Our Trip to Washington, D.C. & The Maryland Bensons: Stop #1

Alia enjoyed her visit to Antietam National Battlefield.  This photo was taken near Mumma Farm and Cemetary.  This was after the bloody, visitor center movie during which she continued to ask, "Are those the bad guys?"  I had a hard time explaining perspective and point of view to her, so I just said that yes, the Union soldiers were the good guys, the Confederates were the bad guys.  (Sorry to all my southern friends & family).  She chose to stay in the car at many of our auto-tour stops, and continued to ask us if we were lost on the way to Uncle Jamie and Aunt Corinna's house. 

The Bloody Lane - We had a hard time envisioning how this sunken farm road was, at one time, filled with thousands of dead soldiers, piled one upon the other. 

The observation tower was built after the war for training purposes.  Linnea, Makenna, and I climbed to the top and waved to Alia in the van below.  It was lots of steps to the top; I think Linnea counted 69.  The views of the surrounding fields and former battlefield were amazing.

Is it okay to pose and smile next to a cannon, knowing that nearly 23,000 men died on this battlefield, some as a result of that cannon's shot?  It didn't seem quite right, but we did it anyway. I haven't been to enough battlefields to know battlefield etiquette.

Burnside Bridge and the surrounding countryside were so peaceful and picturesque.  It was hard to imagine the sights and sounds that would have filled those idyllic places on September 17, 1862.

Daffodils at Burnside Bridge

The cannon are original, their supports and wheels rebuilt since the war.  We didn't realize that "cannon" could be the plural form of the word "cannon".  Now we know.  You can also say "cannons", that's okay, too.  The more you write the word, though, the stranger it looks . . .

Never have we seen so many statues and memorial plaques in the middle of the countryside.  So many men died that day.  So many lives changed forever.  This was an unexpected stop on our trip to see our family and D.C., but I highly recommend stopping there for an afternoon or for the day.  We could have spent much more time hiking, driving, looking, playing, reading headstones, and stepping back in time.

Antietam National Battlefield
http://www.nps.gov/anti/index.htm

 

"Oh, Mommmyyy . . .," sings Alia from the playroom, "Will you play a game with me?"

"Oh, Mommmyyy . . .," sings Alia from the kitchen, "Can I have a snack?"

"Oh, Mommmyyy . . .," sings Alia from the bathtub, "I'm ready to get out."

"Oh, Mommmyyy . . .," sings Alia from the backdoor, "Can you get me some toilet paper?"

Yes, the back door, where she stood in the sunshine, peering up at me with her jeans and underpants around her ankles.

"Toilet paper??  Why?" I asked with a wrinkled brow, trying to hide a slight grin as I thought, "Un-be-lievable.  I wish there were someone else here to witness this scene."

"I went poo poo." she confessed. 

 

Actually, it was more of a statement than a confession.  I'm sure it made perfect sense to her.  Of course she should go #2 in the back yard when the family pees along the trail all summer long.  Of course she should go in the back yard when her best friend, Xerxes, does it all the time.

"Where?"  Not only did I need to see it to believe it, but I had to know where to go to clean it up.  If it were real.

She pointed to a spot in the flowerbeds, about a foot from the deck, "There."  It was real, alright.  I'd recognize that stuff anywhere.

"Wait right there," I told her.  I quickly turned and ran indoors to get toilet paper and bags for picking up the mess.  I made it back within a few seconds.  But, I was a few seconds too late.

Though I knew the answer before I asked the question, I asked her anyway, "Where did it go?"

She smirked and looked at the dog before answering, "Xerxes ate it."

I totally missed the teachable moment about digging a cat-hole 6 inches deep.  I did remember to tell her that, most of the time, we go potty in the toilet rather than the yard.  Unless, of course, you're 3 and your best friend is hungry.