Please Touch (me) Museum

Yippee! I cannot begin to express how incredibly excited I am that the Please Touch Museum has opened its brand spankin' new doors in Philly. I was first introduced to the Please Touch Museum by my dear friend Jennie Burke and her sister in law (who lived in Chadds Ford at the time). I can't get out of the habit of calling it the "Please Touch Me" museum, since that's what I initially thought it was named! (Thanks, Jennie and Heather.....)

Now, the old PTM was cool, but had rough parking, a long drive, and was a bit worn to say the least. Going there was a very special treat saved for the entire family. Now, however, we feel like we're playing in a palace every time we go. Since it's open at 9 am, we can even jet over during a weekday morning before Nola has to go to afternoon kindergarten. If you're ever in the neighborhood, let's go!

the PTM is in the old Memorial Hall. it's very grand looking.

this is the vestibule. huge and grandiose. the statue of liberty arm is made out of recycled materials and kids can run around in the base.

this is a gigantic restored carousel from a park in philly that was relocated INSIDE the museum. it's really, really impressive when you first see it. rides are only $1!!

declan and daddy riding the traditional horse.

aubry insisted on riding the rabbit. she was very happy about it, too.

nola's favorite part of the museum was the aviation room. kids create their own flying things out of foam shapes, winch them up to the incredibly high ceiling, and watch them flutter down. this was a fun place for all of us, even declan!

Goodbye, Grandma

My dad just called to tell me that my Grandma Pete passed away. I'm so sad, but the lady made it to 94, for goodness sakes!! She was a spitfire and told the funniest off-color stories from her youth (one of the phrases she often used was "ass over teakettle" to describe someone falling).

In recent years, Grandma's memory wasn't what it used to be. I will fondly remember the story she told me while I was nursing Aubry and then Declan. It went down (every single time) like this:

I'm sitting on the couch getting ready to nurse the baby, Grandma's sitting across from me in an armchair. She notices what I'm doing.
Grandma: I didn't know you were nursing!!
Me: Yup, sure am, Grandma. Did you nurse your sons?
Grandma: Oh, yes.
Me: For how long?
Grandma (thinking): I don't remember. But you know what?
Me: What?
Grandma: I gave milk to Henry Ford when I was in the hospital after having one of the boys!
Me: What do you mean? / Really?
Grandma: Oh, yes - I had so much milk that they took it from me and gave it to Henry Ford. And you know what?
Me: What?
Grandma: They didn't give me one red cent for it, either!!!! And he could have afforded it, too!

She always seemed very proud that she was able to help out Henry Ford, but a bit indignant that no money was offered. I got quite a kick out of hearing this same story, the same way, every single time I was in the same room with her while I nursed. I'm sure I will remember this particular conversation with Grandma forever.

I really, really miss her already. It was time, though, and she welcomed it.

Goodbye, Grandma.

this is my absolute favorite photo of grandma.
she's the life of the party and drinking wine through a straw :)

It's official!

Yippee! Finally someone I voted for will be President! Good luck, Obama!

Facebook is bizarre

This is a totally random, picture free post. I'm sitting alone here today waiting for Greg and the girls to get back from Annapolis. Declan's napping and is thankfully feeling better after a looooong 2 days of high fever, snot, sneezing and coughing. So I decide to check out what's going on at Facebook

I look in my inbox and discover I have ANOTHER message from a random person from elementary/middle school in New Jersey. (The first came about a week ago - had a tough time remembering this boy from band/gifted and talented/english class.) This time it's a boy I had band with - he also played clarinet. Now he's living in Hoboken and is a professional opera singer. I actually do remember him because of the clarinet thing and the fact that he had really red hair and freckles.

My question is - how did these people remember me, think to search for me in facebook, and then have the motivation to send me a message? I can barely remember YESTERDAY, let alone people's names from elementary school. I don't really know what to make of it, particulary since I considered myself a pariah during those years.