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.

Stonegate Elementary Spelling Bee

On Thursday, I was in my school’s 3rd & 4th grade spelling bee.  I was really nervous when I was in my classroom, but when I got down to the cafeteria, where the spelling bee was  going to take place, I wasn’t as nervous.

(I'm in the second row right behind the left microphone.) 

I went onto the stage with all the other spellers (20 kids) and we all got introduced.  When it was my turn to spell, I was almost shaking, I was so nervous!  But I walked up to the microphone and was surprised at my word, which was intermission, a word I already knew how to spell. 

    I kept spelling my words right shingles, sabbath, cathedral, and disapprove, and wasn’t as nervous.  I got to the 6th  round and was the only 3rd grader left with four other 4th graders.  I got out then, with the word grenade.  They had actually skipped someone else so I didn’t even get the word that I was supposed to spell.  I would've gotten my actual word right, but that's o.k.  My mom said that I was the best speller in the third grade, and it might be true.   I am glad I got to participate in the spelling bee!!

 

P.S.  Mommy felt almost as nervous as Makenna.  I have never had my legs turn to jello feeling nervous for someone else.  I am extremely proud of Makenna for facing her fears and enjoying her experience despite the nerves.  (She didn't mention that the entire school of 650 students was watching via video simulcast in the classrooms!)  I've been boasting for days about how well my little girl did.  Yea, Makenna!!

I WAS HERE

Do you remember learning to write your name?  I don't, but I remember my kids learning to write theirs.  My memories stem mainly from the work it took to remove the graffiti from our bedspreads and walls.

 

 

We see graffiti all over our world - walls in public places, scratched on tree trunks in a national park, doodled on a desk in a classroom.  Humans have a need to be recognized and to mark their territory in some way.  Perhaps that's why we blog, tweet and post on facebook . . .

Alia is joining us in the ranks of the proud, the literate, and those that will never be forgotten.  Recently we have been finding her name on our bathroom wall, on random papers strewn about the house, 

 

and made out of blocks in the playroom.

This is one of the things that makes it fun to be a mommy and one of the reasons I love being a reading teacher/literacy coach.  I love seeing the emerging literacy skills and knowledge that our youngest children are just beginning to grasp.  Their excitement is contagious, even if you sometimes have to wash it out or paint over it.

By the way, I was interrupted in the writing of this post by Alia's exclamation, "Mommy!!  I went poo poo in the potty!!  Come and see my poo poo!"  Linnea is embarrassed that I'd write about defecation on our blog, but this is our family and this is my life day to day.  I never want to forget what it is like when this time is over, and I know that kids soon grow up and it's easy to forget.

Take Pride in the Potty

READERS with WEAK STOMACHS BEWARE . . .

A first word, a first step, learning to ride a bike, a first date.  These are all milestones, but to a 2 or 3 year old, there are few things as exciting as when she first masters the art of going poo poo in the potty.  Some may not find this "Blog-Worthy", but Dave and I have shared this excitement with each of our girls at or around this age.  It may make us seem a bit odd, but we even have documentation and even songs to commemorate the occasion.

With our first child, Linnea, we documented it with a photo taken at the Scarlet's in North Carolina!  Happy Thanksgiving one and all!

With Makenna, it was a photo taken in Glacier.  I find it funny that there is so much TP, you can't even see her pride and joy.

 

Then there is Alia . . . one would think the excitement would wane with the 3rd child, but not so.  I feel that with the 3rd child there is increased excitement and even relief due to the fact that potty training is finally coming to an end.

 To all who are potty training, have potty trained a child in the past, or who are potty trained, I salute you!  Congratulations! (And I hope I haven't scared you away from our blog forever.)

Christmas is . . . Meatballs

Yes, I enjoy meat.  But, it wasn’t the meat -- the meat was raw.  Three days before Christmas, David and I gathered the family together to make the traditional Swedish meatballs we would take to the Benson Family Christmas Eve Dinner.  Makenna, Alia, and I spent nearly an hour scooping teaspoonfuls of meat and forming them into balls that David would brown on the stove.  Alia’s were often way too big.  She had meat mixture between her fingers and up to her elbows.  Makenna and I secretly re-formed her meatballs to a reasonable size before they went to Dave at the stove.  Linnea, who didn’t want anything to do with raw meatball goo, still wanted to work with us.  She set about cutting bread for the Christmas Day dressing and acted as our official photographer.  There we were:  dirty dishes piled up to our ears, gifts yet to wrap, toys strewn about the family room, with Xerxes waiting for us to drop handouts.  We were  working together & laughing.  We were making memories for years to come.

Each year I desire to enjoy the “perfect” Christmas season.  My vision is one of Christmas music playing softly in a quiet, tidy house, with clean children peacefully playing games at the kitchen table.  The gifts are purchased (on sale) in September and are wrapped early and placed beneath a beautifully decorated tree in a designer living room, where I am curled up to enjoy the days of waiting in front of the fireplace with my husband, a great book and a glass of wine.

Never mind the fact that my vision is unrealistic and formed by Dickens, Hallmark, and the media.  I get it!  But, I still aim for it.  As a result of my unrealistic yearnings, I annually set myself up for disappointment.  I end up dreading the work that promises to make my family’s Christmas “picture perfect”.  I furrow my brow and fake a smile as I set about orchestrating the details behind the perfect gifts, decorating, errand running, list making, house cleaning, cookie baking, & Christmas-memory-making entertainment that will fulfill my vision.

This year, however, surprised me.  The lead-up to Christmas was much like any year, but in review, my favorite things weren’t the house, the music, the gifts, or the “vision”.  (Most of that didn’t happen like I planned anyway.)  When David and I stopped to talk about our favorite memories from this holiday season, my mind kept returning to individual moments that I’ll remember:  watching Alia dance in her new ballet clothes, changing outfits every few minutes; watching the big girls shop for each other and pay for their gifts with their allowance money; a breakfast out with David 2 weeks before Christmas; and last, but not least . . . the meatballs.

Stuck in Jail (Braces)

By Makenna Benson

Pretzel's Point of View
        I think she got her jail bars about 4 months ago.  Now I’m stuck here until Makenna brushes her teeth.  I can’t remember how I got here or why, but somehow I got here at lunchtime.  I haven’t eaten since!  That’s a major problem because I’m starving.  Maybe I’ll have to eat myself, a chewed up pretzel. 
        You know, I would rather be where I started out, as a pretzel.  I guess I shouldn’t wish too hard because that isn’t likely to happen.  So I won’t get my hopes up too high.  On the other hand, I don’t want to get out because then I would get washed down the sink.  I know that because when I was sitting on the counter waiting patiently for Makenna to pick me up and eat me, I looked around and saw the sink.  It was making grumbling noises.  I was totally freaked out!  It’s scary to think about.  I decided to name it The Sink Monster.  Maybe it won’t be as bad as I’m making it sound.  At least I’ll be with more food.  I’m not feeling so bad now.  In fact, I made friends with the sandwich.
It’s time to get brushed out of Makenna’s mouth.  I’m super, ultra nervous!  Uh, oh!  Here comes goo on a hairbrush like thingy.  Yikes!  It just touched me!  Hey, that actually feels pretty good.  Awesome!!!  This feels sooo good - at least better than being chewed.  It really paid off.  Time for her to spit.  This is the part I’ve been dreading!  Here I go.  Wee! That was fun! It kind of hurt, but . . . whatever.
          Now for the worst part of my trip… the shower.  It’s going to wipe me down the sink right to The Sink Monster.  Here it goes, and there I went. . . It’s not so bad down here after all.  Cool!

Makenna’s point of view

          “Makenna, time for lunch,” hollered Mommy.
          “Ok,” I replied.
          I walked over to the counter and picked up my plate of food.  Oh yah!  It’s my favorite, an egg salad sandwich with pretzels.  After lunch, I went into the family room and played Wii for a while.  Later, I wrote in my journal.  My teeth were really bothering me all afternoon.  So annoying!!  There were pretzels stuck in my braces.
          “I know,” I thought, “I’ll go brush my toofums.”  I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth.
          “That’s better!” I said.