This year, we all got to celebrate together.  We are somewhat between churches this year, having yet to find a nearby church that feels like home.  We've been attending Trinity Episcopal Church in Boston.  It's a terribly proper place.  Mark loves that the service starts very early and doesn't eat up the day.  I love that the children's choir wears proper robes (I've got standards when it comes to acceptable attire for children's choirs).  Frances loves that we take the train to church.  Not a great way to pick a church, but it will do for now.  The Easter service was full of pomp and fanfare, and over by about 9:30.  This is Frances strutting her stuff in front of the church and the people lined up for the 10:00 service.

Unlike last year, this Easter was very un-vegan.  We went to a little cafe after church where Mark had biscuits and sausage gravy.  Then we came home and ate quiche, ham, salad and strawberry shortcake.  We even kept Frances up late (7:30!) so we could play outside together in the lengthening Spring evening.  A very festive day.

Twenty-Nine Months of Toddler Frances

On Frances's twenty-nine months birthday, we went to an Easter egg hunt in the next suburb over.  It was a bit nuts, like this:

That's us waiting in line for the hunt to begin.  The hunt was advertised as offering 5,000 eggs to find, but there were so many kids hunting those eggs that I think the whole thing was over in less than a minute and a half.  No kidding.  Another mother waiting in line told me that egg hunts are being cancelled because the parents are getting overly aggressive.  I thought that was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard, and then some big five year-old with a bucket full of eggs was eyeing the last egg I could see available for Frances.  It's possible I gave the five year-old's father a dirty look, completely involuntarily, of course, and he kept her in check.  And here's Frances with the one egg she got. One. Uno. Un.

Now the monthly update:

• Learning:  She now counts from One!  And can sometimes make it to 19.  Sometimes.  She can also identify some numbers, especially if they correspond with one of her favorite train friends.  She's strongest on the numbers 1 and 6, because those are Thomas and Percy's (everyone else talks about trains all day with their kids, too, right?).
• Favorite reads:  I'm really enjoying Frances's favorite reads right now.  The heavy hitters are Blueberries for Sal, by Robert McCloskey; Where The Wild Thing Are, by Maurice Sendak (the perfect length for us right now); Here's a Little Poem: A Very First Book of Poetry, collected by Jane Yolen and Andrew Fusek Peters; Pinkerton, Behave!, by Steven Kellogg (I edit the content a little, but Frances doesn't notice); and Cops and Robbers, by Janet and Allen Ahlberg.  Oh, and then there's the giant book of Thomas the Tank Engine that Frances's Auntie Jocelyn sent us, complete with 700 Thomas stickers.  Thanks so much there, Auntie Jocelyn.
• Favorite phrase: "Two at once, mama, two at once."  This falls firmly into the camp of things I can't explain, but Frances loves instances of things happening "two at once," like when she brought me two shoes at one time.
• The L Word:  Early in the month, Frances said to her father, "I love you, daddy."  Two weeks later, she came up with, "I love you, mama."  Two minutes after that, she said, "I love you, Henry."  Henry is not some other adult who has been caring for her night and day for the past twenty-nine months.  No.  Henry is a little boy who frequents the gym nursery.  She's also managed to throw out "I no love you, mama."  A five-word phrase.  I'm so proud.
• Food wars:  She's big on powdered milk and toothpaste, separately, not together.  And I've more or less given up hope.
• Sleep: She's mostly given up napping, but it means she's asleep for the night around 6:45.  Not ideal, but not awful.
• Obsessions: Trains, trains, trains...

Making life more...interesting

I'm not sure what possessed me, but I really wanted to try dying eggs with natural dye this year.  Maybe because it seemed like more of a project for Frances and me to do together, maybe because the naturally dyed eggs I've seen in magazines look so nice.  Regardless, I wanted to give it a shot.  So Frances and I mashed grapes and peeled oranges and measured paprika, among other things.  (A note on Frances's outfit in the first three pictures:  She started the day in a turtle neck and hot pink pants.  Then she added a ballerina skirt and a pink corduroy dress and a "babysuit" to top it off.  Thanks for the handy-me-downs, Auntie Jocelyn.  They've been a big hit.) 

Grapes in the pot?  Check.

Orange peel in the even-bigger pot?  Check, plus some actual orange Frances threw in for good measure.

Put the pots on the stove and boil for a bit.

All the dyes ready for use.  Frances needed to be convinced these eggs weren't for peeling.

And the finished product on Easter.  We let the eggs sit over night in the dye, but when we removed the eggs from the dye they didn't look like much, to put it mildly.  I thought the whole project was a bust, but then Mark arranged the eggs in a pretty bowl and towel and they looked much better.

I'm very tempted to try again next year with some stronger dye, but I also know Frances might have more fun dropping eggs into good old Paas dye, waiting a minute, and pulling out bright eggs, so we'll see.

Saturdays at my house

Mark and I have a nice Saturday morning ritual worked out.  I get up first thing and do our weekly grocery shopping and Mark stays home with Frances and watches programs.  It works out well for all of us.  I get some alone time and get to shop without a two-year old.  Mark gets to stay in bed for a bit and avoids Market Basket, the grocery store I prefer but that he considers one of the circles of hell.  Frances gets her program fix for the week and gets to eat those cookies I'm opposed to but that Daddy doesn't mind.

Last Saturday, I came home to find both Daddy and Frances still in bed, both with their own computers.  They waved at me while I lugged in grocery bags and then went back to their screens.  What bliss for them!