GRAM

It snowed this morning in a pretty, harmless way, blanketing the yards with a lovely white but melting on the pavement so as not to be icy and scary. We stopped at Kava House for coffee after church and then drove all around Heritage Hill and the fancier parts of our town, generally feeling cozy and wintry in spite of the fact that the girls spent much of that time arguing over every possible topic (A: "It's cold." J: "Nuh-uh" A: "Yes IT IS!" etc. because they can really argue about anything. It's like a sport for them).

By this afternoon, it was less pretty and cozy, more ugly and rainy. I read my Parents' Magazine while Jemma napped and Annie tried on one million "accessories" in her bedroom during quiet time, then decided that I needed to do something uplifting and interesting with my afternoon instead of watching The Food Network, half-doing various cleaning projects, and being annoyed with bored, aimless children. So I took Annie to the art museum.

She'd never been there before, so I explained how it was a place where only grown-ups and big girls get to go, how you have to look with your eyes and not touch, how it would be just like in the Olivia book. I let her wear some lip gloss. She carried her spangly purse.

When we got there, two women were playing classical piano duets and Annie was instantly mesmerized. She wanted to sit down and watch, so we did, and she swung her legs in time to the music. Then we wandered around, holding hands and talking about some of the art. She wanted nothing to do with the photography exhibit. She loved the giant, modern art pieces best. She asked me lots of questions about portraits ("Mom, why does that girl look sad?" about a Cassatt, "What is WRONG with that face?" about a Picasso). She sat right down on the second floor, crossed her legs, and watched the piano concert through the glass balcony. I sat next to her and admired her poise.

But if you asked her what her favorite thing was, she would say it was the gift shop. We sat in the kids section of it for at least half an hour, paging through books about artists, playing with the soft baby toys, admiring the design of almost everything. I told her she could pick one thing to bring home for herself and one for Jemma. And then she found them: the scented pencils. It's funny, because there really couldn't be a more perfect gift for a girl who both loves to draw and loves to SMELL THINGS. And I had just read about them (maybe in my Parents' Magazine?) and thought it would be a fun stocking stuffer for her. She smelled every single scent and finally chose Candy Cane for herself and Sugar Cookie for Jemma ("because her cheeks smell like cookies"). I scored a couple teacher gifts for Christmas, and our art museum outing was complete.