Do Scottish people have purple hair?

I love New Orleans, pretty much everything about it, except maybe the crime and smell, both of which seem to be improving by the way. I have taken many train rides down to meet my mom for Jazzfest and the spring is my favorite time to visit. I knew I wanted to take Holt as soon as he was old enough and I really wanted a weekend to spend with just him. He and I don’t have as much one on one time, obviously. I am so glad that Holt has a sibling, but there have been a few times since Harper Ann’s arrival that I have felt like I destroyed Holt’s little life by having another child. There he was as happy as a clam with all the attention in the world and then bam, there is this little baby that doesn’t do anything but mess up your whole routine. These feelings pass, mind you, but I certainly miss our us time. Holt has been asking to go to New Orleans for a while. The Christmas before Holt turned two, I bought him the CD “Choo, Choo, Bugaloo” by Buckwheat Zydeco. The CD is great and the format has narration and songs. The train conductor tells you about heading down to New Orleans on the Mardi Gras express and the songs tell the story of the train ride. Holt had the whole thing memorized by his second birthday and could sing pretty much every word. One of the songs on the CD is the Mardi Gras mambo and there is a line about down on LaSalle and Rampart streets, so Holt was very excited when we were exploring the Quarter to see the streets he has been singing about the past two years. We stayed with my cousin Vasser, her husband George and their cat Deuce McCattister. Holt talked about Deuce and George and their Wii pretty much nonstop on the ride home.

We left Cleveland on Friday morning. I was packing our bags when Holt asked me if there were going to be toys in New Orleans at Vasser’s house. I told him probably not kid toys, but that he could pack a few, he went a little crazy and started gathering army men, monster trucks and tractors and shoving them in his backpack. Next time I will just say yes and do my own toy packing. With the car packed and enough toys and books to entertain an army of kids we were on our way, when Holt informed me that we needed to get donuts before we left I asked him why. He said, “if we are going to be eating French donuts (I had been telling him about Café Du Monde) I need some American ones first.” So, to Delta Cream we went. We talked and I fielded questions like “why do volcano’s have lava and why do clouds change?” We played I spy, which, in the Delta, gets a little stale after the first 15 minutes. But, when we got to New Orleans, all our entertainment woes were gone. We went to the Aquarium and walked along the Riverwalk; Watched the Riverboats and Barges push up and down the river; ate Beignets at Café Du Monde; danced to a band playing in the street; explored Faulkner’s Alley and Chased pigeons with Jack and Alyssa in Jackson Square; ate gelato from an ice cream bistro in the quarter; ate burgers and pie at the Camellia Grill; explored Audubon Park; and rode the streetcar down St. Charles. Basically, we did it all and I loved every minute of it; I think Holt did too.

As a kid I had moments, one very vivid one sitting in my grandfather’s lap, when everything seemed perfect and safe and secure and I would think I wish I could stay right here forever. As I got older and realized I could not, in fact, pause time, I found myself in moments wishing that I could remember everything that was happening and how I felt because an experience was so pleasant, and even though I knew it would end, I wanted to seer it into my memory so I could go there when I took walks down memory lane. This trip was full of those moments for me. I want to remember the look on Holt’s face as he walked through the tunnel of fish and stingrays at the aquarium; or when he stood wide-eyed at the shark tank pointing out the shark that had a bloody nose (it was in fact busted); or how Holt would tell me the names of all the fish and animals that were nowhere near the names on the exhibit markers; or how excited he was about the engine room on the Natchez Riverboat; or the way he danced, timidly at first building to an all-out shake, to the band playing music in the street; or the way he talked non-stop the whole way down and the whole way back, excluding the few hours he took to take an uncomfortable nap on the way home. I know he and I will have very different memories of his first trip to New Orleans, but I hope they will be equally as sweet.

Holt liked the "french donut" okak, but said that he really preferred the little American ones. He was a big fan of the coffee though.

Riding on the St. Charles Streetcar

Holt was amazed by the palm trees. We have got to get this kid to the beach.
When we were at the Camellia Grill Holt had to go to the bathroom. To get there you have to go through the kitchen. Holt asked said, they have a bathroom in the kitchen, isn't that crazy? He had to potty 3 times while we were there. I think he just wanted to walk through the kitchen. Then when we went to Cafe Du Monde, their bathroom is in the kitchen too. On the way home Holt asked me why all the restaurants in New Orleans had their bathrooms in the kitchens.

The wind "burping" in his faceOnly in New Orleans would you find this sign in an Aquarium bathroom. The best part was that there was a woman in there who saw me taking this picture and asked me why I was taking it. I told her I thought it was funny and she looked at me like I was crazy. Ah, New Orleans. Waiting on our meal at the Camellia Grill.
Holt told me that New Orleans trees were better for climbing than the trees at home.

Showing me the shark with a bloody nose

Again, the in the Camellia Grill kitchen on potty trip no. 2.

I bought this sword for Holt at the aquarium and George told him the proper name was a cutlass. Holt carries his cutlass with him everywhere and has corrected me several times when I have referred to it as a sword.

Holt was born during my second year of law school. I have told y'all before about Lisa and how she is responsible for my surviving law school with a child. Well, Jim and Alyssa are some of our other friends from law school and Alyssa had Jack (pictured above) during our third year. Holt and Jack spent many an evening/afternoon/morning together while the Farrells and I were in class. We shared babysitters, Lisa and Jonathan. It was so nice having friends who could share your stress over parenting and law school. They meant so much to us then and it was wonderful to see Jack and Alyssa. It was awesome that Alyssa, 8 months pregnant, was willing to drive over for the morning. Holt had so much fun with Jack, chasing pigeons and throwing pennies in the fountain. I have seen the Farrells a few times since we graduated, but each time I am shocked by how grown up Jack is. It is one thing to watch your child every day, but it is a completely different feeling when you see a child intermittently and realize how quickly time flies.

"After them!"

This was taken on the way home. Holt bought a Kentucky Derby race game and wanted to "surprise" Jonathan with it, so he rode the whole way home with this game "hidden" behind his back. I couldn't get him to take it out, and the next thing I knew he was sleeping in the most uncomfortable position ever.

Below are a few of my favorite Holtisms from the trip


Playing I spy with a 4 y/o in the delta is very anticlimactic, particularly when said 4 y/o has “spied” grass the past 5 times. Finally, a white house breaks the monotony and I say “I spy something white.” Multiple wrong guesses later, “it’s over in that area and has a roof.” “That house, my turn...I spy something... green over in this area, on the ground and spikey.” Oh for the love of...

I think every school in the greater NOLA area decided to go to the aquarium on the Friday we got there. Holt looked at me and asked what color tshirt we were supposed to be wearing.

After driving through Yazoo City and seeing the destruction left by a recent tornado Holt said, "that bad ol' tornado was just mean. Someone should teach it a lesson"

I woke up on Saturday morning to Holt talking to Deuce. "come here Deuce McCATtister I want to bark in your face." " don't bark in the cats face Holt" "it's okay mama he likes it, it's what we do"

Walking through the quarter Holt pulls on my arm and in a very concerned voice asks "mama, do I have to get a tattoo when I grow up?" "No Holt, I would prefer you didn't" "good, I was worried"

On our way down to New Orleans Holt asked me to roll the window down. It was misting outside, but we were on hour four of the drive and we don't have a DVD player in the car and I spy had taken an awful turn around Jackson, so I figured a little drizzle on my seat was a small price to pay. I rolled his window down (...it was on childlock) and then I hear "roll it up, roll it up, the wind is burping in my face"

On the way home, sans drizzle, Holt asked me to roll his window down. When I did he says "atta girl!" "Did you just tell me atta girl, Holt?" "yes ma'am, it means good job, that'll do."

While waiting for the street car on St. Charles I am watching Holt watch all the joggers. Most of the guys are running with their shirts off and the women in sports bras. When we get on the relatively crowded trolley Holt says "there sure are a lot of naked people in New Orleans." "you have no idea kid, we haven't even... seen Bourbon St." Holt, in a very excited voice says "can we go there next?"

In the park Holt tugs on my arm "mama, boys aren't supposed to wear skirts, are they?" "not unless they're Scottish" "do the Scottish have purple hair?" "no, why" "that boy with purple hair is wearing a skirt."

Holt - "walk walk walk back and forth back and forth this place is making me tired. I'm glad Mississippi doesn't go so fast." "me too Holt, me too."