Musical Interlude

Mama and I were cleaning out CDs yesterday and came across both Raffi and Laurie Berkner.  Suddenly, the kids were just three-years old, dancing to "Baby Beluga" and laughing to "Willaby Wallaby Woo," stomping to "We are the Dinosaurs" (and curling up in the exact same positions--Bud on his tummy, butt up; Sis on her side sniffing Shirt) and running around to "I'm Gonna Catch You."  So this evening, we played some of the music for them.  They didn't remember the names of either artist but immediately recalled several of the songs.  Soon, they were running around, giggling, falling on the floor, stomping . . . and there I was all weepy and laughing, too.

Tomorrow, Imagination Movers!

Do You Know the Muffin Mom?

The kiddos waited all week to watch the "Muffin Man" episode on "Imagination Movers." They loved Baker Ben and his forgotten secret ingredient. Today, they woke us up early and insisted on watching it again. And I grew hungrier by the minute as the Movers and guest Duff Goldman, a la "Ace of Cakes," baked pan after pan of muffins.

And so we decided to make some ourselves: strawberry for Bud, like in the show (which doesn't feature a recipe on its website), and chocolate chip for Sis. I don't really have a standard muffin base so looked to Martha Stewart's Baking Handout, where I found this gem, originally the blueberry muffin recipe (because I didn't have the sour cream used to make the basic mix)--"who is Martha?" Sis asked. She'll learn. It made excellent muffins, with a nice crumb and flavor. Sis is already imagining all the different kinds of muffins we can make!

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Sis and Bud's Muffins, a la Martha Stewart

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature, plus more for pan

2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for pan

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 cups fresh blueberries (we used 1 cup frozen strawberries, defrosted, for Bud; 1/2 cup chocolate chips for Sis)

1 cups sugar

2 large eggs

2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

1/2 cup milk

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Generously butter a standard 12-cup muffin pan and dust with flour, tapping out excess; set aside. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, and salt. Working over the bowl, toss blueberries in a fine sieve with about 1 1/2 teaspoons flour mixture to lightly coat; set aside the flour mixture and the blueberries. (Or skip this part.)

In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, or using a handheld mixer, beat butter and 1 cup sugar on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add eggs, one at a time, beating until combined. Mix in vanilla.

With the mixer on low speed, add reserved flour mixture, beating until just combined. Add milk, beating until just combined. Do not overmix. Using a rubber spatula, fold in the blueberries.

Or, for our muffins, divide batter into two separate bowls. In one, stir in the strawberries; in the other, the chocolate. Continue . . .

Divide batter evenly among the prepared muffin cups. Bake, rotating pan halfway though, until muffins are golden brown and a cake tester inserted in the center of one muffin comes out clean, about 30 minutes. Transfer pan to a wire rack to cool 10 minutes. Turn muffins on their sides in their cups, and let cool. Serve warm or at room temperature.

adapted from blueberry muffins in Martha Stewart's Baking Handbook (except, online, she adds 1/4 cup sugar and 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg for crunchy topping; commentors suggest adding a bit of lemon zest to batter)

Reading Magic: Fairytales

On Saturday, before we went to the Imagination Movers concert, we had time to watch the new Mover episode on tv (which distracted them from their increasing and uncontrollable excitement long enough for Mama and I to get dressed). And it was basically the Movers-meet-Cinderella.

Except, the kiddos had no idea who Cinderella was.

Conflictingly proud that we had so far avoided one arm of the Mouse's media empire but also abashed that my children did not possess the cultural literacy of fairytales, I waited for the show to be over and then whipped out my treasued copy of The Tasha Tudor Book of Fairy Tales, my favorite illustrated fairy tale collection from childhood (which I keep right above Tasha Tudor's A Time to Keep, probably my favorite childhood picture book).

Oddly for a book by an illustrator, there aren't that many pictures (and those that exist are very 18th-century French Sun King), but we sat and read through Perrault's version of Cinderella, which doesn't have friendly mice and has two balls instead of one (but gently leaves out the evil stepsisters' self-mutilation in the pursuit of fitting into the glass slipper. I think that might be the Grimm version). Sis listened enrapt, clearly mentally comparing it to the Movers' version. Bud was hung up on some of the details, such as how her clothes became rags. But they enjoyed it. And want to read about Rapunzel, who is pictured on the front cover, next.

Will we be reading the Grimm version anytime soon? Probably not. (Much less listening to the confusing Into the Woods.) Nor will we be watching the Mouse's version either. We'll walk the middle road for now, learning the stories in the safe environs of Tasha Tudor (and carefully navigating the often misogynistic, sometimes violent tales. More on that some other time, though, briefly I think fairytales have a lot to teach, beyond being cultural touchstones. I'll need to re-read the Brain, Child article on Grimm again first).

Especially because the Movers left the door open for even more fairytale visitors!

Imaginary Movers

As you know, we have Imagination Movers on the brain after the concert on Saturday.

And tonight during dinner conversation, Sis wanted to do a round-robin story. About the Movers.

So, I started the story about how the Movers needed to get to their concert but a big snowfall (okay, so Sis couldn't know it rarely snows in New Orleans) had trapped them in the warehouse. Go!

We go in a circle and Bud was next. Immediately, he said that Dave invented a machine to tunnel out of the snow. Which is a great guess in light of the tv show structure (though, he solved the "idea emergency" too soon).

And Sis went nuts. Mover Dave was her character! Bud couldn't talk about Dave. He had to talk about Smitty. And she would decide how Dave solved the problem. And only Dave got to have the answer.

Oh, heaven have mercy.

Bud acquiesced quickly (and wisely) and said something about Smitty first calling neighbor Nina for help, then asking Warehouse Mouse to help, and finally checking his journal for snow-removal ideas. Allowed to talk for Scott, I added that he looked through the snow with his wobble goggles only to discover that the whole neighborhood was snowed in. I added that Rich called the highway department but they didn't have Katy the snow plow (yes, I was mixing stories and media). And finally Sis solved the emergency by saying that Dave cleared the snow with an invention that punctured the snow with holes until the holes were big enough to climb through. And they all went to the concert happily ever after.

Whew. Emergency solved; crisis averted.

Concert Cough

Sis has what we're calling "concert cough." She just had too much fun yelling and screaming and singing at the Imagination Movers concert on Saturday. So much so that she woke up Saturday night coughing and hoarse. She's not sick, as far as we can tell (and we're getting very good at telling); it's just strain. It's actually kinda cute, especially because she is still insisting on singing all her favorite concert songs!

A Life-Affirming Day

Despite rainy weather all day, which I tend to like this time of year actually, it was a sunshine-in-the-soul kind of day. Art, music, family, food, fun. And a funeral. The kind of smile-through-tears-day that makes you hug your kids tighter at bedtime and give your sweetie an extra kiss goodnight.

• Lunch at Claire's Corner Copia: We had lunch in New Haven at the local vegetarian hangout that is kid-friendly. Bud loved the blueberry pancakes; Sis preferred the homemade rolls. They both liked talking about the coffee-cup-headed figures in paintings on the wall (is he walking on a cloud? on snow on a mountain? is that brick wall supposed to be the restaurant?) and playing follow-the-maze in the brickwork next to our table. Mama and I liked the eggplant cum salsa and, as always, the Russian Fruit Tea.
• Yale Center for British Art: With half an hour to go before the doors opened at our concert, we headed to the museum. We'd spied the brochure with the golden armor on the cover and wanted to see the knight. And we all enjoyed the exhibition on Horace Walpole's Strawberry Hill estate. The kids played "I Spy," looking for the real objects depicted in the original drawings of the house. Sis questioned why his couch--a settee, she discovered--didn't look like our couch. They marveled at the portrait miniatures as we compared them to the snapshots in my wallet. They also wanted to talk about the naked people in the Education of Jupiter by the workshop of Poussin. I did my best to explain that there are always naked people in pictures of Greece and Rome, even if those people actually wore clothes, because both the ancients and the artists who painted pictures of them loved the human body. "But, Mom, they're showing their privates!" Let's just move on. The suit of armor was the showstopper, especially because there were gauntlets, a lance, and a head piece for a horse. But Mama's and my favorite? The real red cardinal hat of the famous Cardinal Woolsey. Wow.
• "LIVE FROM THE IDEA WAREHOUSE, IT'S THE IMAGINATION MOVERS!!!!!!" This was the whole raison d'etre for our foray out into the messy weather today. We'd bought the tickets months ago and luckily their interest in the Movers hadn't waned at all. They were so excited. Upon entering the theater, they immediately got in line for their promised souvenirs--a "Dave hat" for Sis and a "Smitty hat" for Bud--which they wore proudly the rest of the day. As we killed time in the lobby before the auditorium opened, they admired the Broadway show posters, curious about Cats. They liked the dancers in the eyes. Then it was time to find our (good) seats, where they sat stockstill for the next 30 minutes watching various Disney promos that we always fast-forward at home. Then, with the lights darkened, the show started. And what a show it was! Constant energy, engaging narrative, humorous 80s references for the adults (like Ralph Macchio and Van Halen and retiring baseball jersey 23), upbeat music, continuous movement; it's the best kids' concert we've seen and, frankly, one of the better concerts I've seen, period. Our kids loved it. Sis did all the calls and responses, all the hand motions, standing and dancing for at least the whole second half, absorbing everything she saw (Dave took his hat off! Dave jumped the highest! Guess who is her Mover?). Bud even danced in the aisles, where he actually got to high-five Rich!!! Sis was very disappointed she didn't get a high-five, not having gotten to the aisle fast enough as he went by, and then later afterwards, she and Mama just missed making it to the stage to see him and get VIP passes; they ran out just as they got there. She cried some tears on the way to the car later, but then she saw her bunny Amy and gave her the "Dave hat" and told her about the concert, which helped her remember all the fun she'd had. It's too bad really because I think it meant more to her than to him.
• Ice cream at Ashley's: it was a good idea, in theory, but a disappointment. We drove out to the shop with the parking and found it dirty and indifferently staffed. Luckily, the kids don't notice such things and really enjoyed the rather good ice cream--strawberry and chocolate of course. I liked the oreo-coffee flavor, while Mama struggled through a poorly made coffee float. I might even write to complain, considering they're so proud of being one of Connecticut's best. We won't be going back, though maybe the shop in New Haven proper would be better. We did chuckle over the sculpture in the plaza parking lot, which the kids thought looked like empty ice cream cones trying to scoop up ice cream!
• Movers in Concert at Home: The concert moved to our home venue. The kids set up all their critters as the audience and donned their hats and instruments. They even announced themselves just like at the theater. And Sis remembered most of the set list, which they recreated, jumping the whole time and high-fiving their critters. It's absolutely why we do these kinds of things.
• Wake: I listened to the Movers all the way to the funeral home, trying to preserve the good cheer of the day, to hold onto youth and happiness and love and innocence in the wake of suicide, as if somehow creating days like today would buffer my children against such darkness in their lives. My friend cried on my shoulder and then we went back to her house to prepare for the post-wake reception. There, some of the kids were upset and I heard a poignant explanation of loss and grief to a child. She took a little boy in her arms and told him through his tears and hers that only the body goes away, that everything you love stays with you in your heart and that won't ever leave. And even though you're sad now, you won't always be sad when you remember him.

Which is exactly why I cherish days like today, and even, and perhaps even more so, mundane ones. It just doesn't get much better than this. And I want to know that without needing a funeral to remind me.