Horray for the Holidays!

We have seen the sights, enjoyed the feast, lazed around, and mostly been grateful for each other’s company. This has been quite a week with site seeing, Josh’s first break from school, Thanksgiving, and the start of the Christmas season. Grandpa Larry came in Tuesday evening to join the party. The girls were so excited. Kate held a sign that said “Grandpa Larry” in each hand and ran, screaming with delight, down the hallway to greet her Bapa with a huge hug. We have had a fun time going on adventures, playing games, eating yummy food, and staying up way too late. Even menial tasks like cleaning and navigating city traffic are enjoyable with company.

We saw the Rodin Musuem. We went on a walking tour of Center City Philly seeing the Art Museum, Lincoln Square with the library, Franklin Institute, and future site of the LDS temple, LOVE park, City Hall, ending at Reading Terminal Market, a huge indoor market with delicious food, tempting crafts, irresistible treats, and a generally fun atmosphere. We went to the campus of the University of Pennsylvania to see Huntsman Hall and the Lewis Kahn building Doug sent us to see. We have been to Trader Joe’s. Josh and Larry have been on a few shopping trips, some seeking essential items and others not quite so essential items.

Thanksgiving was a grand success. We invited two families from Japan and one from Korea. When I was on my mission in Japan a family invited me to a traditional o-shogatsu (New Year’s) celebration which ended up being one of the cultural highlights of my mission. We decided since we couldn’t join the family celebrations we are used to we should invite some foreign students to show them what Thanksgiving was all about. My Mom and I cooked for two days preparing our feast. Kate prepared a story to teach our guests about the first thanksgiving. Dad gave a turkey carving demonstration and then offered a wonderful Christian prayer. We went around the table and had everyone say something he or she was thankful for. I think it was as close to stepping into the Norman Rockwell picture of Thanksgiving as you could get. We had a delightful time.

Our guests were very gracious. They tried all the food, asked questions, and did their best to communicate. Mom and Dad were equally gracious. Mom learned the names of all our guests and topped it off by learning the Japanese phrase itadakimasu to say as we began eating. Dad played inai, inai, inai ba, the Japanese version of peek-a-boo with the babies and lead a great conversation with our guests.

Friday we went to Longwood Gardens to celebrate the beginning of the Christmas Season. They have a beautiful light display and, once again, the flowers were incredible. It was worth moving to PA just to discover Longwood Gardens. We even went to an ice skating show and saw the fountains dance to Christmas Carols.

In hindsight, our plan for Saturday was perhaps a little too ambitious. We headed out in the morning on an outing to Gettysburg. The previous four nights we had been watching the Ken Burns documentary on the Civil War as an historical refresher course. That was a brilliant idea. On the way back home we thought we would drive through Lancaster County to see the land of the Pennsylvania Dutch. The drive was beautiful.

Just when we started thinking we were the best tour guides Pennsylvania had to offer the powers that be saw it fit bring us back to reality. Kate puked as we finished our tour of Gettysburg. A few too many turns and ups and downs, I suppose. That set us back just enough that we drove into Lancaster County at dusk. We had probably ten minutes to drive around and see the beautiful countryside before everything went completely dark--something about the inhabitants not using electricity that makes night viewing of the area less than optimal. For the grand finale we decided to stop for dinner at the Good and Plenty, a restaurant in Amish Country at which I have been waiting to eat for at least 14 years. We pulled into the parking lot behind three grey hound buses and had to wait to be seated for what seemed like forever when you were herding small girls around a gift shop full of breakable trinkets with signs that read “Do Not Allow Children to Play with Ornaments,” etc. When we were finally seated at the long table with two other parties Jane, who must have awakened on the wrong side of her car seat, had a complete meltdown. She was screaming because she was hungry but then would push away any food you brought close to her mouth. She would beg to be taken out of her high chair and then would struggle to get back in as soon as you picked her up. It was so bad I marched around the entire table, snatched her up, and marched her outside into the frigid night air where I proceeded to force feed her a piece of bread. When her blood sugar finally started to rise and her sobbing subsided we went back inside to try again. This time she went at her food with such enthusiasm that she started gagging. I looked around frantically for something with which to catch the second round of puke for the day. Fortunately, it ended up just being too much food at once so I was able to catch it in my napkin. As I folded up the evidence I glanced at my mom whose shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter, partly in disbelief at the situation and partly at the look that had been on my face. Just as the first bite of dinner entered my mouth Kate announced in an incredibly loud voice, “Mom, I need to go poop.” Josh took pity on me at that point. Sometimes you just can’t win and you seriously wish someone else was the mom. For some strange reason the rest of our table cleared out rather quickly. We just sat there and laughed, glad they didn’t give us name tags.

This week we are thankful for family: our girls, our parents, and all of you. We are grateful for the opportunity to be in Philadelphia. We are grateful for the chance Josh has to be studying at Wharton. We are thankful for the good people of the world. We are grateful for company. We are thankful that our girls won’t be toddlers forever. And we are grateful that sometimes our identity is anonymous.