#artsplash our Grand Adventures: Philadelphia Museum of Art

i'm starting in the middle/end of our summer Grand Adventures, because this program actually ends on September 7, so you can still make it if you rush!

you know how sometimes places advertise a Kid's Program! then when you get there it's lame, understaffed, out of paper, broken crayons, empty stands where demonstrations should be...that kind of thing. you feel me, right?

well, rest assured--Art Splash at the Philadelphia Museum of Art is NONE of those things. it is absolutely awesome.

let's break it down.

please excuse the crookedness of this photo. i'm blogging, you can't expect photo editing, too...#babysteps

TRANSPORTATION: two moms, one grandmom, 10 kids ranging from 15 to 3. we caught the train (septa regional rail), which is a 5 minute drive from our house, and a 45 minute ride to the city. you can get a Family Independence Pass for $29. it covers 2 adults and up to 5 children on rail, bus and subway for one whole day. plus you don't have to fight the traffic and construction on 95. #ugh

it's about a mile to a mile and a half from Suburban Station to the Art Museum. (you're much closer to the Drexel University Academy of Natural Science, the Franklin Institute, the Free Library, etc.) not really a terrible walk, so long as it's not 200% humidity. but what it lacks in physical coolness is made up for in the idiomatic coolness of culture and experiences (like the homeless town just past the Rodin Museum)

checking out the GIGANTIC screens in the comcast building

real talk: regional rail is relatively clean and safe. mostly commuters headed into or home from work, or college students. if you miss rush hours there's a good chance you'll have plenty of room. and once you get past the hairy parts of making sure your kiddos don't fall onto the tracks (not gonna lie, that gives me all sorts of heart palpitations. even standing 10 feet away and holding on to them for dear life) and making sure you don't miss your train, it's basically stress-free. you can drink your DD and laugh at all the fools stuck on 95.

THE MUSEUM: admission is $20/adult, kids under 12 are free. your ticket is valid for 2 consecutive days, and also gets you admission to the Rodin Museum and the Perelman Building. (plus you get that sweet little metal button with a foldover tab to clip on your shirt, and i'm instantly in 3rd grade again)

there are a lot of discounts if you keep your eyes open. we actually grabbed Groupons for this trip, so we paid a little less. you can check the museum website for more info.

real talk: the museum is obviously an experience in and of itself, but honestly the thought of taking children under the age of 10 into echo-y marble halls filled with priceless works gives me the cold sweats. they. don't. whisper. they don't understand that yes it's a chair but NO DON'T SIT IN THAT CHAIR IT'S NOT ACTUALLY FOR SITTING and no, this ISN'T the museum where you can touch things. but this program helps with that. i'd go so far as to say that Art Splash made us feel welcome, and made the museum feel more accessible.

Art Splash starts in their studio. there's a new "theme" every 2 weeks, and we hit S is for Shadow. the staff (who are super nice) demonstrate an art project, hand out supplies, and let you have at it. no time limits, no pressure.

the studio also has a little reading area with comfy chairs and some toys for smaller siblings who quickly lose interest.

once you're done there, hand over your license and get an Ipad mini. it's all set up with their scavenger hunt type program, based on the book "A is for Art Museum". letter by letter the Ipad leads you around the museum, tracking your progress and congratulating you when you find the next work. At each stop the program gives you a little more: arrange your adult in the same position as the statue, watch a video about how this was made, listen to the  sounds the birds in this tapestry make, use the flashlights to find more details, etc.

it gives them a PURPOSE. there's something for them to DO now, besides walk and walk and NOT TOUCH, and something to look for besides boobies and pee-pees. (you know it's true and don't lie)

you also have access to the closest bathroom location, on demand. thumbs up.

along the way we ran into another art stop, where the kids made and played with shadow puppets. we have big plans of recreating this activity at home.

it took us about 3 hours to do the whole alphabet, with a break for lunch.

the museum seems to be trying hard to involve you in the experience. there's touch screens to explain smaller exhibits, we translated our names into Korean and printed them out, and we only had one run in with security...when the 3 and 4 year olds decided to climb on an ancient column capital. oops.

after we finished and returned our Ipad, we spent some time in the Art Splash Gallery, which is right outside the studio. more artwork on display, including some hands on exhibits. like this magnetic leaf tree, which we rainbowtized for them. you're welcome.

so in case it's not obvious, we had a blast. i highly recommend this activity, and fully plan on doing it again next summer if they have it.

RATINGS:
mom: ☻☻☻☻☺
"ha! made you learn in summer!"

guinevere (age 15) ☻☻☻☻☻
"the art museum is amazing"

harrison (age 13): ☻☻☻☻☺
"it was fun."

ava (age 11) ☻☻☻☻☻/☺ (that's 4.5 happy faces)
"there was a lot of beautiful art"

gigi (age 6) ☻☻☻☻☻
"i number it 10 happy faces"

elliot (age 4) ☻☻☻☻☻
"i liked it super super super much"

BONUSES: obviously, there's letting your kids do the Rocky run up the front steps, even if they have absolutely no idea who or what he is.
Rocky himself is no longer on the top of the steps, he's relocated to an area at the bottom right in the trees.

also, i highly recommend sister cities park, especially if it's hot. it's about a 10 minute walk back towards city hall. they've created an oasis in the heart of the city. kids can explore and splash and burn off the energy built up by all that NOT TOUCHING.

course correction.

i don’t set resolutions based on new year’s. i feel like i’m a person in a constant state of flux—the best time to begin something new or make a change is immediately after thinking it over and making the decision in your head. DO IT. right now.
i guess on it’s face that can translate out as slightly ADD tendencies: i think of something, i mull it over, i start. sometimes that process takes minutes, sometimes days.
but i’m easily bored and—these days—extremely forgetful, so if i don’t get going immediately chances are it won’t happen.

what was i talking about?

oh. so i had a big thought, and i’m acting on it. thing is, i haven’t been feeling like the greatest momma lately. life, tired, stressed, sicknesses, sewing, cooking, cleaning, blogging, working…blah blah blah. bottom line it: too much, and my babies were getting the short end of the stick.

they were getting meals, and baths, and clean laundry. they weren’t getting tickles, and songs, and silly faces. they didn’t have mommy just sitting on the couch sans phone/project taking up the place in my lap where they should be. there was a lack of tower building, game playing, picture drawing. too much time in front of the tv. too much.

every evening i crawled into my bed—i need “me” time, even if that trite phrase isn’t how i put it in my head. i didn’t want to be mommy anymore—no more questions, no more Solomon like decision making, no more barking out orders. my kids were left to their own devices so i could clear my head with some crocheting and telephonernetting.

there’s nothing wrong with that—every mommy needs her time and space. it makes for a better mommy. but i was becoming a selfish mommy. i did the things i HAD to do. the things that keep our family alive and relatively functional, meanwhile retreating further and further away from being a Momma who’s there and present and engaged. i realized i was not even LOOKING at my children. conversations were happening while my eyes and 50% of my attention was focused elsewhere. that is huge, because looking someone in the eye is a mark of respect as far as i’m concerned. and as much as they need to respect me as a parent, i need to respect them as people. i was failing miserably.

i was mothering just enough to begin to hate mothering. i’m doing all the grunt work, without taking the time to enjoy all the rewarding stuff. it was twisted up in my brain—do the hard stuff and my reward was alone time, instead of my reward being pleasant times with my children.

and it shows in them, too. picking at each other, fighting…a general feeling of annoyance in our home. it was me thinking about all that—how we got to this place where there was shouting and fighting so much when they used to get along and cooperate so well—that brought me to my senses. the fact is they’re confused. with so much time spent parenting themselves and each other the lines between sibling relationships were become blurred and lost. everyone has their place in the home, and i was neglecting mine, leaving a large hole that my children kept tripping in.

i’m not perfect. obviously. but i’ve been thinking—hard—about what is happening in my life and my home and my family right now. i feel like there is a giant clock ticking over my shoulder. i suppose it’s along the lines of a woman’s biological clock—once the children have come it starts counting down the hours and days you have to perfect this parenting gig.

tick tick tick you have a 13 year old daughter. have you taught her the important things about womanhood that she needs to know? are you giving her  a good self-image? is she learning the life skills she’ll need to thrive? does she have a relationship with her father that’s strong enough to keep her from seeking out the creepy boys and men that prey on girls with daddy issues?

tick tock tick tock you have an 11 year old son. have you built up your relationship with him to a good enough place that you’re ready to face the coming trials of tween/teen-agehood? is he learning the skills and lessons to become a good man, husband, father someday? is he learning from you the right way to treat women, to eat dinner (not like a cow), to hold the door open for people?

tick tick tick you have a 9 year old daughter. she is the middle child and feels her divided place strongly. sometimes she’s grouped with the older siblings, sometimes with the younger. she needs more attention, more understanding, more patience. are you doing that? or are you pushing her away because she’s clingy and you’re crushing candy? how much will you regret that decision when she’s 15 and doesn’t want to talk to you anymore?

tick tock tick tock you have a five year old daughter. she’s spunky and friendly and if there’s anyone who will run off with a stranger to help them find their puppy it’s HER. have you taught her enough? she’s going to kindergarten in 8 months and wants to learn so badly. you promised to do “home preschool” with her and the supplies have sat unused for months. why?

tick tick tick you have a 2 year old daughter. this morning you sang twinkle twinkle with her in bed and couldn’t remember the last time you did that. or read a book together. she sang her ABC’s to you and you knew you weren’t the one responsible for teaching her that. she’s asking where “ava-mommy” is. did you color together today?

my clock is ticking—loudly and harshly. fortunately it’s also an alarm clock. i’ve pushed snooze one too many times and it’s time for me to wake up. i get one shot at this parenting thing, and i’m not going to do it perfectly, but i can certainly do better than i am now.

so i’ve been absent from here. no blogging, no blog reading, no less hours spent wasted on googling such vital things as “subway tile with gray grout images”. i’ve put down my phone and done less instagraming, less texting, less stupid stupid game playing. i’m trying to find a new balance—one that let’s me do the grunt work, enjoy the rewarding children time, and still have the husband and wife time and the just shannon time. dude. that’s not an easy task.

so please excuse the dust while my life is under renovation.

perfectly imperfect: simple sewing book review (+ giveaway!)

in typical social media tangled web fashion, i can’t even remember how i first came across katie of the red kitchen. i know it was on instagram, where i followed the writing and development of her book like i was watching updates on the development of a baby. and i think, for her, it was.

so when she sent out the call for some bloggers who would be willing to review her book after it’s birth (!) i volunteered right away. i had watched this thing from it’s infancy, i kind of feel like a grandmom. or at least a really cool but distant aunt.



meet katie’s adorable bouncing baby book: SIMPLE SEWING: 30 Fast and Easy Projects for Beginners.

here’s the thing: i can’t even begin to count the amount of times people have said to me “i wish i could sew” or “you need to teach me to sew”. the truth is sewing isn’t rocket science. and if you have the ability to read and the desire to learn then this book is exactly what you need—a primer for learning the basics. learning your way around fabric and notions and a machine and pumping out a couple decent projects to build your confidence and get you excited.

let’s dive in, shall we?



the beginning of the book gives you an illustrated overview of the tools—both big and small—you’ll need, why you’ll need them, what kind to look for, and how to use them. everything from needles to irons.



next up is a detailed explanation of the techniques you’re going to need for all the book’s projects: how to pin, how to stitch…all the basics.



then the book is broken up into (very logical) groupings of projects, which makes it easy to find the one you’re looking for.



and here’s where the book really shines—not only are there gorgeous full-color and full-page illustrations throughout…



each step of each project has a corresponding photo showing you exactly what to do. if you’re a visual learner this is priceless. even as an experienced sewer there are times i simply do not understand a written instruction in a pattern. it is quite true: a picture is worth a thousand words.

and at the back of the book you’ll find all the patterns for your projects, which can be traced or copied. or cut right out if you’re a rebel.



so what did i do with my book?

my girls are some of the people who have asked me countless times “will you teach me to sew?” they want to Make Things. i even bought them their own machine. but i know my limits and a big one is that i am just NOT a teacher. i don’t have the patience, the organizational skills…i want to jump in and fix the mistakes myself, make it perfect, make it right the way i would do it.
this is tough to admit--but i even seriously entertained the thought of putting the girls in a sewing class at joann’s. how dumb is that? i feel strongly that they should learn to sew, but i convinced myself i lacked the ability to be their teacher.

this book serves as the perfect buffer. i realize now it was just what i needed. even the best of teachers uses a textbook as the basis for what they’re teaching.
this is our sewing class book.

i set ava loose on it first, and she picked the toy camera project.



i let her pick fabrics, and helped her cut her pieces. i gave her some little tips, showed her how to organize everything and how to follow the step-by-step directions. i was there to guide and lend a helping hand, but she did it.



at first she waited for my guidance between steps, but by the end she was off and running on her own. i’ve given her basic sewing machine instruction, so with the illustrated instructions in the book she could easily proceed without my help.



and in the end she had a toy camera.



an actual for real project that she made herself. are the stitches wonky? the circles less circle-y and more octagon-y? yup.



and that’s what makes it perfect.
but we didn’t stop there. that’s the fun of a house full of kiddos. when word spreads that there’s “projects” happening…



gigi wanted in. and the book was awesome yet again: she picked a project and fabric and we got to work. i was a little more involved this time, but we learned how to follow directions, how to measure and cut and pin…



she sat on my lap for the sewing—official Pin Puller and Presser Foot Lifter.



then we pushed out corners and filled our warmers with rice…



and voila. two hand warmers. also perfectly imperfect.



she was nervous about how hot they were (not very)



so she donned some protective…socks.
and there you have it.



these two little projects represent together about an hour and a half of my time and a monetary investment of $0.
but more importantly—they represent the first time we have successfully done sewing projects from start to finish together. they show me that i can teach my girls to sew, and watch it happen without frustration on any of our parts. i didn’t realize what i was missing all along was direction for me, not them. (yes yes, there’s a “priceless” joke in here somewhere. i’ll spare you.)

so, now that i’ve touched your hearts so deeply you can’t wait to have such memory-making moments with your own offspring (or you want to learn yourself)…



you can purchase a copy of katie’s SIMPLE SEWING book from any of these retailers:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Books & Things

you can also check out some other projects from/reviews of katie's book by visiting her website.
and be sure and swing by today's other reviewer--the incredible delia creates--and see what she did!

AND you also have a chance to win a copy of SIMPLE SEWING here by entering below!

before i go i just want to say again that this book is seriously awesome—i honestly mean it. if you want to teach someone—whether an adult or a child to sew, or you want to teach yourself you sew, this book is a must-have place to start. thanks, katie, for letting me be a part of your virtual baby shower book tour!

*please note this contest is open to US shipping addresses only. 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

party time. excellent.

as i lay in my cell phone-lit room last night pondering various metaphors to begin this post, i struck upon one that seems fairly obvious. but it fits, so here goes.
it’s like a storm. you see the big black thunderheads off in the distance, but first you’re optimistic—cocky even. pshaw. that’s gonna pass us right by. good westerly wind will blow it right on past.

but it doesn’t work that way—the clouds continue to build and drift menacingly closer and before you know it drops of rain are hitting your shoulders and you’re still thinking it’s okay. really. we’re going to be okay because this will be quick and you know what? in a way it’s almost good. we can use the rain.

it doesn’t much matter what kind of face you put on it though. in the end it’s going to happen just like you knew it would from the first sign of inclement weather. so when it’s like threat level magenta or something and panic mode hits and you’re running for shelter (and now i’m mixing metaphors but it’s okay because IT’S THAT BAD) the last thing you can think is we’ll all be alright in the end. we can make it through because we have plenty of canned food and a good clean up team.

here it comes people. and i hope you’re ready.

it’s like a tornado. no. it’s like wildfire combined with a tornado. not good enough.  make that a wildfire enhanced sharknado, because when you have five kids and the first one cries “my belly hurts” you kinda feel like the lady spying the thunderheads.

then that one starts hurling and you’re all hey. we can do this. you’re still not so sleep-deprived that you can’t joke with your significant other in the middle of the night. babe, if you’re gonna spew, spew in this. ::gigglesnort::
you’re awesome, you got this, changing sheets and doing laundry and running baths at 3 am is kind of exhilirating in a deep-in-the-trenches-of-parenthood-these-are-the-moments-that-make-up-our-lives sort of way.

but by the end of it you’re creeping cautiously from your shelter, blinking in the sunlight and whispering it’s alright. we have plenty of canned food and a good cleanup team.

we were hit hard two years ago, and i waxed poetically about it then. but last year we were spared and i should have known—the odds were certainly NOT in our favor for this year.

one down, four to go.
errr….i’m sorry. update. make that two down, three to go. wildfire sharknado, people.
i find myself pondering such brain benders as how old should a child be to have to dump and rinse their own puke bucket without you being a Bad Mommy? because i gotta tell ya, about 5 is my limit. ::heave, heave::

and not to be completely disgusting…okay, yes sorry i’m about keeping it real. so to be completely disgusting and because my husband and i came of age in the 90’s we think we’re terribly funny when we say, dude. she didn’t throw up. she blew chunks. because yeah, that’s exactly what elliot did. and once you know the difference you KNOW the difference.

and elliot—who shall henceforth be known as Patient Zero, lay there listening she looked up at me with ruddy cheeks and glassy eyes and said…

chunks.

yes, elliot. chunks.

mommy. chunk is not yummy. chunks is stinky.

you’re absolutely right elliot. now can someone pass me the can opener.

sweat ‘n sew

the sweat:

i hit week 4 of couch-to-5K a month ago. A MONTH. for various reasons i’ve been unable to make the jump to week 5.
until today.

i did week 5, day 1 this morning (a run 5-walk 3-5-3-5 combo) and i felt great. really. it’s insane to me. i’ve never been able to run so much as a 1/2 mile. shoot, 1/4 mile was too far. no matter how good of shape i was in, i’m no runner. between the asthma and…well, the “ladies”…i don’t exactly have a runner’s physique.

and tomorrow i go a solid 8 minutes.

i’m also into week 2 of 30 days of green smoothies. it’s…okay. i’ve made my peace with not chewing. and i think i may actually be seeing some results. possibly.

the sew:

really this is like a Flashback post. Way back Wednesday? whatever. because this skirt + blazer were made for guinevere. as you can see…

it was made for an 8-year old guinevere, and somehow got missed for ms. ava, and so now it’s a touch too small to wear. but before it goes back up to the attic to await an 8-year-old gigi* i wanted to get some pics. for posterity.

*really gigi will probably be 12 before this fits her. but at least the letter will be right again.

they were so cute in their matching outfits. i blogged about a 4-year-old ava’s here. and what i don’t have pics of is the matching tie i made harrison. :(

all my three babies in matching burberry-ish plaid found at wallyworld for $1/YARD. it never gets old saying that. ONE DOLLAR.

i used a pattern for this, and i remember clearly how i struggled with that blazer. and how stinkin’ proud of myself i was when i conquered it and it was wearable.

these outfits were the first time i sewed where i felt like it was GOOD. you know? i felt like i was proud of these, and they didn’t look “homemade”. these dresses were a turning point in my sewing—where i really felt like this was something i could do. i was proud of how each girl’s dress was a nod to their age: the vintage peter pan collared dress for the 4 year old, the more sophisticated blazer and skirt for the 8 year old, tied together by matching fabrics and black velvet accents.

but clearly i still had things to learn…like matching plaids on a back seam. couldn’t be bothered back then, i guess.

ha. who am i kidding. i still can’t really be bothered. ;)

the water house

do you get that fear, just before leaving for a well-anticipated vacation, that it’s not going to be what you hoped? that the weather will disappoint, the kids will bicker too much, the location will be a bust?

i’m sure i’m not the only one. and as we packed up to leave for our long weekend at the house in the woods i told jeremy how scared i was that this trip wasn’t going to be the relaxing, family-building excursion i had built up in my head.

boy was i wrong.

it was everything we hoped.

sure, the kids fought some. but not too much. and the dishwasher on the house broke and leaked all over the kitchen floor, but whatever. and harrison had four ticks on him, but we found them all.

the plus column just kept racking up more and more. so the minuses didn’t bother us quite so much.

the kids woke up every morning and headed outside. they spent the days exploring the stream—mostly in their underwear. that’s how secluded it was. their inner jungle babies awoke, and for four days it was the epitome of every childhood fantasy and children’s book ever written.

the house is set all by itself back in the woods. it was the cabin i had dreamed of finding—not a house in a Lakeside Community (rec center! pool! neighbors on both sides!) of which there are many in the pocono mountain area. this was steps from water—and ages from everyone else.

you know it’s gonna be good when this is your driveway.

no hipster-decor faux deer head  here. the real stuffed and furry deal hanging in our little cabin.

you park on one side of the stream then cross a footbridge to the other bank where the house is. no electronics was the rule—the ipods/pads/tablets/tvs all were banned, and even any cell phone usage was relegated to the far end of the footbridge—the only place you could really pick up much of a signal.

the stream itself was perfection. little “rapids” right under the bridge were like a constant song. the large calm area in front of us ranged from ankle deep to about 2’…just right for exploring with no fear.

they canoed and laughed and skipped rocks and laughed and fished and laughed.

by the end of the day we were hungry and tired—but the good kind of hungry and tired that comes from long days in the sunshine and fresh air. we hit the food store our first day, list in hand, and overpaid for 4 days worth of meals. gotta love little grocery stores in little towns. half pound of butter? that’ll be $5 thankyouverymuch. whatever.

i’m pretty sure she spent the better part of all four days like this—tossing rocks into the water.

we walked out the door and hiked. left or right—didn’t matter. the scenery was gorgeous in either direction. we were having An Adventure. an adventure in forest that almost looked like it was created by walt disney.

we did breakfast in jammies, lunch in panties, dinner in sweats out by the stream. roasting marshmallows, playing game after game of movie charades and 20 questions that had us all laughing hard.

dinner cooked over an open fire, s’mores until we were ready to burst, rock skipping contests until your arms were sore and your belly hurt from laughing.

“FWOG!”

i’m learning how much i’m enjoying older children—the kind that you can have a conversation with, and play games with—beyond candy land and memory.

elliot is not a fan of the group photo.

we learned elliot is a born boater. no fear, she sat still and content on the little canoe. “ma boat, mommy! ma boat!”

we learned guinevere has lots of her mother’s and opa’s genetics—and can spent hoouuuurrrrrs reading.

we learned ava is perfectly content to strip down to nothing and be free in the forest. “panties ON!” became our war cry. you’ve gotta draw the line somewhere, right?

we learned gigi…well, she’s gigi. and there’s no learning gigi because she’s constantly surprising you. did you pee your pants? she asked jeremy as they played, because i heard something squirting.

we learned harrison has a terrible fear of ticks, no matter how much i tried downplaying how very much they FREAK ME OUT. kids pick up on that sort of thing, you know.
 

he is clearly not afraid of dead crawdads

the very first day he was the only one to venture to what later became known as Tick Island. it rightly became a no-man’s-land for the rest of the weekend.

the smaller island in our stream was christened Hava Island, claimed by harrison and ava—replete with leaf and stick flag planted proudly.

Hava Island. not much to explore.

i can add other things here, pedantic thoughts like how the weather was perfect and there were virtually no bugs (the benefits of going in early may). or i can be more poetic and say how i couldn’t get enough of the sound of the twigs and pine needles crackling under my feet as i walked, and how the moss on the rocks was like a springy cushion we couldn’t get enough of poking.

but i’m sure you can fill in the blanks. just know we were sad—so, so sad—to leave. but our weekend in the woods did it’s job, and we returned home reinvigorated.

they showed me how sad they were to be leaving. elliot just wanted to comfort their sad faces.

reinvigorated, and full of memories and bumps and scraped up knees.

a more perfect start to summer i don’t think we’ll ever have.