Oops, I Did It Again

We're members of a terrific twins and multiples list serve called the BBPOTC (do not ask me exactly what it stands for - something about Brooklyn Parents of Twins), which has been a fantastic resource for whatever crazy twin-related question a person could possibly have. Every year they do a get together at a local carousel so people can actually meet in person. Last year we decided to go, even though it was in the middle of the babies' naptime and only Rosemary was old enough to enjoy the rides. We hoofed it all the way down to Dumbo (near the base of the Brooklyn Bridge, 1 3/4 miles from here) only to find that there was no twins party there. Turns out the party was at the carousel in Prospect Park. The OTHER carousel, too far away to get to in time.

Oh well. It's a nice park anyhow.

This year, when I saw the first mention of the carousel party, I marked our calendar. I noted the venue. I was ready. Maybe too ready. Last week there was a reminder that went out about the event, then a request for RSVPs so they could get the bagel count right. That meant go-time, as far as I was concerned. We packed everyone into our sardinemobile (yes, 3 carseats do fit in the back of a Lexus, as long as two are rear-facing), drove to Prospect Park, and headed to the carousel. This is what we saw: 

See the carousel building in the background? It doesn't look open, does it. I got the date wrong. Same time, one week later. 

Oh well. The carousel is right next to the Prospect Park Zoo, which made for a great outing and a gorgeous, quiet morning at the zoo. And let's face it, we never, ever would have gotten everyone out the door at nine in the morning just to go to the zoo. We got to see a red panda, a porcupine, a peacock, a baby baboon, owls. We even bumped into some old friends who we never would have otherwise seen. Not so bad.

And then later that day we went to a playground near us and there were three other sets of twins there. It's Brooklyn! Every day, every where is Twins Day. We don't need no carousel. Granted, we will try again tomorrow.

A hat worthy of Dolly Levi, yes?

Nature walk, Sylvia leading the way:

Art project, and of course Maggie is in the thick of it, very busy. (As Sylvia was running around, trying to leave the room.) 

Old Frenchified Fair

If memory serves, I've only had one "We Love Governors Island" post so far this summer, which means I still have one or two more coming (based on annual averages). We headed there a few weeks back expecting to find a kids' field sports event that I'd seen listed. Jason went early with Rosemary after her swim class, and littler girls and I caught the next ferry out after their nap. When we got off the ferry, we roamed around a bit as I texted Jason trying to figure out where they were, and all of the sudden I heard this rhythmic squeaking, rattling sound punctuated by an occasional HONK HONK HONK. So we rounded ducked in between two houses on Officer's Row and saw this amazing site: 

Maybe it's hard to tell from the tiny video, but it's antique old French carnival ride called a Velocipede, a great big circular bike where all riders have operational pedals. It turned out to be part of the Fete Paradiso, an antique traveling french fair that was gorgeous and magical, and a little rickety too -- which actually made it seem more amazing that it was there in the first place, since everything looked like it should be in a museum rather than in use.

The Velocipede goes as fast as its riders collectively make it go. The honk honk is made by a barker honking a big bike horn to encourage speedy peddling. After going forward for awhile, the barker gets people to slow down, stop, and then start going backwards. Sylvia almost leapt out of the stroller trying to get to it. Jason said he wanted to take her on but this mean mama said no.

Rosemary, however, decided she didn't want to go on it, so we went looking for other options. This boat swing fit the bill -- another "ride" that operates on people power.

Rosemary also went on a carousel ride, which was also antique and amazing, but I took no pictures because Jason went on the ride too so I had both Littles to watch. In general, there was a fair amount of baby tracking going on, since neither baby is particularly interested in staying by our side. I don't know if they assume we will follow them or if they don't care, but there's no staying still when they are out of the stroller.

No one went on this one, but I was in love with it from afar:

The look on Maggie's face is so quintessentially Maggie. I don't recall why she was making it then -- she often gets this expression when she sees someone drop something she thinks needs picking up. Very concerned citizen.

Totally charming pugilistic ball toss:

Video of the ball toss, which I wasn't going to post until I watched it again and saw the interaction between Sylvia (in Jason's arms) and the lady on the left. I've never seen anyone less charmed by her.

After a little bit, we returned to the Velocipede with the idea that Jason would ride it (without Sylvia, much to her dismay). The line was longish and then it began to thunderstorm. So instead we made for the ferry, hoping to return another time. Stay tuned for Part Deux?

Urban Meadow

We haven't spent much time in the Urban Meadow this summer, between last year's bee sting (Rosemary, in a great field of clover) and this year's free-range chickens meeting up with our free-range twins. The chickens are fun, and the babies love to check them out from the playground, which is right next door. But they (Sylvia in particular) don't have the sense yet to give animals their space, and even when the chickens are in their pen (which is most of the time, in reality), the girls would definitely be poking their little finger in there. The chickens, by the way, were located from someone's backyard in Red Hook after Sandy. It seems wrong after writing so much about them not to have a picture - alas, we photographed only girls.

Summer Days and the Blueberry Festival

This summer has flown by, broken down into weeklong chunks depending on where Rosemary is doing summer camp. We started on the first week of July in the Berkshires, where she did a sweet farm camp at the Berkshire Botanical Garden (home to a very friendly goat who does not mind a little extra attention). After recovering from a very first day - torrential rain, flash flood warnings, and more rain - the camp ended up being a big hit. Actually, when we went to pick up Rosemary on the first day, she turned and saw us, and fixed me with a terrific scowl. But at the end of the week, she said, "Mom, remember that look I gave you the first day? I'm sorry about that." That was a first. It was fun watching our city girl strut up to the chicken coop and dig around for an egg (although she could also do that right around here, since there are now chickens living in the Urban Meadow, just adjacent to our favorite playground).

We did a few weeks of camp in Brooklyn and then she returned to the Berkshires for a few weeks with her cousins at another camp up there. This one is a real camp - in there are older kids there for sleepaway camp - but R and her two cousins were there as day campers. The beginning started off with a few jitters -- at the first drop off she announced that it was also known as "Camp Stupendously Bad" (I'm pretty sure she started off calling it Camp Stupid but then self-edited as she went.) She did have a good time, and especially enjoyed the time with just the cousins, Aunt Sam, Grandmama and Baba, when the rest of us returned to the city. This year's phone calls from the Berkshires were highly entertaining, including one where she sang me the events of her day start to finish (especially notable since she is usually very stingy when it comes to giving details of her day). I do wish I'd recorded that. 

         

Jason, the twins, and I were up for a few days. The little girls really, really loved the time with their big cousins.

David came by the first day and captured this Utterly Sylvia expression. (Or maybe Sam got this shot? I lost track.) She is turning out to become quite the mischief maker. More on that in another post. 

The view from the sandbox:

Jump!

We went to the annual Blueberry Festival, a hallowed tradition that begins with the ceremonial eating of a massive blueberry pancake breakfast and the drinking of many small plastic cups of coffee brought around by nice but harried volunteer ladies who are probably not accustomed to being asked to pour other people's coffee. Actually, it begins by being shepherded out the door in the middle of a rain storm to beat the pancake-getting lines, and while this seems overzealous at the outset, those lines do get very long. Austerlitz, New York, is THE place to be on just this one day of the year. Other highlights: all-family basket weaving...  

...and a performance of slightly depressing folk songs played in an upbeat manner (see below). Maggie loved listening to the trio of songs about people getting hung. Sylvia was not too sure.

...and carding wool.

A special bonus: Maggie dances...with pole as partner. 

Sylvie Sings

My friend Laura used to work with someone who once told her,  "You know, I pretty much always have the theme from Sanford and Son stuck in my head." And Laura, telling this to me, said, "And once she said it, I realized she was right! She was always humming it under her breath all the time." My friend Allyson was taunted/haunted by the Oprah theme song for a whole year. For Sylvia, our little bird, who sings before she can talk, it seems like it's a little ditty from the song Home. It was the Olympic theme song last year, and it got a ton of play on the radio too. It was just in the air everywhere for awhile. Somewhere along the line it must have gotten lodged in that little head of hers. I often hear her singing it to herself, like this:

So the other day I played the video for her, just to see what would happen. She didn't really pay attention, but sort of hummed along as she looked at a book. The part where you can tell best that she's singing along is right at the end of the video, though it's hard to hear the song in the background.  

Babes in the Berkshires

The ladies barely paused to indulge me in this photo shoot. But I did get a couple of smiles. The thing that looks like a squashed Aztec pyramid is a sandbox.

There Will Be Videos

A technical aside: One of the things I've concluded from experience (but not research) is that iPhone, iPhoto and Blogger are not a good trio when it comes to videos. It seems that once you've imported videos into iPhoto, you can't upload them to blogger? Or at least it doesn't work for me. There's probably something obvious that I'm missing, and if I took I dug around a bit there would be some easy answer out there. But for now it works best for me to upload them directly from my phone or else they are like frozen Han Solo -- they exist but I can't do anything with them. (Correct me if I'm wrong!)

Anyhow, this is a little video of Sylvia sliding--and running! That kid is fast. She's a darter.