A Train to Somewhere
How does Louis feel about weekends?
He loves them almost as much as his parents do. And we love nothing better than a free day of Mama-Baba-Louis time--especially when trains are involved.
We have ridden a few trains as a family, starting with a small one in the Beijing airport nine months ago today, but Louis (and his father) can never get enough of them. Now and then, we talk about where we could take a train. We could go to Philadelphia to visit Louis's cousins Andrew and Lily. We could go to New York to see cousins Julia, Gregory, Mary, and Paul. We could even go as far as Rhode Island to see cousins John Paul and Joseph. But, despite our trip to China, we're not great travelers.
Instead, John suggested yesterday that we take a ride on the local above-ground commuter train. You couldn't beat the price for Louis--he's free until he turns 6--and our tickets were quite a bit cheaper than the fare to Rhode Island. We splurged on two all-day passes ($3.50 each), waited for our train, and hopped aboard.
Our plan was to ride until we got off and then catch a train back to our car.
No destination? And a morning riding a train? That was just fine with Louis.
The engineer greeted us and another passenger--sensing our excitement--even yelled "Whee!" when we started, just to add to the atmosphere. There was no distracting Louis, who kept his eyes facing forward or out the windows, taking everything in as we rode.
We didn't have much company on our Saturday morning commuter train. And Louis had even less patience for his mother's photos during our train adventure.
But, despite our son's refusal to participate, I took a few anyway.
Note how Louis is carefully looking away. He laughed when I showed him the picture, delighted in his success.
We passed other trains, speeding past the windows. We went through tunnels and over bridges. We counted tank cars in a train yard. We said, "Ding, ding" when we saw a train signal. We admired the winding tracks and the blue sky. We saw a heron standing in a lake.
We listened to the screeching wheels of the train cars and made train horn noises ourselves. We tried to see our friends' backyard--Louis knows the train goes through the trees behind their house--but we could only make a good guess as to where it was. I pointed out what we call "Dickadoo Road," where Louis and I drive almost every day, our recording of "A Birthday for Frances" turned down and our windows rolled down as we listen and look for trains like the one we were riding. At the end of the day, Louis can always tell Baba how many trains we saw. (On days when we see none, no one can sound more mournful than Louis saying "any trains...any trains" as we turn the corner away from the tracks.)
Yesterday we saw plenty.
As we rode, Louis was uninterested in the conversation about where we should get off--and his parents didn't care much more than he did. We just wanted to get back in time to get some lunch and then have time for the All-Important Afternoon Nap.
In the end, we just picked a stop and got off to explore.
We found a fountain and tossed in a penny.
We stopped to visit a church.
It was locked--drat--so we couldn't visit. Louis wanted us to try the doors again. They were still locked.
Still, there was plenty to see.
And Louis found some sideways train tracks and a walking curb designed just for him.
When we walked back to the stop to catch our train back, we realized what a lucky choice we had made.
Our train stop (station would be too grand a term for the unshaded sidewalk where we waited) was overlooking a train line, and we were lucky to see a train of what I was told are empty auto racks.
Then we waited for our train.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited a little more.
Louis couldn't understand why we refused to take one of the many perfectly wonderful trains heading south just because we wanted to go north. Finally, our train arrived.
On the way back, Louis decided he wanted to take pictures--"Do it self!" They ended up looking a lot like this.
The train soothed Louis to sleep, dashing his parents' hopes for an afternoon nap. But it also meant Louis was rejuvenated for lunch where Baba found yet another way to entertain him, forming a straw train from his lips to his milk.
Louis is good at coming up with his own forms of entertainment. He makes letters using his silverware--this, he proudly announced was "X for Uncle Ricky."
And he always loves shopping.
But next time we have a free morning and a few dollars, we may just have to hop another train--to an undetermined destination.
He loves them almost as much as his parents do. And we love nothing better than a free day of Mama-Baba-Louis time--especially when trains are involved.
We have ridden a few trains as a family, starting with a small one in the Beijing airport nine months ago today, but Louis (and his father) can never get enough of them. Now and then, we talk about where we could take a train. We could go to Philadelphia to visit Louis's cousins Andrew and Lily. We could go to New York to see cousins Julia, Gregory, Mary, and Paul. We could even go as far as Rhode Island to see cousins John Paul and Joseph. But, despite our trip to China, we're not great travelers.
Instead, John suggested yesterday that we take a ride on the local above-ground commuter train. You couldn't beat the price for Louis--he's free until he turns 6--and our tickets were quite a bit cheaper than the fare to Rhode Island. We splurged on two all-day passes ($3.50 each), waited for our train, and hopped aboard.
Our plan was to ride until we got off and then catch a train back to our car.
No destination? And a morning riding a train? That was just fine with Louis.
The engineer greeted us and another passenger--sensing our excitement--even yelled "Whee!" when we started, just to add to the atmosphere. There was no distracting Louis, who kept his eyes facing forward or out the windows, taking everything in as we rode.
We didn't have much company on our Saturday morning commuter train. And Louis had even less patience for his mother's photos during our train adventure.
But, despite our son's refusal to participate, I took a few anyway.
Note how Louis is carefully looking away. He laughed when I showed him the picture, delighted in his success.
We passed other trains, speeding past the windows. We went through tunnels and over bridges. We counted tank cars in a train yard. We said, "Ding, ding" when we saw a train signal. We admired the winding tracks and the blue sky. We saw a heron standing in a lake.
We listened to the screeching wheels of the train cars and made train horn noises ourselves. We tried to see our friends' backyard--Louis knows the train goes through the trees behind their house--but we could only make a good guess as to where it was. I pointed out what we call "Dickadoo Road," where Louis and I drive almost every day, our recording of "A Birthday for Frances" turned down and our windows rolled down as we listen and look for trains like the one we were riding. At the end of the day, Louis can always tell Baba how many trains we saw. (On days when we see none, no one can sound more mournful than Louis saying "any trains...any trains" as we turn the corner away from the tracks.)
Yesterday we saw plenty.
As we rode, Louis was uninterested in the conversation about where we should get off--and his parents didn't care much more than he did. We just wanted to get back in time to get some lunch and then have time for the All-Important Afternoon Nap.
In the end, we just picked a stop and got off to explore.
We found a fountain and tossed in a penny.
We stopped to visit a church.
It was locked--drat--so we couldn't visit. Louis wanted us to try the doors again. They were still locked.
Still, there was plenty to see.
And Louis found some sideways train tracks and a walking curb designed just for him.
When we walked back to the stop to catch our train back, we realized what a lucky choice we had made.
Our train stop (station would be too grand a term for the unshaded sidewalk where we waited) was overlooking a train line, and we were lucky to see a train of what I was told are empty auto racks.
Then we waited for our train.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited a little more.
Louis couldn't understand why we refused to take one of the many perfectly wonderful trains heading south just because we wanted to go north. Finally, our train arrived.
On the way back, Louis decided he wanted to take pictures--"Do it self!" They ended up looking a lot like this.
The train soothed Louis to sleep, dashing his parents' hopes for an afternoon nap. But it also meant Louis was rejuvenated for lunch where Baba found yet another way to entertain him, forming a straw train from his lips to his milk.
Louis is good at coming up with his own forms of entertainment. He makes letters using his silverware--this, he proudly announced was "X for Uncle Ricky."
And he always loves shopping.
But next time we have a free morning and a few dollars, we may just have to hop another train--to an undetermined destination.
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