We went all over the place this week; we have a truly amazing central location at a local university's conference center. From here, we are in striking distance by foot of most major downtown sites--even with three kids six and under.
On Our Stroller System
A big THANK YOU to whomever it was who suggested we bring the stroller over the hiking backpack. It has made this week possible. Not only does it carry and restrain my two-year-old, it also doubles as a kid-carrier if one adjusts his seatbelt appropriately and lays the seat all the way back so that the big kid can scrunch up piggy-back style behind. As if that weren't enough to make the thing snap--a real testimony to its engineering and construction if you ask me--I have found that the handlebars make a decent seat (*ahem) for a third medium-size child who also cannot walk...seven...more...blocks. I wish I had a picture of this to share, but whenever we were loaded in this fashion, someone had to do the heavy pushing.
Nothing surprises these city people more than a clown-car-stroller, in my experience. Not a three-block series of three women in headscarves and robes all holding strikingly similar signs that say they have children and need money for rent. Not any outrageous hairstyle or fashion. Not any price on any super-shiny car parked in a showroom. Not any simultaneous honking of horns the second a light turns green, blaring of siren, taxi-whistling of doorman, clip-clop of horses pulling a carriage, not rumble of garbage truck engine; not random people singing loudly as you come upon them. Not seven dozen nine-year-old girls will American Girl Dolls tucked underarm. They seems completely unphased--and in fact, impervious and oblivious.
I did see a couple of slightly confused faces at the sound of a super-chatty-four-year-old offering to pick up all of their playground toys for them; by a kid having a full-out weeping screaming "I want to watch WILD KRATTS" tantrum in the middle of the sidewalk nowhere near a tv; by a kid yelling, "It's somebody's birthday in this playground!" in honor of her little brother; and by a kid getting mostly stuck in the revolving door and her mom not noticing that she had even gone into it...but stick three kids in a single stroller, and you will really get comments. "Whoa! How many do you have in there? Are you sure?"
Perhaps next week I will be brave enough to tackle the public transit system, but for now until it breaks in half, the triple stroller serves well.
On Enjoying the Arts with Small Children
Team Rankin values the arts in general and the humanities in particular, so I sat in on workshops with and subsequently chatted with music historian and promoter-of-teaching-the-arts Professor Carol Reynolds of professorcarol.com the last two years at the HEAV homeschool convention in Richmond. I wanted her to help me figure out what to do to help my kids enjoy the arts opportunities in all these cities this year. Her thought, which made perfect sense to me, was to just get out there with wee kids and let them experience stuff: what do we see? what do we hear? what do we smell? what is the feel of it? If that leads into some kind of little discussion about anything, we will have learned something that matters to them.
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| Two pennies from Noelle's change purse made their way into this fountain in front of the Water Tower. They also enjoyed yelling at the flock of pigeons. Did you know pigeons come in the traditional gray, but also black and brown? At least they appeared to be pigeons....ask me about chickens and cows and you'll be more in my specialty. |
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| See us appreciate architecture and history at this castle! that is, the 1869 Water Tower that survived the GREAT FIRE of 1871. There are a number of plaques around commemorating surviving pieces of the city. Yes, it may appear that we are just playing in the fountain and yelling at pigeons, but do not be deceived. |
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| Now here is some more art we stumbled upon in front of St. James Episcopal Cathedral on Wabash St. Why is there a foot? Why is it read? What happened to the rest of it? Why is there a boot print being made by it? We don't know, but Joel thinks that the man's foot was too big for his flip flop and that's why his toes are sticking out. I should also point out that Joel spent most of this week insisting that his name is Stanley. |
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| The Oak Street Beach at Lake Michigan got the kids really sandy and windblown. The crashing surf was very much like an ocean--definitely not for swimming today. |
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| We enjoyed watching these people try to fly their kite, mostly unsucessfully, in the vigorous wind. |
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| Uncle Sam has long had a place in our vernacular, so I wasn't about to miss this mural on the way home from the Oak St. Beach. Noelle forced a smile in spite of being crushed about losing her little box of found treasures (a piece of jewelry and pop bottle lids, mostly) in the sand. |
A successful first day, if you ask me. The rest of the week was more of the same; perhaps I can get some more pictures up soon if I can get any thoughts to go with them. Missing friends, home, and family, but hanging in there and trying to enjoy ourselves.
