A day in the life..

So we just sang our last song to Juliet and she's quieted down and is falling asleep.

I wanted to capture everything we did today - to give a sense of what these summer Saturdays have been like. I'm amazed, stunned, lucky beyond words to have such a wonderful life.

Karen had work to do today, so it was a true Daddy-Juliet day. We have a song / chant we like to sing on the weekends: "No go to work / Stay home with Ju-li-et." It was one of those days. It was also 104 degrees. The hottest day I can remember here in D.C. and coming after a string of 8 or 9 days well into the upper 90's. Toasty.

So, Juliet slept in this morning until 8:30a. Truly amazing and luxurious. She wakes up and I scoop her downstairs for some cereal and strawberries. We get the newspaper and she has me get her the sports section and turn to some pictures of some "baseball-men." She has to have it folded and set under her cereal bowl, just like I do with the front page.

Then we throw on some clothes (a pink dress for her) and head out the door to the National Gallery. I find parking on the street, tuck her in her stroller and we're off. We take the elevator upstairs and at the fountain in the rotunda, I notice her looking up at the dome ceiling, entranced. I slow down and ask her about it. She says it's "round."

We head first to my old favorites - the Duccio's. Early (perhaps some of the earliest) Renaissance painting, he has a wonderful ability to be both simple and complex at the same time. We first look at the Nativity. She recognizes Mary and Jesus. We discuss for a bit whether it's a "donkey and ox" behind the manger or, for her, a "horse and a cow." When I tell her that it looks like a horse, but that it's actually a donkey, she says "yes, but it looks like a horse." Fair point. She then asks who the figures are on the right and left. I tell her they're Isaiah and Ezekiel, old testament prophets. "Are they friends of Jesus?" she says. "Yes," I say. "They're Jesus' friends."

We then look at Peter and Andrew on the boat. I ask her what they're doing. She says "they're getting fish." I agree. We look closely at the fish, particularly my favorite one in the bottom-right hand corner (he's facing out - towards the viewer).

We then roll on, to the newly renovated French galleries. I look for a while at the Cezanne landscapes. She's getting restless, so I head back out of there, promising a stop at the cafe for a snack. On our way to the concourse between the East and West wing we pass the entrance for the new show of George Bellows and I can't resist. We duck in, and she starts singing a song she's made up - the words aren't super-clear but it seems to be "This is not so LOUD." She keeps singing it, louder and louder. People are looking and smiling. The Bellows looks amazing as we cruise through - New York city scenes and the famous boxing paintings and some great later paintings of the sea. But with the singing I keep rolling and we're soon down in the concourse, eating coffee-cake and drinking our apple juice (her) and coffee (me).

We then keep going to the long people mover that goes through a silvery tunnel lit up with lights. Like at the airport. Except with better flashing lights. We sing Twinkle Twinkle and hold hands.

In the East building she wants to see the Calder mobiles in the lower level. We love to lay on the ground underneath them and watch them move (and have been doing since she was little). Today we were doing this and some older kids came in (maybe 7, 8 years old) and they joined us, laying on the ground watching the mobiles slowly (very slowly) turn. His animal figures are in there too and she identified them all - including the peacock which, even to me, barely looks like a peacock.

We lingered a bit at the Helen Frankenthaler - Mountains and the Sea (thankfully hung back up). Then a quick spin through the rest of the floor. Once we get back up to the landing, I realize we're outside the auditorium. And that they're screening a film. And it's a children's film - a collection of 30's Disney "Silly Symphonies" (in Technicolor!). We slip in, and it's the first time I've been in a theater with Juliet. Our timing is perfect, one segment is just ending as we find seats in the back. The credits come up and we watch "The Tortise and the Hare". She laughs at the funny parts and cheers with everyone at the end when the turtle wins. During the second short (a surreal, frankly weird one entitled "Water Babies" that must have either made sense in the 30's or make sense to small children), she scooted over in her chair and leaned her head on my arm, I put my arm around her and she tucked into my chest, eyes on the screen.

It's time to head home so we swoop out of the museum, into the car, onto the highway, and are back in exactly 14 minutes. Lunch is leftover spaghetti. We read our newspapers. Then story time, songs (including a version of Tangled Up in Blue, her new favorite song - her favorite line? "she turned around to look at me / as I was walking away.")

After nap, I want to head back to another museum. She agrees, but wants an afternoon snack first. We go to Peregrine coffee house and have a ginger cookie. And juice. And iced coffee (for me). Then down to the mall - but first she wants to check out the Folklife Festival. We wander over, stopping for a watermelon slice and then wander though the section on Land Grant colleges. We stop at the Mississippi State tent and milk a fake cow. It's hot. 104. We need to find a fountain. And some water. We walk over to the Smithsonian Castle (she saw some fountains there when we drove by earlier). And on our way there she sees the Carousel. We take a spin, but unlike a year ago, when she was fairly oblivious, this time the speed of the carousel scares her a bit. I hold her tight and she smiles, we tell the horses to go! Go faster!

Then more juice from a refreshment stand and we head to the Hirschorn. I really want to go inside - but she wants to stay by the fountain. We splash each other. Take pictures of each other. A middle-eastern woman wearing a headscarf comes over and asks to take a picture of Juliet. She says "cheese" and the woman smiles. Afterwards she gives Juliet a hug and kisses her forehead. Juliet is in awe. She waves as the woman walks away. Ai Weiwei's sculptures of animals from the Chinese Zodiac are in a ring around the fountain. She likes the dog, and the chicken, and horse (of course), but wants to find the one of the fox. We have to walk around and look at them all (monkey, dragon...) - before we're sure there's no fox. Although there should be. We can't put our feet in the Hirschorn fountain, so we head over to the National Gallery fountain... it's hot. The spots in the shade are taken, so we pick a somewhat shaded spot and finish our drinks and splash some more.

It's getting on 5:00 by this point - time to head home. Karen has pizza and a salad (fresh carrots and green peppers and tomatoes from the garden!) ready and we tuck in... then, after dinner, Juliet and I head out to water the garden. Juliet pretends it's raining so she can wear her rain boots and carry her umbrella. We take turns with the hose, give all the plants a good drink, then plant a few cucumbers just for fun. It's fun to get dirty. And splash in mud puddles. She's really good at turning the faucet for the hose on and off, so we turn it off one last time then head back inside to "wash our feet" (take a bath) and then watch another Silly Symphony on YouTube (she wants to watch Tortoise and the Hare again), then one story and some songs and.... she's asleep.

That's the gist of the day. There are a thousand things to capture. She's curious about so many things now. Asking lots of thoughtful questions (who built our house? when? why did they build it for us?) and making sense out of the world. Constantly connecting things, telling and re-telling the same stories over and over again. Bringing up things that happened weeks ago, but that are obviously still on her mind. It's a wonder to watch and I just feel lucky to be here, and be a part of it..

Updated: Here's a set of photographs from today.