I've now heard of three incidents where marriages ended on vacations. I thought that was bizarre until we took this vacation. Now don't get me wrong—we've had a great vacation and I still love my spouse, but I can see how a long vacation to a novel place can strain a relationship.

A major problem, obviously, is the fact that two customarily autonomous adults are suddenly stuck in the same rental car going 70 down an unfamiliar freeway. Tom justifiably has so little faith in my sense of direction that he politely declines to allow me to either drive OR navigate, meaning that during portions of this vacation he was going 70 down an unfamiliar freeway while manipulating a map in one hand, google directions in the other, and talking on his cell speaker phone to someone trying to explain bits of the map.

I spent those moments sitting on my hands, biting my tongue, and trying to focus on right mindfulness, right thinking, and the seven fold path. When Zen failed, I shrieked out utterly incorrect advice in command form.

The invention of the GPS, by giving couples a scapegoat for bad navigational choices, has undoubtedly saved quite a few marriages. Too bad our rental car was not so equipped.

Actually, the first day of the rental car was MOSTLY fine. We went to Gettysburg, one of my favorite stops of the trip. Thanks to the Booths, we had a terrific Auto Tour which really brought the battle to life, but we ran out of time to tour the huge new museum and visitor's center. We had just 30 minutes there, and I ran from display to display as I realized that all my questions would be answered if I could just get to them all... Sigh.

I was moved by a display of letters and journal entries from former slaves who fled the south to fight for the Union. At Gettysburg the futility of the Civil War is on display. Monuments to fallen soldiers from each side stand together, and stories of comrades and friends who sorrowfully faced and killed each other there fill the display cases and tour narrative.

Of all the purported causes of the war, none seem to justify that kind of carnage between friends and brothers. Except slavery. We bought a book of speeches, so I'll let Lincoln argue the case for preserving the Union, but until he's convinced me, I'm hoping that in our hearts the real truth is that we fought to abolish slavery.

That night we stayed with Dan and Mandy, Melanie's friends in Hershey. As Tom said, of all the amazing things we saw on our vacation, Mandy was the most amazing. She had her father-in-law, Mel and kids, and all of us spending the night, and she just kept on throwing out fantastic food and wafting cheerful welcome around the house. I discovered that in addition to being the hostess with the mostest, she also has a Masters degree, is an opera singer and excellent pianist, can operate heavy machinery, won a Wii in a cooking contest, and put darling gift bags on each of our beds... Let's just say that Nigel informed me on Saturday morning that he'd decided to make Mandy his new Mom.

We went to Hersheypark Saturday—it was crowded but fun. The wildest ride, however, was driving into New York at 2:30 am. When we lived in Costa Rica, one of the things I loved was seeing the green freeway sign in San Jose that said, “Nicaragua” and pointed to the next exit. It was equally fun to see signs saying “Broadway,” “Manhattan,” “Bronx.” Tom followed Mel (amazing driver, perfect navigation, and all at 3:30 am by the time we got through the tunnel) right to their apartment on Long Island.

Today getting to church involved more tongue biting as we missed a turn, had to pick a freeway, and searched fruitlessly for a way to get back as each exit turned into an Escheresque new freeway entrance. Finally on the third or fourth of these, Tom pulled off a daring U-turn and unravelled the tangle, putting us right back where we started (in spite of three or four utterly misleading directions from me) and ultimately getting us to church half way through sacrament meeting.

It's great to be here with Dave and Mel, and we're looking forward to more NY adventures tomorrow, hopefully diminished somewhat by the fact that we're turning in the rental car in the morning.

Today was clean up day.

We went to the Phillips Collection this morning. Great art. I loved the El Greco. We all loved Renoir's Boating Party. Tim asked for a pencil and a mirror so he could do a self portrait.

We Metroed downtown for free choice afternoon, and the boys returned for the third and last time to the Museum of Natural History. Mom meantime hit the DAR (a little dry unless you have Bryan to curate you through all those nice American period antiques), the Renwick (yaay! Real crafts! But boo! Only four rooms! And Mom's bank account needed in the Museum Shop), and the Archives Shop (a little museum of education materials in its own right where I got rushed before).

We all met up at 4:40 for the "Monsters of the Deep" Imax, where Nigel said, "Dad, I need to move over by Tim because all the Monsters are coming straight at me!"

Last Metro ride home (sniff, sniff) and now it's time to clean up at the HOUSE! But fear not, Mom, the adventure isn't over. Gettysburg tomorrow, Hershey, PA on Sat, and then on to New York to stay with Dave and Mel. If I have internet access, I'll keep blogging. Thanks to all you comment makers! You inspire me to get this written down.

Several guides and experts had told us to skip the Washington Memorial, but our kids were absolutely determined to go up. We had tickets for 9:30 am yesterday, and we'd also planned to bike the monuments. We had three bikes here and were planning to rent three more downtown. Then logistics kicked in.

No bikes on the Metro until 10 am. The bike rental shop opens at 9 am. You have to pick up will call tickets at 9 am for a 9:30 ticket. Don't forget the Metro parking rules. We can split up, but at least one adult has to go with each group. Three people have to ride the bikes to the Metro and take them on. Neither adult cares whether or not they go to the top of the Monument, and Nigel can be coerced into almost anything, but the remaining three children are all passionate about this experience. Oh, and we have no bike locks, so the bikes can't be left unattended at any time.

We worked on that knot for quite some time, and our ultimate solution had every child in tears. Fortunately this vacation seems to be blessed, because although Alex, Nigel, and I arrived at the Washington monument at 9:30 with me desperate to use the bathroom, we still got our tickets and made our group. And just as we were sitting down in line, I heard the ranger telling a grandma and her two grandchildren that they needed to go over to the 10 am line. I ran up to her and asked her if she would trade her 10 am tickets for 9:30 tickets and she went along with it.

I did have to leave the tickets with a nice family at the end of the 10:00 line, but they successfully found Tom (he's about 6 feet tall with a goatee and a red Cougar hat...) and we made it back down seconds before they had to leave the bikes. All this for an attraction we thought would be dumb. Fortunately, it turned out to be beautiful, and the kids were excited to see their vacation laid out at their feet.

The Air and Space Museum (where we went after picking up bikes and extra locks, lest any of you remain distracted by our bike problems) was as advertised. We've gotten into the rhythm of turning the older two loose and splitting the younger two between us. Nigel has been Tom's leech (as you would be if you were normally stuck with Mom every day), so I got to trail Tim around as he discovered the Wright brothers, the Space Lab, Apollo 11, and the forces of flight. We were both amazed to discover all the Wright brothers' experiments. Their motto was PLAN TO FAIL! LEARN FROM IT! THEN SUCCEED! Tim wanted to sketch the flyer on the back of a Washington Monument brochure. I told him we could save time by buying a copy in the Museum Store. He replied, "But this is cheaper. And they might have left something out."

We decided to skip the Spy Museum in favor of more time at Air and Space, so we let the kids go on the flight simulators. Tim was floating afterward. "Sorry if I seem weird," he said. "I'm just a bit giddy from flying!"

Biking Washington was one of our very best decisions. Yesterday was cool with a fresh breeze, and it was heavenly to float around the tidal basin, to Jefferson, to FDR (kids named it best monument), to Arlington. It was like escaping a cloud of gnats, leaving the crowds behind. People clump up in these things, and I guess we tend to clump with them. If you can get into your own rhythm, the monuments can be quiet--almost deserted.

Well, except occasionally when we had to pass through the crowds of pedestrians. Then I was riding on Tim's back tire, spattering him with word globs, 90% of which I later discovered he never heard. "Tim, TIMTIMTIM!! Nononononononono!! Right! Keep right! Other right! Go over! Watch that man--TIMTIMTIMTIM!! Stop! Walk your bike for a sec! Okay, honey, we've got to keep a careful eye on the pedestrians." ("Aren't we pedestrians? We're pedaling!")

At one point, a brusque man yelled "On your left!" and sped past me. "Tim!" I yelled! Keep over!" He immediately started to drift left. "No! Tim! No!" I yelled. "Nononononono! Keep over! Tim! Turn!" He later said that "Turn!" was the only instruction he heard. Which was made obvious when he DID turn right into the guy's path. The guy yelled at him thoroughly, which he fortunately mostly disregarded, although I was tempted to yell at the guy, "Can you see he's a nine year old kid?!"

I will do a flash forward to 10 pm, us pedaling our weary bodies into the gravel drive at 8005, and just let you know that no sightseers, locals, or Metro riders were harmed in the making of this vacation. It was close at moments, though.

Arlington, 6:45. Last changing of the guard, 7:00 pm, and this place runs on military time. We threw our bikes in a pile, wrapped the krypton cable around them, and moved off crisply up the hill. I rode the tour bus last time I went to Arlington and I STILL remembered that it was a ways. We were moving fast, and in fact our sweaty, drooping bodies were in sight of the tomb when the clock bonged. I hope I didn't ruin anybody's experience with my last minute stage whispers--"Tim! (pant) Run! (pant pant) Runrunrunrun! (pant) C'mon Tim! You can do it!"

The changing of the guard is a precision operation, as most of you know but I had forgotten, so all that running at the end was extreme. We made it fine. And the kids definitely got a feeling of solemnity and reverence, as well as the sense of the human toll of war, from Arlington. Our exit was solemn, reverent, and much slower.

And, though we didn't get to dinner (our first dinner out, which I view as a digestive as well as financial blessing) until 8 pm, violating all rules of touring with five boys, somehow we got away with it, though there was nothing to take home in the doggy bags.

Our trip home with six bikes on the Metro was hair raising. We learned a lot. Pick the wide ticket lanes. Move to then end of the train. Dismantle trail-a-bikes before attempting the escalator. Hang on to all screws, nuts, and essential parts before re-assembling said trail-a-bike. Metro platforms are slick and you really don't want to go down onto the tracks looking for a nut. If you choose to box in a whole bunch of tired Metro passengers, make sure it's in DC, where the locals have an astonishing tolerance of tourists.

I also choose not to remember pedaling home in the pitch black, through a local park and past some slightly questionable local hang-outs. All's well that ends well, right? Last DC day today!

Sorry--I only have access to one song! Quick--send me a .wav file! Narrative follows.

Smug

Standing in the line to see the Declaration, Constitution, and Bill of Rights yesterday about 11:30 am, I noticed a family behind us doing the dash and check. They had out their map and the father said, "Okay, okay. Run up and take a look, and then we've got to get over to Lincoln."

Tim stood by my side holding a color copy of a military message sent by carrier pigeon in WWI. It said, "To C.O.306th Infantry From: 1st BN 308th Infantry WE ARE ALONG THE ROAD PARALELL 276.4. OUR AR ILLERY IS DROPPING A BARRAGE DIRECTLY ON US. FOR HEAVENS SAKE STOP IT. WHITTLESAY MAJ 308th."

We had spent the morning digging through the Hollinger boxes in the ReSource Room, exploring patents, photographs, and shreds of history, and finding such treasures as a letter from a 12 year old Fidel Castro to FDR (expressing his love of the USA and asking for a ten dollar bill), Lady Bird Johnson's typed diary entry of a certain day in Dallas (changes annotated in pencil in the new First Lady's own hand), and full sized copies of the charters of freedom (including the hand print on the Declaration). We'd paused at the Magna Carta to admire the king's seal.

After lunch, we were to spend another couple of hours in the Archive's public vaults, and then we were off to Lincoln's Cottage to spend a quiet afternoon in the shadow of the great man himself, not on the crowded steps of his memorial, but in the peaceful cottage he loved best, where he spent a quarter of his presidency! (Side note: I really do love this tour, and you should make time to come here if you find yourself in DC. Its restoration has just been completed, and the tour was wonderful--it brought Lincoln the man to life in all his brilliance, determination, humanity, humor, and pain.)

I was so pleased with myself as we left the visitor's center. How brilliant my strategy was, how masterful my planning! Unlike the other visitors to Washington DC with their long faced, moaning children, I had left the beaten path! My children were reveling in history! Inspired by fabulous art! Fired up by treasures of the past! Appetites whetted by exposure to source materials, they now hungered for the feast of information! This trip, perfectly designed and brilliantly executed, would fuel their future studies and open their tender minds!

Then Alex grabbed my hand and, turning his anguished face to mine, proclaimed that if I forced him to go to one more museum, he would stick his head under the wheel of the car.

Well, we can't all be museum lovers. Or smug mothers who plan the perfect vacation. I think we might go biking today.

Saturday was the National Gallery. More than one person told me they thought it was a terrible idea. Both our guidebooks listed it in the bottom 10 for kids. Even Mom (who dragged me through many an art gallery back in the day) suggested that I not get my hopes up. After the LOC, I despaired, but I felt that we at least needed to spend 45 minutes or so looking around so they boys would know what the National Gallery is.

Tom is a big art lover too, so he was quite supportive, and we got the boys audio tours. Turns out there's the Director's tour for adults and a kid's tour for Nigels.

They loved it. I went with Tim, who had to stop and look at every piece of classical sculpture (there is more of that than you might imagine). He identified subjects by their greek and roman names, commented on their personalities, examined little artifacts included in the sculptures and speculated on why they might have been included, and looked for veins and faults in the marble. His favorite things in the museum were the Leonardo (Mom, look at the amazing detail of the hair and trees) and Bellini (and Titian)'s Feast of the Gods. He also loved Titian's Diana, which he prefers to call Artemis, because he prefers the Greek to the Roman.

On the video you'll see him explaining Feast of the Gods at length (and yes, let me give you an ARTISTIC NUDITY PRESENT warning).

Nigel was all business about his tour. He found the paintings with the tour numbers, punched up the commentary, and enjoyed. Alex and Tom set out after lunch for the East Wing, where Alex loved the Alexander Calder mobile and someone else I forgot who works with organic materials. Zach saw the West Building through from beginning to end. Over dinner he had lots of observations about the course of art from the middle ages through impressionism. Zach, Tim and I would have liked to have made it over to the East Building, but unfortunately they kicked us out of the West Building at 5 pm with things yet to see.

Today Tim told me he plans to be an artist and at bedtime I found him practicing ways that he wanted to pose his models (thankfully he was fully clothed).

After closing the National Gallery, we met up with the Bowmans and crammed into a taxi (all 9 of us!) to visit the Lincoln Memorial as a conclusion to the day. I note that the kids are much more conversant with the history of Martin Luther King--and much more excited to see the "I have a dream" plaque--than they are with the history of Lincoln and the Civil War. A historical hole that I plan to fill starting tomorrow with our visit to the Lincoln cottage.

Today we had a quiet Sunday, visiting the Rockville ward and discovering Jeff and Marisol Franks behind us when a speaker shared a story about how they had come to her rescue when she was stranded after a car accident an hour outside DC. Melinda Baird is also brand new in the ward and played a musical number. Mormon world is a small one indeed.

Well, this wasn't fascinating, but I'm exhausted, so here's the video, and more tomorrow...

Friday, August 15th

Our last two mornings have started out bright and early at the "Kiss and Ride" lot at Takoma Metro station. "Kiss and Ride," and yes, I did have to research this, apparently refers to parents who park and walk their kids to the platform, give them a kiss, then come back to the car. We in the west call it short term parking. And we don't really get the concept, so Metro has gone to some lengths to explain it to us.


Looks pretty straightforward, right? So the first day we left the car at 8:30, returned at 3:30 and all was well. The second day, Gillian and Jonathan called our attention to the meters sitting in front of the parking spaces. Oh, those meters are artifacts of a previous metro parking system, we kindly told them. Not so, they maintained, pointing to the instructions actually written on the meter. We read those instructions. They seemed to involve a lot of quarters. More quarters than the average person could carry stuffed into an internal frame pack with waist belt and chest strap. More quarters, actually, than the average person should be allowed to own at one time unless they are a government certified quarter collector. More quarters, certainly, than any metro employee is willing to hand over in change. We pooled all our quarters, including the ones obtained from the change machine in the metro station, and fed them all into the meter for Gillian and Jonathan's car because a) Tom always likes his chances, and b) Julia looks on a ticket as the cost of being a tourist. After putting all but two of the quarters in, we discovered that the meter we were feeding with 90% certainty belonged to a car already parked on the opposite slant and not to Gillian and Jonathan's car.

I'd leave you in suspense as to whether or not we got a ticket from this maneuver, but then how can you relax and appreciate the Capitol, the White House, and the Library of Congress? Never mind that this would give you an authentic feeling for Gillian and Jonathan's day. I'll just skip all the touring and tell you that the white thing flapping on the windshield that nearly caused Jonathan heart failure was a brochure for the flea market. I think we were helped by a trash fire on the red line that prompted Metro (according to the Washington Post) to "put all its skilled workers out to pick up garbage." Phew.

Well, the Capitol Building, the White House, and the Library of Congress were as gorgeous and cool as I remembered, but these are not really "family attractions." As Tim said, "Mom, I think I'd better come back someday when I can appreciate all this." We caught up illegally with the tail end of an illegal White House tour--probably because they weren't supposed to be doing it, they couldn't kick us out. That was fascinating and gave our kids a great appreciation of just one thing: the presidential seal in the entrance hall.

The Capitol Building is just as you remembered it. The Library of Congress, on the other hand, has decided to go hip. A movie, made in conjunction with the History Channel, makes library research look positively dynamic. The kids were raring to go after viewing it. Our docent, unfortunately, was not as dynamic. In fact, he was soft spoken, pedantic, and without those stories that make kids sit up and pay attention. Only some of us survived the tour.


Some of the rest of us were reduced to photographing anything of interest.


By the time we were released from the tour and got to the good stuff (first draft of the Declaration of Independence!! Thomas Jefferson's source material for some of his best ideas in the Declaration! Drafts of the Constitution! Margin comments in his own hand! Thomas Jefferson's actual original library and the nucleus of the Library of Congress!), everyone was comatose and we finally had to utter our DC refrain ("Let's come back...") and return to save the cars.

I just read an article on the neurolearning blog I love that discusses how childrens declarative memory--memory for facts and events--is weak. It strengthens over time, but at the age of Nigel, Tim, and to some extent Alex, episodic and personal memory is much stronger. This seems to affect the way they like to discover and learn new material. I'm discovering that they want to approach and understand all the things that are here for them, but probably not through docent led tours. I find it fascinating to see how if we just leave them on their own to look and discover, they move through the boredom and after an hour or so, they start getting interested. That means a radical pace adjustment for Tom and me, though. It's like Christmas, I guess--we adults are always wanting to get moving when our children are finally starting to get interested.

Phew! Enough for today! But remind me on a slow day to tell you about the guard in the Peacock room.

No pictures from yesterday because it was our "big day"--Capitol Building, White House, Library of Congress. And possibly no pictures from TODAY either, because Mom made a mistake with the date! I read and reread that paper, enough times to have memorized our Congressman's office number, but still missed that it said "August 15th" at the top of the paper. *Sigh.* And thanks to a lovely man named Peter from Burlington, Washington who spent 30 minutes waiting outside Congressman Rick Larson's door with us--mildly cursing his aide and threatening to vote for his opponent of course--we had trekked a mile to the White House under some time pressure (well, we have forty five minutes! Let's get out and see the Mall!") and waited in line at the entrance gate before we realized my mistake.

Nigel melted about half way down the Mall and Zach and Alex were on the verge. Two pieces of white toast and water out of the water bottles (we were in a hurry!!) ran out about five seconds after we got the bad news. We had no food or drink, of course, because you can't take so much as a pen into the White House with you, let alone emergency rations, so we ambled down the hill, blew $10 on gatorade and pretzels, and wandered aimlessly onto a patch of shady grass to eat.

Let me pause here to say that there is a fate that has been lurking around the corners of my future most of my life. Could be genetic predisposition, or an unlooked-for inheritance from Grandpa. Usually feels like being mugged by the spirit of Scouting--in the form of four boys, Donna Hawks, my priesthood leaders. But in this case, it was benevolent. As we strolled across the grass, the back of a humble monument loomed ahead--two artistically wrapped but still mostly unclothed idealistic figures being lead by a small, determined looking boy in a scout uniform. It was the monument to the Boy Scouts, erected by Congress when they cared about the BSA, and clearly now neglected by them and 99% of all visitors to Washington DC. But (and I suppose this is the purpose of monuments) it still stands there in its shady grove waiting for people like us to trip on it.

And waiting in a tree just behind it, 15 feet up and dangling like fate on a branch, was a bright pink Aerobie. It cost about half our gatorade bottles (Mom: Could we please drink those before we throw them into the tree? Dad and boys: Nice idea, Mom, but we need the weight.) but of course we did eventually get it down, and it saved our day. After about 20 minutes of wild Aerobie playing, the entire family was restored to cheerfulness and we went off to gaze at Megaladon teeth and the Hope diamond at the Museum of Natural History (which was the closest).

Yes, we spent $50 on food at the Prehistoric Cafe, and several hours in the museum did reduce several of the kids to zombie state, but Tim made it all worth it.

Mom: What was your favorite thing about today, Tim.

Tim: (*sigh*, ecstatic gaze) Oh....everything. This was the best day of my life. I imagined what it would be like, but I never dreamed that it would be this great.

I will never forget the sight of him lying in the middle of Whistler's "Peacock Room," gazing at the ceiling and never wanting to leave.

So I've spent too long on this now, and that's going to make it another rush out the door! Fortunately I stocked up at Costco yesterday, and Jonathan and Gillian are here--we're planning to make them pay for it by carrying our lunch!--so if nothing else, we should be well fed today!

We're Off!

Following a cleaning frenzy, we collapsed into the car and drove to meet the Ruthers, our exchange family. Our kids have been wondering for weeks if they were going to "rob us blind," and if they are, it's a beautiful scam. They're very intelligent, gracious, fascinating people. When they told us on the phone that their wireless is unprotected, I realized that we're a pretty good match. Paul put it best when he said that trusting people works "about 98% of the time, and the other 2% won't break your spirit." That's how I like to live too. We're really lucky to have met them online and we're excited to be on our way in about half an hour!

Also, please note. Poor Cecily is everybody's travel agent. She claims that anyone can do it, but I can never do it like she can. This is our "cheap" airport motel. Let's just call it the "South Seas at SeaTac." The kids think this IS the vacation.

This is a test video. We're getting ready to leave Tues. for DC and I'm planning to keep a trip blog while we're there. In the meantime, Check out the boys talking about their latest gadget: Tiki Corn Skewers. Fortunately, Tom was able to purchase 48 for only $2. If you're sold, let me know so I can pass a few along.