Is your kid’s idea of fun brushing a baby goat? Or do they really dig dinosaurs? Perhaps they prefer practicing kickflips or traversing hiking trails. Whether your child is into Picasso or planets, skipping rocks or riding roller coasters, there is something for every interest, every age, and every family in the Baltimore area.

For Rachel Zillig, a mom of two in Baltimore County, the pandemic had a huge impact on her family’s activities. With libraries, museums, and just about every other kid-friendly place shut down, “We had to seek out other stuff or we’d have gone insane just sitting in the house,” says Zillig, whose Instagram account, @BaltimoreFamilyFun, details their adventures in the area. Now that most places have opened back up, she’s looking forward to visiting old favorites like Port Discovery and the Maryland Zoo in Baltimore, but she’s not giving up the local parks and outdoor activities they enjoyed during COVID-19. “Just walking around the Inner Harbor during the day is a fun activity for my kids. They love looking at the boats.”

If your family has a particular place you love to visit again and again, consider purchasing a membership. The pandemic had a devastating impact on the arts, entertainment, and recreation sector, with nearly 60 percent of museums forced to cut back on education, programming, and other public services, according to Artnet News.

But things are looking up, with plenty of Baltimore regional destinations open and ready to safely do business. Check out our guide to find out what’s happening at new and old family favorites throughout the region this summer.

PORT DISCOVERY CHILDREN’S MUSEUM
35 Market Pl., Baltimore, MD 21202.
Three floors of interactive exhibits and settings for imaginative play will keep toddlers and preschoolers entertained for hours. Kids ages 5-12 can build confidence and motor skills as they scale the multi-story SkyClimber. This always-changing museum is “huge but never seems crowded,” says Zillig, whose family’s favorites include the replica Royal Farms, a delightfully realistic pretend diner, and a water playroom. (Pro tip: bring a change of clothes!)

THE NATIONAL AQUARIUM
501 E Pratt St., Baltimore, MD 21202.
No matter how many times you visit the Aquarium, there’s always something new to see. You could spend an entire day searching for the sloths in the tropical rainforest or being mesmerized by all the different kinds of jellyfish. With more than 20,000 aquatic creatures, an enormous shark tank, and hands-on exhibits, kids will be educated and entertained every time. Note: strollers are not permitted.

MARYLAND SCIENCE CENTER
601 Light St., Baltimore, MD 21230.
Come for the dinosaurs, stay for the interactive science exhibits. Kids can create their own inventions, lie on a bed of nails, learn about the human body, and experience the electromagnetic spectrum through light and prisms. Don’t miss the planetarium, rooftop observatory, and IMAX theater, too.

THE MARYLAND ZOO
1 Safari Pl., Baltimore, MD 21217.
From the perky prairie dogs to the gentle giraffes to the cheeky chimpanzees, this world-class zoo is home to more than 1,500 amazing animals—including the largest African penguin breeding colony in North America. Your wild things can run amok along the shady paved paths and ride the new zero emissions electric shuttles back to the free parking lot when they’re tired.

BALTIMORE MUSEUM OF ART
10 Art Museum Dr., Baltimore, MD 21218.
There’s more to the BMA than the Cone Collection’s Matisses and Monets. Kids who like dollhouses will adore the Cheney Miniatures Gallery, and the museum’s African art collection features 2,500
masks, textiles, and other works from more than 200 cultures. Indoor voices are not required to explore the outdoor sculpture garden. Currently, reservations are required for free admission. Strollers and front baby carriers are permitted in the museum.

LAKE ROLAND PARK & NATURE CENTER
1000 Lakeside Dr., Baltimore, MD, 21210.
The Lake Roland Dam is the focal point of this 500-acre sanctuary in the middle of Baltimore. Popular among pet owners for its fenced-in Paw Point dog park (membership required), Lake Roland features a unique playground, a new nature center, various hiking and biking trails, and a boardwalk from the Falls Road Light Rail station. Stop by Tropicool Italian Ice afterward for a sweet treat.

OREGON RIDGE PARK & NATURE CENTER
13555 Beaver Dam Rd., Cockeysville, MD 21030.
This 1000-plus-acre park is a great place to burn off energy. It features several playgrounds, picnic areas, plenty of trails ranging from easy to challenging, and a quarry where you can skip rocks and watch the ducks. Several animal enclosures house bunnies, geese, chickens and more, and the nature center hosts educational events and storytimes.

LADEW TOPIARY GARDENS
3535 Jarrettsville Pike, Monkton, MD 21111.
Unicorn-shaped shrubs, windows carved into hedges, koi ponds, an enchanting teahouse, butterfly house, and gift shop are just some of the delights you’ll find here, along with 22 acres of space to run wild and enjoy nature. Admission required; children under two are free.

RASH FIELD PARK
300 Key Highway, Baltimore, MD 21230.
Baltimore’s newest park opened last November in the heart of the Inner Harbor. Kids can clamber up a pair of 35-foot wooden towers in the Adventure Park, slip down a giant slide, soar on the swings, dig in the sand pit, or bring their board and drop into the skate park.

THE GO-KART TRACK
10907 Pulaski Hwy., White Marsh, MD 21162.
Feel the need for speed? With three different go-kart tracks, a mini-golf course (half price on weekdays), and all the classic arcade games, there’s something for everyone here. Kids aged 3 and up can join a driver age 16+ on the Family Track, and speed demons at least 52” tall can drop the pedal to the medal on the Drift Track.

SKATEPARK OF BALTIMORE
1121 W 36th St., Baltimore, MD 21211.
Got a budding skateboarder or trick scooter rider? Strap on your pads and helmet and hit this Hampden hotspot. It’s free and open daily from dawn to dusk. If you need some new grip tape, Vu Skate Shop is just around the corner on Falls Road.

EASTERN WATERSPORTS
4001 Bay Dr., 7200 Graces Quarters Rd., and 7400 Graces Quarters Rd., Middle River, MD 21220.
You don’t have to drive to Annapolis or Ocean City to get a taste of salt life. With three locations, two within Gunpowder Falls State Park and two with legitimate sandy beaches, this seasonal shop rents kayaks, stand-up paddleboards, and canoes by the hour. Children under 10 can accompany a parent or guardian on a tandem kayak or paddleboard. Kids 10 and up can rent their own with a renting adult.

SPLASH PADS
Multiple locations.
Looking to cool down and get wet on a hot day, no pool membership required? Baltimore City is home to several splash pads, including at West Shore Park in the Inner Harbor, Mt. Vernon Children’s Park, and The Rotunda. Visit BaltimoreFamilies.org/pools for locations.

BALTIMORE COUNTY PUBLIC LIBRARY “STORYVILLE”
There’s more to the library than storytime. Storyville, located at Baltimore County Public Library’s Rosedale and Woodlawn branches, is a play-and-learn center designed to promote early literacy and school-readiness skills in children ages 0-5. This enchanting child-sized village features books, toys, and activities for tots and their parents or caregivers.

DUTCH WONDERLAND
2249 Lincoln Hwy. E, Lancaster, PA 17602.
This amusement park in Amish country is extremely popular with young families for a reason. The 48-acre layout is accessible, not overwhelming, and the rides are geared toward little kids. Duke’s Lagoon is a water park within the park that’s worth a visit all on its own.

HERSHEYPARK
100 Hersheypark Dr., Hershey, PA 17033.
Thrillseekers throng to this family theme park, created by the famous chocolatier Milton S. Hershey, which features tons of rides, including 15 roller coasters. There are plenty of attractions for the littler set, too. The one-price admission includes all the rides, the water park, and ZooAmerica.

SIX FLAGS AMERICA
13710 Central Ave., Bowie, MD 20721.
Six Flags is home to some of the fastest, tallest, wildest rides in the country, including Firebird, billed as “America’s only floorless roller coaster.” Younger kids can enjoy at least a dozen rides all by themselves. Admission includes access to the Hurricane Harbor waterpark, featuring an 800,000-gallon wave pool and 25 water slides.

KINGS DOMINION
16000 Theme Park Way, Doswell, VA 23047.
Got tweens and teens? Take a three-hour drive to this amusement park near Richmond. Already home to 13 roller coasters, the park will introduce Tumbili, a brand-new, 4D spin coaster, as part of its new-in-2022 immersive Jungle X-pedition. For the little ones, there’s Planet Snoopy. Admission includes access to the Soak City waterpark.

GROWN UP DINING, KID APPROVED

Dining out with kids doesn’t have to be expensive or stressful if you choose one of these family-friendly eateries, offering everything from pizza to medieval feasts.

R. HOUSE
301 W. 29th St., Baltimore, MD 21211.
Food courts and food halls, like this one located in Remington, are great options for dining with kids for a few reasons. First, there’s something for even the pickiest eater. Choose from 10 stalls offering a variety of fare, from pizza and fried chicken sandwiches to poké bowls and Korean BBQ. Second, the kids can be as loud as they like, and there’s room to stretch your legs when sitting at a table gets tiresome.

BELVEDERE SQUARE MARKET
529 E Belvedere Ave., Baltimore, MD 21212.
More than a food market, this North Baltimore hotspot near The Senator Theatre is a great place to dine indoors or out at any time of day. Food vendors include Atwater’s, Ejji Ramen, Plantbar, and The Pizza Trust. The Square hosts a Friday night concert series during the summer months.

STONE MILL BAKERY & CAFE
10751 Falls Rd. Suite 123, Lutherville-Timonium, MD 21093.
If you’re shopping at Greenspring Station or have a kids’ sporting event across the street at Meadowood Regional Park, pop into this bustling cafe for refreshments. Choose from salads, soups, sandwiches, and unparalleled sugar cookies. If the weather’s nice, sit outside by a babbling brook and let the kids climb on the stone turtles.

JASON’S DELI
8874 McGaw Rd., Columbia, MD 21045.
With menus for kids, vegetarians, and gluten-sensitive diners, this reasonably priced chain has long been a favorite for families. (The free ice cream doesn’t hurt!) Sadly, the Timonium location closed during COVID, but the Columbia restaurant is open for business.

MEDIEVAL TIMES
7000 Arundel Mills Circle, Hanover, MD 21076.
If you dread family dinners or just want something different, there’s nothing like a meal and a show set in a medieval Spanish “castle.” Feast on turkey legs–or a surprisingly tasty vegetarian option–as you watch knights on horseback jousting for a fair maiden’s hand. Yes, it’s a bit sexist and over-the-top, but the spectacle is part of the fun. If you’re looking to get your kids off screens and into a real-life adventure, this is it.

What’s the ultimate cure for this recent heaviness? Puppies, of course.

In the past few weeks, families have been using the forced time at home to finally say yes to the question they’ve been asked for months/years: “Can we get a puppy . . . Pleeeaaassseeee???”

“For years, my kids have asked—daily—for a dog,” says Jessica Klaitman. Slowly, she and her husband’s firm “no” had started to soften. “Not that we ever told the kids that,” jokes Klaitman, who lives in Towson. Then quarantine hit.

As she walked her kids home from school on March 13th, the last day that schools were open, a dog was the last thing on her mind.

“A week later though, as the reality of our collective situation started to sink in, and the tears and frustration started showing,” Klaitman says, “we realized that we needed an infusion of happiness—right now.” Her kids were so surprised when they brought Pepper home, that her daughter asked, “Is that a real dog?”

The Klaitmans’ new dog, Pepper. -Jessica Klaitman

Josie Moon joined the Siegal-Andorsky family on March 23rd, the day Governor Larry Hogan‘s executive order that only essential services remain open in the state went into effect.

The family had been considering getting a dog for about a year, but was hesitant to do so with their busy lifestyle. Their middle child was the one who had been consistently and persistently asking for a dog. She pointed out that this—meaning the pandemic—was the best opportunity to be home with a puppy. “I’ve literally been waiting 10 years for this day to come,” says 10-year old, Nava.

Since the children’s school—Krieger Schechter Day School—had moved to an online learning environment, mom Rachel Siegal had been exploring the pet possibility with renewed vigor.

“When I heard the essential-services-only executive order was coming into effect at 5 p.m., I told myself it was now or never,” Siegal says. “I went and met the puppy by myself at 1:30, leaving the kids at home with my husband, Sam.” (She had learned her lesson from a previous puppy encounter earlier in the week, when they all went and the kids left brokenhearted when she decided that particular dog wasn’t right for them.)

“When I met this puppy I had a sense that she was the one,” says Siegal. After meeting the entire family later that afternoon, the new pup was settled in her new home before the executive order went into effect that night.

“We borrowed some puppy supplies from neighbors, did a curbside pick up order from Petco, found Joy Freedman, a trainer who was willing to do online virtual trainings with us as a family, and we were off and running,” she says.

The Siegal-Andorsky family with their new pup, Josie Moon. -Rachel Siegal

The Sandhu Potter family had been talking about a puppy for a while, given that their last rescue, Freddie, is 17. “We thought we’d do it after she passes,” says Kiran Sandhu. “But since she’s still going pretty strong and we are all home now, we decided to take advantage of the time.”

Hodja, a “probably” collie/corgi mix, is named after Nasreddin Hodja, a Turkish satirist from the 13th century. “We used to read his stories to the kids when they were little,” says Sandhu.

Another big motivating factor for the family was giving the kids something to focus on that isn’t a screen.

“It’s been great having the time to dedicate to a puppy,” says Sandhu, an ESOL educational associate with Baltimore City Public Schools. “I’m not sure how we could have done it with our normal schedules.”

Klaitman agrees it’s a wonderful distraction and way to fill time. “Pepper has been such a wonderful diversion for us,” she says. “And yes, she has succeeded in increasing our happiness exponentially.”

The Sandhu Potter family poses with Hodja.

-Kiran Sandhu

The same is true in the Siegal-Andorsky household. The first day, they filled up a wall in their hallway with Post-It notes covered in possible names for their puppy. Over the course of the second day, they eliminated some names as her personality started to emerge.

Their 13-year old son, Yoni, wanted a nature-based name, like Storm or Ash, reflective of Josie’s merle coat. “We didn’t want to do a name that was anything reminiscent of coronavirus or of this terrible time for our world,” says Siegal.

After day two it became clear that Josie Moon was the name that best suited her chill personality.

“I like to think of her as an old hippie come to our family to help chill us all out,” jokes Siegal. “It’s also been great to have her around for those 15 minutes here and there when the kids have breaks between their Zoom classes. Rather than watch one more YouTube video, they’re coming downstairs to the kitchen to play with the puppy,” she says, mentioning, “That’s not to say they’re not watching hours and hours of YouTube and Netflix—which they are—while Sam and I try to continue to work.”

Says Klaitman, “The kids call her their ‘emotional support dog.’ To be honest, so do the adults. We love our ‘pandemic puppy’ and know that she will help imprint some delightful memories from a difficult time.”

This week our Diamond Nature School of America—the name we gave our homeschool—grinded to a halt.

Not only has Governor Larry Hogan issued a stricter stay-at-home order (yes, we can still be outside on hikes, but more limited locations), but also we found a crazy looking engorged tick on our 9-year-old’s head.

In a way, seeing our pediatrician (though it was initially in the parking lot) felt normal, but as we moved inside the office (since we were both healthy) it all felt so surreal. Empty waiting rooms, doctors in masks. She was able to remove the tick and we have started two weeks of antibiotics.

“Well this was my most interesting case today,” she told me. I laughed. Imagine being told that in the middle of a pandemic. (And now add Lyme disease to my—long—list of worries.)

And while we aren’t afraid of being outside and have added tick checks after all our hand washing, I was happy to compile this list of indoor activities from some beloved local institutions.

I’ll just add that all these options, while well intentioned, can also feel overwhelming. I’m here to say you don’t have to do everything. You can let your kids choose or write each program/video/activity down and choose one or two a day from a bowl. These should only bring joy.

The Maryland Zoo is hosting a new “Zoo To You” Instagram series with animal check-ins every weekday at 11 a.m. We especially love an occasional photo of chimp babies, Lola and Violet.

Center Stage’s “Camp at Home” DIY learning series features eight weeks of interactive at-home storytelling with simple activities and a new unit released each week on Facebook.

The Maryland Science Center has created a “Let’s Science Together” page that includes a massive catalogue of at-home experiments and star maps, along with some live-streaming at home activities (like Maker Monday) and the five-object challenge every Thursday.

The American Visionary Art Museum offers at-home art projects, downloadable coloring pages, educational materials for pre-K through middle school kids, and even a how-to guide on making their beloved sock monkeys at home.

Port Discovery’s Instagram has great #PlayatHome projects for kids, from a simple slime recipe (plus info about animals who create their own slime naturally) to painting with slinky to creating sensory rice bins.

Baltimore County Public Library has a “Storyline” where kids can choose between six different stories each week, read aloud by the librarians. It can be accessed by simply calling 410-887-6116.

National Aquarium has at-home aquatic activities from word finds to coloring books to octopus mask-making, but our favorites are the tank cams of the blue blubber jellies, Pacific coral reef, and the Blacktip Reef exhibit. (Though we really miss Calypso the sea turtle.)

Kevin Sherry, a local kids book illustrator, is doing sing-along’s and live readings of his books on Instagram and his YouTube channel, along with lots of drawings to download and color, and our favorite, “COVID Quarantine with Kinkos,” a short comic about Sherry and his cat.

WTMD’s Home School with Sam Gallant is spinning educational songs every day at 10 a.m. on 89.7 FM or online at wtmd.org. We also love the station’s Young At Heart marathons hosted daily by Lisa Matthews, the lead singer of the Grammy-nominated kids rock band, Milkshake.

Irvine Nature Center has been posting tips for exploring nature at home, plus videos including songs, easy activities, and even some feeding time with their resident vulture, along with sharing their Nature Preschool’s YouTube channel.

Other favorites include pirate story time from Urban Pirates, The Creative Alliance’s Storytime with Drag Queens, and Route One Apparel’s awesome Baltimore coloring book. It’s a free download, but any donation will go straight to their employees.

Feel free to send any other great, local activities to: djanelle@baltimoremagazine.net.

Maryland photographer Mary Brunst first heard about #TheFrontStepsProject through a friend who shared an article on Facebook. Two photographers in Massachusetts had started taking portraits of families—literally on their front steps—as a way to celebrate family, life, and community during this surreal Coronavirus quarantine.

“I thought it was a wonderful way to focus our attention on the good things still happening, as well as support those in our community,” says Brunst. “I wanted to be a part of that here locally.”

Since starting her local initiative, Brunst has photographed more than 30 families. She’s been asking for a voluntary $50 donation (but any amount is acceptable) per session to donate to Micah Clark, a two-and-a-half year old with a rare genetic disease and impaired immune system, a scary diagnosis during the pandemic.

“The Front Steps Project has been an incredibly fun and heartwarming to be a part of,” Brunst says. “It’s wonderful to see the community coming together to help Micah and others immunocompromised like him, while documenting this unusual season of our lives. We’ve never lived through something like this before, and while I’m not at all making light of current circumstances or the seriousness of the issues at hand, I think it’s also important to hold space for the good things happening.”

Specifically, Brunst says she’s been trying to focus on some of the positive of sheltering in place. It helps when the panic comes creeping in.

“It’s not all fear, uncertainty, sickness, and pandemic,” she says. “We are taking quality time to spend with our families, neighbors are helping neighbors, we are learning new hobbies, reading new books, we have the technology to virtually spend time with our friends, we are reaching out and checking in on those we care about—and maybe haven’t talked to in a while—and creating new habits.”

She’s been trying to capture all that on her camera—while communicating and posing people from 20 feet away.

“I’m practicing safe and significant social distancing—and I don’t believe that what I’m doing is any different than going out to walk my dog,” says Brunst, who unfortunately thinks her project will now be on hold, post Governor Larry Hogan’s stay-at-home order.

Heather Smertycha Bailey had Brunst come photograph her family last week.

“When I saw The Front Steps Project Instagram post, I knew I wanted to be a part of it,” Bailey says. “Mary brought huge laughs and smiles to our faces during this time of uncertainty and isolation. This time in quarantine has been a reconnection in many ways. It’s reminded my family to slow down, get back to the basics and enjoy one other.”

Maria Linz O’Brien, a family and wedding photographer, has also been using this unprecedented time to shoot families on their porches and stoops.

“Every one of us is doing our part to keep our families and neighbors safe, but social distancing can be stressful and isolating,” O’Brien says. “We’ve had some beautiful days these last couple of weeks, so I wanted to get outside and do what I love.”

For O’Brien, it’s all about bringing joy to her neighbors. She is also looking forward to providing photos for them to look back on in years to come.

“Social distancing is hard, but one of the benefits is the extra time many of us are getting to spend with family,” she says. “A lot of families, including almost 40 I have photographed in the last week, are happy to get to document this time, and have some nice family photos too.”

Like Brunst, she’s been trying to focus on the silver lining.

“I’m glad I’ve been able to bring a little relief from the stress,” she says. “There are ways we can all make this time a little more bearable for everyone and safely continue doing the things we love.”

I’m not going to sugarcoat it. This has been hard. We survived a week of adjustments and togetherness (so much togetherness) and that sinking feeling, for this extrovert, of deleting her entire color-coded Google calendar for the foreseeable future.

After an intense family vote, we’ve officially named our homeschool, “The Diamond Nature School of America.” My nine-year-old, Zeke, created a logo and I promised we would make tee shirts at some point. The name is fitting, as we’ve done most of our “schooling” this past week outdoors.

While properly practicing social distancing, we visited the Daniels Area at Patapsco Valley State Park, NCR Trail, Gunpowder Falls South Trail, Beverly Triton Beach Park, Cromwell Valley Park, and Historic Jerusalem Mill Village. Even on the rainy days I make my kids put on their raincoats and take a walk around the block. (“Don’t go near anyone. Don’t touch anything,” I reiterate to them.) Fresh air cures all, for them and for me. A walk in the woods is my Xanax.

But I know there also needs to be some semblance of school. “This isn’t a vacation,” I keep reminding my oldest. (And myself.) But I’m struggling. Four kids, three grades, and one family laptop. (I may have had my 13-year-old write a persuasive essay last week about why he needed Xbox Live.)

So, I reached out to two friends—Jennifer Solomon and Miranda Altschuler—who homeschool by choice to see if they could offer some suggestions to those of us who are homeschooling by being thrown off a cliff.

Solomon and Altschuler both homeschool a gaggle of girls. Solomon’s are 4, 7, and 10, and Altschuler, in addition to a brand-new baby, has an 11, 8, and 5 year old.

“We began homeschooling a few years ago and have never looked back,” Solomon says. “During one particularly enthusiastic moment, I may have even said that homeschooling is just so wonderful, everyone should do it—but I didn’t actually mean it, you guys,” she jokes.

Altschuler adds that, as longtime homeschoolers, her family’s adjustment hasn’t been quite so drastic. But for parents who are finding themselves suddenly homeschooling, she hopes that the following tips help “provide a bit of clarity amidst the chaos.”

1. Our “best” is going to look different every day, and that is just fine.

JS: Some days, everything will fall into place beautifully and your little angels will engage and learn and you’ll Instagram it all (#coronavirusschooling!) and wonder why you haven’t been doing this all along. Other days will be a struggle. They’ll bicker and you’ll snap, and you’ll find yourself rationalizing any and everything as a learning opportunity just so you can be over-and-done-with-it for the day. So we’re just going to try to get through this the best we can.

2. Go easy on yourself!

JS: Lower your self-expectations and demands. You’ve been thrown into a situation that is new and somewhat scary. That friend of yours posting an hour-by-hour recap of “Mommy-Camp Homeschool” may be well-intentioned, but posts like those can really trigger feelings of inadequacy. Right now we are all feeling vulnerable and, frankly, pretty clueless. None of us knows what we’re doing because, well, none of us has ever faced a GLOBAL PANDEMIC before. Now isn’t the time for competitive parenting.

3. Don’t worry about academic regression.

JS: Your kids are not going to fall behind. I repeat: your kids are not going to fall behind. As a global community, we are all in the same boat—albeit a really terrible, careening, lurching boat (definitely getting a one-star Yelp review from me)—together right now. Your child’s emotional and mental health is more important than their academic progress during this time.

4. Don’t try to recreate school at home.

MA: Schooling at home is less formal and takes less time because there are fewer students. Homeschooling should be made to meet the needs and preferences of your family and individual children. Have your students’ list of goals in front of you while you determine how lesson time should be allocated in your home during this unusual stretch of time.

5. You can be flexible with your schooling when that’s what the mood dictates.

JS: Did your kid read a comic book today? BOOM. Reading. Right there. Did you bake a double batch of cookies together to stress-eat later? Nice! Measuring equals math skills. Play a board game? Logic and reasoning! Spend all day outside? Recess! Nature! Tackle chores and laundry? Life skills. Your kids aren’t going to fall behind; they’re just going to learn a little differently for a while.

6. Consider the whole child.

MA: What are your child’s physical, emotional, and academic needs? Younger students need plenty of free play and new math and phonics skills reinforced. Older students may need to study for the SATs and develop life skills they’ll take with them to college. Every child needs responsibilities around the house and time outside.

7. Don’t try to do ALL the things.

JS: One silver lining to this awful situation has been the outpouring of online resources to help teach and occupy our kids. From art tutorials to virtual field trips to read-alouds to yoga classes, we have an unprecedented wealth of resources at our fingertips. Authors, educators, artists, and musicians are showing their true colors and offering countless activities and videos. And that is amazing, and helpful, and generous, but it is also A LOT.

You don’t have to do all the things. You don’t even have to do five of the things. If you happen to do ONE of the things and your kids enjoy it, that’s great, but there is no pressure to do all the fun things, all the time. It’s exhausting.

8. Seek out great materials and resources.

MA: Explore book lists provided by teachers or found online. Take a look at your own bookshelf. Check out ebooks and audiobooks available through your library. Find books that will naturally pique your child’s interest through engaging narratives, not just text books.

9. Involve your children in the planning.

JS: Kids respond really well when we give them a sense of ownership and treat them as though they are actually our fellow human beings (a difficult concept to grasp sometimes, I know). When children and teens feel respected and included, they are less likely to push back. With ownership comes accountability.

10. Follow through, but ease in.

MA: We don’t want to recreate school at home, but we also don’t want a disorienting free-for-all. For the first few days of your plan, just do skill work. Then, every day or two, add a subject. Do one thing well, then try another. These are not normal times, so take it slow and be gentle with yourselves and each other.

11. Prioritize relationships.

MA: Children need structure and freedom, expectations and acceptance. Whether we homeschool or not, our children rely on us to cultivate an atmosphere where they can learn and grow, secure in our commitment to who they are and who they can become. Perhaps this awful situation is also an opportunity, and our families can come out the other side of this experience even stronger.

12. Remember we are in the middle of a public health crisis. We are not in the middle of an academic crisis.

JS: Be gentle with your children and yourself. Stressed adults cannot teach stressed kids. When things get frustrating, walk away. As parents, we are the heart of our family. We set the tone—we’re the family thermostat, if you will. Our kids look to us for safety, security, and love. No one knows how things are going to play out during these uncertain times. As parents, it is our job to cultivate beauty where we can and provide a calm, stable home. A haven. But make no mistake, in the coming months, there will be bickering. Eye rolling. Opposition. Tantrums. Meltdowns. (And that’s just the parents!)

This has been the longest—checks calendar—three days, said every parent everywhere.

As we all adjust to our new normal (working from home and homeschooling), it’s okay if we are not thriving at both. It takes time.

Thanks to social media, I have seen everything from a friend who has created a virtual school in her home (with a school motto, strict schedule, and desk) to those who are like, “how do I log onto Schoology?” I’m somewhere in the middle.

I know in my gut this “Coronoa-cation” will stretch beyond the two weeks, so I’ve allowed my kids a slow ease into this new mindset. As a friend reminded me, this is a loss and adjustment for them, too.

Sure, the thought of unlimited video games (we’re not quite there yet) and late bedtimes (we are there) sounds appealing, but I know they are missing their friends, routines, teachers, and classes.

It’s okay to feel sad for them even though we know it’s for the greater good. It’s okay to be angry that the school play is probably canceled, as well as the spring concerts (which I had won front row tickets for at a school fundraiser!) and the annual amazing art show, and the pool party for fifth grade graduation. They might sound insignificant, but they create a childhood, a memory block.

I woke up this morning realizing my daughter’s IEP evaluation, pre-middle school, which we carefully orchestrated, isn’t happening. Twelfth graders won’t get to go to prom or be named valedictorian. Life is canceled.

For my kids, that means no soccer, lacrosse, Lego club, and green team. Just last week, as my other kids roller-skated around our elementary school, my son, Zeke, was giving me the rundown on what every third grader does at recess. So and so always plays soccer. These kids always go on the slides. Zeke named the friends that “run a sushi restaurant.” “I’m the manager,” he told me. And just like that…there’s no more school. No more play dates. No more playgrounds.

So what are we doing to stay sane? Well, here are a few resources I have found helpful as I navigate this new world with my four kids.

Make a Schedule That Works for You

If you want a daily schedule, make one. Zeke insisted on writing one up yesterday. (I talked him down from two hours of math.) Dismissal is from “3:33 p.m. until the next morning.” His twin, Gideon was like, “Nah. I don’t need a schedule.” Do what works best for your family. So far we’ve been doing a little bit of schoolwork in the morning and then a family hike/walk in the afternoon.

Get Outside

Right now we are able to leave our homes, so we have been taking long walks. Some favorites: Lake Roland, Double Rock Park Trail, NCR Trail (great for biking, too), hikes around Oregon Ridge Nature Center, and Cascade Falls Trail at Patapsco Valley State Park. Yesterday we ended up in Daniels, Maryland, straddling the Patapsco River.

There are some abandoned (read: haunted) buildings and a beautiful waterfall. The main lot was filled, so I ended up at a secondary lot, which in retrospect was probably not the secondary lot I was looking for. We ended up walking on train tracks for a mile or two before finding the area we were looking for. We used saw animal bones on the track, found old railroad nails, and conquered a few fears. It felt lesson-ish.

Take Advantage of Virtual Resources

The Internet is your friend. I have seen and saved countless posts, from virtual field trips to “15 Broadway Plays and Musicals You Can Watch On Stage From Home” to #OperationStoryTime, in which beloved children’s authors are reading stories and posting to Facebook, YouTube, and Instagram. And thanks to Cool Progeny—another amazing resource—I heard about Mo Willems offering a daily Lunch Doodle, in conjunction with the Kennedy Center for Performing Arts, through the end of the month.

Locally, Ashley Battersby, a math resource teacher in Baltimore County (and full-disclosure, a favorite babysitter of ours) has been posting videos of her reading math picture books, sharing a math game, or teaching math strategy on her YouTube channel. Additionally, Trevor Twist, artist and owner of Mitchell School of Fine Arts in Mt. Washington’s Coppermine Fieldhouse, is offering his youth art classes via virtual Zoom meetings for the time being.

Also, local libraries are offering digital options such as e-books for kids, movies, and e-magazines. (If you don’t have a library card you can sign up for an e-card in Baltimore County and Baltimore City.)

I have a few friends that home school and they have also been posting resources. This is one of the best ones I’ve seen. It’s literally hundreds of free educational resources including space stuff, math and reading games, SAT prep, foreign language lessons, and even Carmen Sandiego (glad to see she is still around) stories and videos.

Ask a Teacher

Our wonderful teachers have all made themselves available over our classroom app and email to answer questions and offer resources. I have also seen countless teacher friends posting that they are accessible for Facebook questions or guidance offline. It lists their area of expertise and areas they can help. (And can we just take a minute to acknowledge how amazing teachers are.)

Most importantly, be kind to yourself. We are all doing the best we can. (Completely unrelated: Are liquor stores still open?)

I recently realized that my husband never saw where I grew up. So, together, we drove up to White Hall, taking the scenic route up York Road, and once Sparks was in our rearview mirror, he began to marvel at the rolling hills and beautiful farmhouses. We turned right onto Monkton Road, and then northeast onto Big Falls, and Rob wondered aloud how long the commute must have been to my high school in Towson. Still 10 minutes out, the lines in the road disappeared (along with our service), and he started to panic: “Megan, did the state government even know where you lived?”

Sure, we were far out, but my father wanted to fulfill his lifelong goal of owning a farm. Not one that we farmed, mind you, but a farm nonetheless. It was magical and fun and approximately three light years away from my academic and social lives. Growing up, my seven siblings and I spent our time moderately unsupervised, roaming the land by foot and four-wheeler. We’d hike through the woods, hide in the corn fields, and shoot each other with paintballs. Afternoons were spent helping our dad build bonfires so high they required us to stand on the hutch of a pickup truck for the final tier, and we screamed in delight when it was finally lit, exploding into the night with the help of a little gasoline.

I remember being duct-taped into a white suit and sent up in a cherry picker alongside a beekeeper to assist her in removing hives from the eaves of our house, and I spent many nights sleeping on the soft rubber cover to our pool, treating it like a hillbilly waterbed. It was a wonderful, sometimes dangerous, absolutely unique way to grow up. It was also, I would come to find, not for me.

My disdain for country life began late in high school, when I started keeping a bag of essentials in my car for weeknight sleepovers at friends’ houses. Yes, the country was idyllic, but I wanted very much to just be closer to civilization, and not have to factor a 50-minute commute into my schedule. Towson gave me a taste of city life, where I got see a glimpse of the hustle and bustle and create an exciting social life—and I craved more.

As a result, I’m the odd city mouse (or black sheep, if you’d prefer a rural metaphor) of my family, who almost exclusively continue to live far from the city limits. As it turns out, I’m not alone. As people my age continue to turn away from these comforts and rear their children downtown, it raises the question: Why do people some people yearn for city life? Is the desire to live in the city encoded in our DNA, or do we pick it up as we go along?

Yes, the country life was idyllic, but I wanted very much to be closer to civilization.

As much as I’m a champion for Baltimore, let’s get some hard truths out of the way. According to recent census figures, Baltimore City lost 7,346 people, or 1.2 percent of its population, from July 2017-July 2018. That decline is the biggest the city has experienced since 2001 and also marks the fourth year in a row in which its population has fallen.

If these numbers are enough to make you run for the Baltimore County hills, consider the fact that there are still many millennials and empty-nesters opting for city life. And of these millennials, some of us—gasp—are even choosing to stay once our kids are born.

“We say residents have an ‘urban gene’,” says Annie Milli, the executive director of Live Baltimore, who cites an American Community Survey that found from 2010-2017, nearly 14,000 people between 25-34, and just over 10,000 between 65-74, became residents of Baltimore City. “Maybe they feel tougher, or less phased, by the imperfections of the city. For others, it’s rooted in a connection to arts and culture, or a desire to tap into their open-mindedness in a diverse setting.”

That’s all well and good—and very true, of course—but when you have a young family, moving out of the city has some real practical benefits that you just can’t ignore. Of course, one of the biggest motivating factors is the breadth of education options in the surrounding counties. Not to mention, cheaper property taxes, easy and free parking, a private lawn, and less noise and congestion.

So why do some of us remain stubborn and work around these hurdles to settle in a busy metropolis? As it turns out, this craving for city life can be explained on an even deeper level. Sociologically, homo sapiens have become conditioned to an urban lifestyle.

“Humans evolved to live optimally in large groups of 30 to 60 people,” says Daniel Swann, a visiting associate professor in Goucher College’s Sociology and Anthropology Department. “That is about the number of people an individual can look out for and care about, and so you see tighter-knit communities in small city neighborhoods over sprawling suburban ones.”

That mindset is what brought Magda Mydlo-Garcia and Raul Garcia Leal to Mt. Vernon. Mydlo-Garcia grew up in a city in northeast Poland, and her husband was raised in Monterrey, Mexico, a city with more than 1.2 million residents. After stints around the world and birth of their son, Axel, the family moved here for her work. They were initially in a bit of a geographical Goldilocks situation (Fells Point was too loud; Harford County too homogenized). But they found that Mt. Vernon, so far, is just right.

“After moving to the U.S., we settled in the suburbs, which was very different from any experience we had previously,” Mydlo-Garcia says. “We quickly realized that we couldn’t move without a car, the cultural scene is basically non-existent, and architecturally there were cookie-cutter houses everywhere. For us, it was a real culture shock. Moving to the city brought us back to the lifestyle that we missed and enjoyed so much.”

The same goes for Kate Diehn, a physician who works in Hunt Valley but chooses to live in Wyman Park with her husband, James, and son, Henry. She points out that, while many of her friends have fled to the suburbs, she feels like her family has the best of both worlds with green spaces, walkability, and a smaller townhouse that’s great for meeting new people. “Living in a rowhome gives you the opportunity to get to know so many of your neighbors,” Diehn says. “Plus, we’re able to walk to The Avenue, The Rotunda, Hopkins’ campus, and Charles Village. It’s nice being a two-block walk home from dinner when toddler-mania sets in.”

“Moving to the city brought us back to the lifestyle that we enjoyed so much.”

Diehn does mention noise and crime as obvious drawbacks to city living, and Mydlo-Garcia wishes their son had more space closer to ride his bike or play. But the diversity and access to great restaurants, cultural institutions, and close proximity to Axel’s school win out. And as you may have guessed, I’m with her. My annoying high-school commute certainly contributed to my draw to civilization. But I also love that my toddlers walk almost everywhere they go, seeing neighbors, shop owners, and friends along the way. I’m proud that my son can point out which building I work in, and I think it’s so cool that our typical weekend wandering our neighborhood exposes our kids to art, international food, and ethnic diversity.

“We are so fortunate to have very warm neighbors of all different ages and backgrounds that say hi to Henry as he walks by,” Diehn says. “He is in such an important development stage during which we are trying to expose him to as many different experiences as possible.”

Though most of my family is confused by my unnatural love for city life, I was surprised to find out that my brother Robby is now giving it a whirl. He and his fiancée, Julia Elliot, shocked and delighted me when they bought a home just over the city line in Lake Walker.

Their home was initially meant to be lived in just long enough to update it into an income property, but the city, as it turns out, was able to sink its claws into more than one Isennock sibling. Undoing everything I thought I knew, on a recent phone call, he chatted happily about where he lives, and how they just got back from enjoying a glass of wine with some neighbors a few doors down. “We’ve made really good friends here, and everything is so close,” he said. This, coming from the man who used to double-park his pickup truck outside my house because my neighborhood “made him claustrophobic” and he needed to know he could leave when he wanted.

That neighborly bond my brother and his wife have experienced is a common reason for people to stay put in the city for a little longer, if not forever—especially in one like Baltimore. “Baltimore is a city of small, idiosyncratic neighborhoods,” Swann says. “And while you won’t know everyone in the entire city, you’re likely to know most people in your neighborhood.”

Though it will surprise you to learn I don’t have “PhD” after my name like Professor Swann, as a 13-year city veteran, I concur. One of the best things about our life here is the people. Or, maybe it’s more accurate to say, the proximity to people. Many close friends live within blocks of us, and our social circle has continued to grow more diverse and meaningful. Just last week, another mom with a toddler walked by my front door as I was walking in, and within minutes we’d exchanged numbers and made plans.

This urban life we’ve created is a choice we’ve been lucky enough to make, and one I hope our kids appreciate. While they won’t grow up off the grid (given the taxes we pay, I’m pretty sure the government is well aware of our existence) with bonfires and corn fields, they’ll have Afghan food and world-class museums and an inclusive community—
all right outside our front door.

Fireworks aren’t the only thing to look forward to for Independence Day. Baltimore is full of events to keep the red, white, and blue spirit going all day long. From cruises to pet parades, there is no shortage of things to do in the city to show your patriotic pride. Whether you’re looking for a full day’s worth of star-spangled fun or a dinner on the water, we’ve got you covered.

FOOD

Topside
Celebrate Independence Day by chowing down on a BBQ-inspired menu, featuring ancho BBQ ribs, housemade sausage, smoked brisket, corn pudding, broccoli salad, and cornbread. Although the Mt. Vernon restaurant doesn’t provide a front row view of the fireworks in the Inner Harbor, Topside does offer panoramic views of the Washington Monument—and what’s more patriotic than that?

Summer in the Squares
Listen to live music while enjoying a summer picnic in the west square of Mount Vernon Place. Enjoy refreshments in by the picturesque fountain and celebrate Independence Day with two Baltimore-based ensembles: Ghost Sugar and Brandon Woody’s Upendo. To give you time to get to your favorite fireworks, the performance will begin in the early evening. 6 p.m.

Independence Day Deck Party
Climb aboard the U.S.S. Constellation and watch the Inner Harbor fireworks show from the deck of the historic ship. Along with a top-notch view, take advantage of all-you-can-eat barbecue favorites, special boat tours, and even cannon firings. 7-10 p.m. Free- $75.

Fourth of July Fireworks Dinner
Take a three-hour cruise with incredible views of Baltimore’s fireworks show while indulging in a three-course buffet style dinner. Enjoy an open bar, DJ, dance floor, and games. All guests must be 21 or older. 7:30-10:30 p.m. $124.90+.

FESTIVITIES

Towson Four on the 4th
Start the holiday off on the right foot with a four-mile race through the heart of Towson, beginning at the courthouse and winding through Towson University’s campus. If that distance is too daunting, participate in the 1776 (feet) Family Fun Run at 8:30 a.m. and then stick around for the annual parade. 8:15 a.m. $35- 40.

Visionary Pets on Parade
What could be better than a dog dressed in red, white, and blue garb? Try hundreds of pets of all shapes and sizes competing for costume prizes such as most visionary, owner and pet lookalikes, and most patriotic. Watch in awe as local pets parade around the American Visionary Art Museum and compete in a talent show. 9 a.m. Free.

Red, White & Zoo
Spend the Fourth of July with the biggest party animals around at The Maryland Zoo. Watch as the animals receive special holiday treats, including “fishsicles,” and papier-mache toys. A team of zookeepers will educate guests on the importance of enrichment activities for the zoo’s inhabitants. 10 a.m. – 4 p.m. $17.99-25.99.

Hanover Street Gallery
Experience the opening celebration of Reframing Pathways, a diverse collection of artwork showcased on the Hanover Street Bridge facade. The Hanover Street Bridge will be transformed into a gallery with the heart of the works highlighting different art-making perspectives from pattern and design to more representational works. 1-9 p.m.

FIREWORKS

Cherry Hill Arts & Music Waterfront Celebration
Celebrate the cultural vibrancy of this South Baltimore neighborhood with live performances, local food trucks, artistic activities, and a fireworks show. Don’t miss seeing Abu the Flutemaker and the organization Safe Streets Cherry Hill receive honors for its commitment to the community. 1-10 p.m. Free.

South Point
South Point, a pop-up outdoor seasonal space, will be open early for first-come-first-served seating areas to bask in the rockets’ red glare. Throughout the day, standard food service will be available and the bar will be open to patrons 21 and older. Stick around for the afterparty starting immediately following the fireworks. 4 p.m.-12 a.m.

Dogfish Head Takes Over at the Sandlot
Join Sandlot and Dogfish Head for Fourth of July at Harbor Point. The Delaware brewery will take over taps and the event features: two live bands, games on the beach, multiple food stations, various draft and can beer stations, and one of the best firework views in town. Expect additional food pop-ups by The Charmery, Blacksauce Kitchen, and The Local Oyster. Food will be available from 4-9p.m. and stick around for fireworks at 9:30 p.m. $5 kids through age 12. $10 cover. $10 event parking.

Independence Day Celebration
Secure a spot on the waterfront lawn of the Baltimore Museum of Industry for a picture-perfect view of the fireworks over the Inner Harbor. If there’s time before or after the show, take a tour through the Federal Hill museum. Admission is included in the ticket price. 6-10 p.m. $65.

Picnic at the Top
Climb to the highest floor of the World Trade Center to enjoy a Picnic at the Top. Visitors can take in a 360-degree view of Baltimore and festive fireworks from 27 floors above the Inner Harbor. The event offers catered food and beverages, children’s activities, a live DJ, and photo booth. This is a non-alcoholic, family-fun event, and doors open at 7:15 p.m. 7:30-10 p.m. $35-$75.

I ripped open the mustard-colored, legal-size envelope. I could tell by the handwriting, it was from my father. The only other time he had sent me a letter was when I was a child at sleep-away camp. A note, paper-clipped to a handful of legal documents, read, “put these in a safe place.” There were: Health Care Directives, Living Wills, Durable Powers of Attorney, and Trust Agreements—reminders of my parents’ mortality. One by one, I skimmed the legalese. When I saw my name, I paused. My parents had appointed me their Power of Attorney, to make their life and death decisions. It made sense, I am the eldest child and an attorney. Even so, I felt anointed. Now, a decade later, the power is paralyzing.

My father passed away from a heart attack three years ago. He and my mother had been married for 63 years. My mother crumbled. She spent most of the following year in bed and her muscles atrophied. She developed Parkinson’s disease and dementia. Now, at age 85, she wears a diaper underneath her black pull-up slacks and she’s confined to a wheelchair. She cannot wipe her runny nose, plop a piece of chocolate into her mouth, nor wrap a shawl around her cold shoulders. She lives in a senior living community in South Florida, near my brother and sister. A team of caretakers provides her with round-the-clock care.

Late in the summer, my sister came to visit me in Baltimore. We were at dinner and had just ordered wine, when my cell phone rang.

“Mrs. Black?”

“Yes”

“This is your mother’s aide. Please don’t worry. But your mother’s been lethargic and has stopped eating—I erred on caution and called her doctor. He said to call an ambulance. We’re at the hospital now. I will keep you posted.”

Soon after, my mother’s doctor called me. He had conferred with the emergency room physician. They suspected that my mother had a bowel blockage and admitted her for testing and observation. If their suspicions were confirmed, she’d have surgery in the morning. Between tears and fears, my sister and I spent the rest of dinner searching for flights to Miami. There weren’t any flights that night, so we booked the first plane out the next morning.

When we arrived at the hospital, my mother was out of surgery and stable. But our relief was short-lived. Mom developed multiple infections and complications—her kidneys began to shut down. Each morning, I would drive from my hotel to the hospital, hoping that my mother’s kidneys had reversed their decline. Creatinine, a word I’d never heard of before her hospitalization, became a part of my daily vocabulary. It is an indicator of kidney function. My mother’s normal level was 0.5; it was now 3.6

A parade of “ologists” consulted on her case: urologists, cardiologists, nephrologists, neurologists, and others. None of them were optimistic. Eventually, her doctor took me aside and said, “We need to talk.” He ushered me down the hall and into a legal-pad colored room, just big enough to hold a two-seat sofa, an arm chair, and a wooden table. It smelled like antiseptics. I sat on the sofa, he sat across from me in the arm chair.

In a matter-of-fact voice he said, “Are you her power of attorney?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we can’t find a DNR, (do not resuscitate). You need to sign one. I’m sorry, but there is not much more we can do for your mother. Her kidneys are failing—it doesn’t look good.”

“There’s nothing you can do?”

“She’s 85 years old. She is not a candidate for dialysis. If she shuts down, it would be cruel to insert a feeding tube or keep her alive with artificial means.”

He handed me a yellow paper to sign, in large caps it read, “DO NOT RESUSCITATE.” I held it away from me, as if it were my dog’s newly filled poop bag.

“Okay, let me talk with my family. I’ll get back to you in the morning.”

“I understand. And, if it’s alright, I’ll have someone from hospice get in touch with you.”

I am not good at making irreversible decisions—I struggled with neutering my dog. I didn’t want to sign the DNR, nor agree to hospice. I did not want to play a role in my mother’s death.

I went back to her hospital room. I kissed her and said, “I love you. I’ll be back tomorrow.” Then, I drove to my hotel room to reread those documents from that mustard colored envelope that my father had sent years ago. They were now downloaded onto my iPhone. This time, I read them as if my mother’s life was at stake. The boilerplate language said:

“If at any time I am incapacitated, and I have an end-stage condition . . . and no reasonable medical probability of recovery . . . I direct that life prolonging procedures be withheld . . . ”

Initially, I thought I was off the hook—her directives were clear. It was my job to execute, not to decide. But then, in less time than it takes for my nail polish to dry, I thought back to all the papers my businessman father had asked my mother to sign over the years. She never read them. He said, “Sign.” She said, “Where?”

I also thought about my mother’s fear of dying: If she sneezed in the morning, she called her doctor by afternoon. She made an appointment for her flu shot, before the vaccine was released. She wouldn’t allow us to visit her if we had a cold. A headache was indicative of a brain tumor. Her favorite hand lotion was Purell.

Would she want to fight now?

In the past, I had tried to talk to my mother about her wishes. She never said, “Let me die, naturally.” I pushed her, trying to avoid this very situation, “Mom, if the only way to live is with a feeding tube down your nose or in your stomach, do you want that?”

“Okay, fine. Do whatever you want. I’m not talking about it anymore.”

Knowing that I had to get back to the doctor by morning, I stayed up most of that night talking with my family. Everyone agreed that Mom no longer had quality of life. Artificial interventions were more for us than for her. It was selfish to cause her more pain. If she died, who were we to play God and revive her? Fear of dying is not the same as choosing life.

The next morning, I went to the hospital with the signed, yellow DNR. But the decision was no longer in my hands. Mom’s creatinine levels had dropped—her kidneys were improving. The potent antibiotics prescribed for her infections may have harmed her kidneys. The nephrologist changed medicines and she responded. Mom continued to progress and by the end of the week, after a month of hospitalization, they sent her home.

My siblings and I met with the hospice people before her discharge. They educated us and made us question whether, given my mother’s age and condition, it was fair to put her through any more hospitalizations. They could help enhance her quality of life. If we changed our minds, we could withdraw their services.

That was five months ago. Mom’s kidneys have stabilized, though her Parkinson’s has progressed. While oftentimes she’s miserable, there are still sparkles of joy. She enjoys TV shows like America’s Got Talent and Dancing with the Stars. She smiles when I visit—especially when I bring sesame-covered bagels. She insists that her jewelry matches her outfits. And she loves to sing.

I’ve played and replayed a video that my sister texted me last week. It’s of a hospice volunteer, strumming her guitar while singing to my mother, “Oh what a beautiful morning, oh what a beautiful day.” Mom cocks her head to listen. Her eyes twinkle with recognition. She joins in, “I got a beautiful feeling, everything’s going my way.”

If I look at the video too closely, I can’t help but spot the emergency notebook lying on her kitchen counter. It holds that yellow DNR. My signature is at the bottom.

I remember when I was 8, sitting in the back seat of my father’s Ford station wagon as he drove my grandma, my mother’s mother, to the airport for her flight back from our home in Miami to her tenement in New York. Not five minutes into the trip, he belted out, “Hate to see you go. Hate to see you go. Hope the heck you never come back. Hate to see you go.”

My grandmother turned to me, shrugged her shoulders, and we both chuckled. The same chuckle we shared time and again during a week of my father’s interminable mother-in-law jokes.

“Why do fathers-in-law die before mothers-in-law?”

“Why?”

“Because they want to.”

I knew that my father loved my grandma—yet, he couldn’t resist teasing her. I also knew, that when I grew up, I didn’t want to be a mother-in-law.

Now a half-century later, women hold over 20 percent of the seats in Congress. We are Supreme Court justices, neurosurgeons, astronauts, and CEOs. We climb elusive ladders, struggle with high-stress careers, and manage high-stress children. We advocate for social justice, insist on equality, and demand respect. We refuse to take a back seat to anyone—unless, of course, it’s our daughter-in-law.

Because, we’re afraid of her.

When our son slides that ring (the one we helped select and perhaps paid for) on his beloved’s finger, power seeps through the metal. Later, if the couple has children, that power has potential to punish.

A friend of mine confided, “My daughter-in-law asked me to watch the kids next Friday. I told her I couldn’t because I had a doctor appointment.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“It was a lie. I didn’t want to admit I was going to yoga.”

I understood. With self-righteous retribution, her daughter-in-law could veto a family dinner, renege on Sunday brunch, or worse—withhold the grandchildren.

It’s time for mother-in-law empowerment.

But, before we can wiggle our way into a mutually respectable relationship, we must look at our own behavior. Have we unwittingly fed the stereotype? Do we attempt to usurp our daughter-in-law’s judgment for our own? A simple, “Are you wearing that to dinner, dear?” is enough to poke the bias. A well-intended, “Don’t you think you allow the kids too much screen time?” can unravel the relationship.

Even if we give no cause for distance, our daughters-in-law may have their own reasons for keeping us at arm’s length. Some may think it’s disloyal to their own mothers if they cozy up to us. It’s not. Others think we’re in competition for first place with their husbands. We’re not—they’ve already won. We just want involved spectator status. A few are too insecure to share their families with us. It’s our job to help them to feel safe.

I have two daughters-in-law. (And a son-in-law to be.) I admit, when I first met them, I tried to swallow my words and blend into the background. That didn’t last long—I leaked through the façade. And, I’m glad.

I offered a relationship based on authenticity and equality. And they accepted. Neither of them marginalizes my self-worth, nor I theirs. But, like desserts at lunch time, I try to exercise restraint and refrain from meddling or judging. Together, we spurned that archaic stereotype. And, hopefully, modeled appropriate behaviors for the next generation.

My childhood fear of mother-in-law bias never materialized.

At my daughters-in-law’s weddings, I did not “wear beige nor keep my mouth shut.” Rather, with their approval, I wore navy to one and black to the other. Not because I was contrarian, but because dark colors are slenderizing.

The drive of Joe Flacco’s life didn’t begin in hostile Heinz Field or even in a stadium. It
originated in the predawn hours of June 13 at his home in Owings Mills
following a phone call from his wife, Dana, and concluded 135 minutes
later in a hospital room in Voorhees, NJ.

“At a quarter to five in
the morning she called me and was like, ‘I haven’t gotten any sleep all
night, I’ve been debating calling you for two hours. I think it’s
time,’” he says six weeks later, at ease on a couch in an office at the
Ravens’ Under Armour Performance Center. “So I was like, ‘Call your mom
up, call your doctor, see what they say.’ They told her, ‘Take your time
but come in.’ She got in around 6:30 and they told her, ‘It’s time,
you’re staying.’”

Flacco was excused from practice, jumped into
his Ford F-150 and raced up I-95. “I left here at like 6:45 in the
morning and got up there around 9.”

The NFL’s most-successful-yet-still-curiously-maligned quarterback was determined to witness the birth of his first child.

“Everybody
was [asking] me, ‘Are you gonna look? You don’t want to do that,’” he
says. “I was like, ‘I’m definitely looking.’ I was right there on the
side of the bed, I watched the whole entire thing, from the time when
you could barely see his head to the time he was out. It was pretty cool
to see him come out.”

A slight smile creeps onto Flacco’s face as
he recounts the day, his most momentous one in a year filled with them.
Throughout a season that included a scintillating comeback in
Pittsburgh and a heartbreaking playoff loss in New England, criticism
from within the organization and a media-driven “controversy” fueled by
his candor—not to mention, contract negotiations that seemingly devolved
from complicated to contentious—Flacco’s public demeanor remained
unchanged.

It’s all white noise to the impossibly even-keeled QB,
who thrives on the steadiness that so maddens fans who mistake it for
stoicism.

“We taught him never let anybody see you sweat,” says
his father, Steve, for whom Joe and his high-school sweetheart Dana
named their son Stephen. It’s a lesson Flacco, 27, has leaned on
throughout his unlikely career, one that’s won him an unprecedented
number of football games but no popularity contests.

“My dad’s my
best friend,” he says. “The biggest thing he preached was being tough. I
think a tough guy doesn’t really show many emotions. Not to say that I
don’t have emotion, because that’s not true. But when things are going
bad, as a leader, you can’t act like anything is wrong. You go out there
and take each snap like it’s the same, no matter what the score is, no
matter what happened on the last play. It’s just the way I was brought
up, it’s the way my parents are. You definitely end up more like them
than you admit.”

“Until I got here, they hadn’t won a playoff game since the Super Bowl year. Every year we’ve won a playoff game. It’s not what we want to do overall, but we’ve had very good seasons.”

If that’s true—and most of us eventually concede
that it is—then, throughout his life, little Stephen Flacco, like his
daddy, will cherish two things above all others: family and football.

Of
the NFL’s 32 starting quarterbacks, Joe Flacco may be the only one
who’s been ribbed his entire life for having a big head—literally.

“His head was always humungous for his body,” says his brother, Mike, a baseball player in the Orioles minor-league system.

“They
call him the Kingdome, the Superdome,” his father says. “When he was a
sophomore in high school he was six-four, 165 pounds with a size 7 ½
head.”

The oldest of five boys and a girl, Joe seldom got into
trouble throughout his childhood in Audubon, NJ, a suburb of
Philadelphia.

“He was very responsible,” his mother, Karen, says. “He was known as Father Joe.”

Baseball
was Flacco’s sport of choice until seventh grade when Steve, a former
running back at the University of Pennsylvania, allowed him to try
football.

“Because I started so late, by the time I got there,
they already had kids who had been playing quarterback, so I played
running back, tight end, receiver,” Flacco says. “I always had a knack
for throwing the ball. I can’t remember a time when we didn’t go out and
mess around and play football as much as we could. I always had a
pretty good arm, so I knew I wanted to play quarterback.”

In high
school, Flacco shot up to over six feet, the first in the family to
eclipse the mark. His father is 5-feet-11-inches, his mother 5-feet-6.
Despite putting up gaudy numbers—he once threw for more than 450 yards
and three touchdowns and ran for two more in a 67-35 loss—Flacco
received only a smattering of scholarship offers. He accepted one to the
University of Pittsburgh.

After redshirting his freshman year and
serving as a backup his sophomore season, Flacco transferred to the
University of Delaware, much to Pitt’s chagrin, where he figured he’d
have a better chance to play, even if it wasn’t in the spotlight of
Division I-A. “Joe is a tremendously gifted athlete,” Delaware coach
K.C. Keeler says. “He’s just got a world of talent, and you could see
that very quickly when he got here.”

Because Pitt was upset that
Flacco transferred, the school chose not to release him, forcing him to
sit out a season. When he got a chance on the field, Flacco led Delaware
to the Division I-AA national title game his senior year, smashing
school records in the process. NFL scouts started showing up in droves.

“I
remember Joe calling me during the whole draft process, and he was a
little upset because [Ravens general manager] Ozzie Newsome had called
two or three times and had asked why he wasn’t a captain,” Keeler says.
“It was one of those strange years where we had a consensus All-American
tailback, who was a four-year starter for us, and we had an
All-American offensive lineman. Those two guys were voted the offensive
captains.

“But the team was Joe’s. He said, ‘Can someone tell
those guys with the Ravens that this was my team?’ The best thing I said
was this team took on Joe’s personality; it never ever panicked. It
played with a steady belief in itself. It never got too high or too
low.”
Apparently, Newsome was convinced.

Baltimore took Flacco
in the first round of the 2008 draft, making him only the second
Division I-AA quarterback in history drafted that high. When the season
started, Flacco was under center.

“Obviously I didn’t know as
much as I know now, but I think the biggest thing for me as a young kid
was to calm my mind down and say, ‘Hey, it’s football, go out and
play,’” he says. “When I was a rookie, I didn’t want to come in here and
step on people’s toes and act like I was some big deal. I felt like I
had to prove myself.”

Flacco and a fellow rookie, head coach John
Harbaugh, led the Ravens to the AFC Championship game, and both were
praised for exhibiting poise beyond their years. Yet, as the victories
kept coming—Flacco’s 44 regular season wins are the most by a starting
quarterback in his first four years in the NFL—his reputation morphed
from a stable leader to a “game manager” incapable of using his arm to
lead the defensively-strong and run-oriented Ravens to victory.

“I don’t think there’s any other quarterback besides Aaron Rodgers that can throw the ball the way that he can.”

“Sometimes
I think people perceive [the team] a certain way just because that’s
what we’ve been over the last 10 years,” he says. “Well, you know what?
Until I got here, until John Harbaugh got here, they hadn’t won a
playoff game since the Super Bowl year. Every year we’ve been here we’ve
won a playoff game. It’s not what we want to do overall, but we’ve had
very good seasons.”

None better than last, when Baltimore swept
the Steelers, won the AFC North division and came within one late
dropped pass of making it to the Super Bowl. Yet Flacco’s play still was
criticized. After a playoff win against Houston in which Flacco put up
pedestrian numbers, Ravens safety Ed Reed said it didn’t appear his
quarterback “had a hold on the offense.”

Flacco nonchalantly brushed aside the comment and proceeded to outplay Patriots legend Tom Brady the next week.

In April, Flacco appeared on local sports radio station WNST and was asked if he considered himself a top-five quarterback.

“Without
a doubt,” he responded. “What do you expect me to say? I assume
everybody thinks they’re a top-five quarterback. I mean, I think I’m the
best. I don’t think I’m top five, I think I’m the best. I don’t think
I’d be very successful at my job if I didn’t feel that way. I mean, come
on.”

Hardly a shocking answer, yet one that created a firestorm.
Anti-Flaccoites rolled their eyes, noting that his 2011 QB rating was
14th (out of 34 players). Of the more than 95,000 votes in a
SportsNation online poll, 61 percent indicated Flacco was not an “elite”
quarterback. Whatever that means.

“Joe doesn’t play games, he’s
going to tell you honestly how he feels,” Delaware coach Keeler says.
“It’s not like, ‘Okay, what would sound best in a sound bite?’ It’s not
that he’s not savvy—he is as smart as the day is long—but he’s not going
to compromise his belief system. [His attitude is] I know you’re going
to take the sound bite and use it however you want, but I’m not going to
change who I am. Like it or leave it, this is who I am.”

Perhaps
Flacco’s quiet disposition contributes to the way he is perceived. Fans
screaming at their TVs like to see similar outward emotion from their
heroes.

“Unless you are in the locker room or you know me, it’s
tough to get a read from me because I’m not a very outgoing person,” he
says. “I’m not really vocal in the way a rah-rah kind of guy is. I don’t
think [leadership] is when things are going bad let’s go yell at
somebody and get them fired up. I think we’re a bunch of professionals.
If we’re not fired up, something’s wrong. A pep talk ain’t gonna do
anything for anybody. Pregame speeches on Saturday night, I don’t think
they do anything, so I’m not gonna do them. When it all comes down to
it, we all have to have a little bit of self-motivation, and when Sunday
comes, we have to be able to turn the switch on. If we can’t do that,
we shouldn’t be professional football players.”

Matt Birk,
Flacco’s center for three years, sees Joe’s stoicism as an advantage.
“Joe’s always been Joe,” he says. “Joe might be a little bit quieter,
but, at the same time, when Joe does speak up, he’s doing it because he
has something to say. It’s kind of like the old E.F. Hutton ad: When Joe
talks, people listen.”

Flacco’s record speaks for itself. Since 2008, he has won more games than any quarterback in the league.

Phil
Simms knows a little something about winning. He earned two Super Bowl
rings quarterbacking the New York Giants, and is CBS Sports’ lead NFL
color commentator.

“If you put Joe Flacco in a quarterback-driven
offense with a franchise and a head coach and an owner . . . who’s
behind him, he would throw up numbers that are [impressive] just like
all these other guys,” he told SiriusXM NFL Radio in July. “But he’s not
on that type of team, he’s not [with] that type of head coach. What he
does with that organization for that football team, I think, is as good
as anybody else in the league.”

Rob Agnone played with Flacco at
both Pitt and Delaware. He spent a season with the Patriots, which makes
his analysis of Flacco that much more striking.

“He has more
natural God-given talent than any of the quarterbacks I’ve played with.
It’s not even close,” he says. “Tom Brady is by far the best quarterback
in the NFL, there’s no doubt about it, but just going off God-given
talent, arm strength, accuracy, I feel Joe has more ability than him. He
hasn’t proven it with [big] wins, and I think Joe would tell you the
same thing. He’s got to win the Super Bowl to be in that level, but he
has the talent to do it.”

Ravens wide receiver Anquan Boldin, who played with future Hall of Fame quarterback Kurt Warner in Arizona, agrees.

“I
don’t think there’s any other quarterback besides Aaron Rodgers that
can throw the ball the way that he can,” he says. “He can make any throw
on the football field, from hash to sidelines, deep balls, you name it.
I definitely think he’s a top five quarterback. But he don’t care about
all that.”

Flacco is uninterested in the debate. His confidence
is iron-clad, his skin thick. He claims not to watch ESPN, instead
preferring to keep up with the Kardashians or other reality shows with
Dana.

“I don’t care how much respect I’m getting in the media, as
long as I feel like the people in this building respect me, then I’m
cool,” he says. “If it ever came to a point where I didn’t feel that
way, that’s when I’d feel a little bit hurt.”

“We all, at some point, started to play this game because it was fun. We lose track of that.”

Maybe 2012 will be
Flacco’s breakout year. The Ravens are using a more wide-open offense;
his first pass of the season was a beautiful 52-yard bomb to Torrey
Smith. Could that have been a harbinger of things to come, or is Flacco
destined to be remembered as Trent Dilfer is, a quarterback the Ravens
won in spite of?

“If that’s what people say, that’s what people
will say, it doesn’t mean it’s the truth,” he says defiantly yet not
angrily. “I hope we throw for 5,000 yards and win the Super Bowl. I
don’t want to be throwing for 150 yards a game and winning. I’ll take
it, but I feel that I give us the best chance of winning, doing what I
do best.”

Such is Flacco’s complicated relationship with Baltimore
that when he cancelled his annual appearance at the Special Olympics’
Polar Bear Plunge just a few days after the New England loss to spend
time with his pregnant wife, some actually ripped him apart.

Adam
Hays was not among them. A 28-year-old Special Olympian from Frederick,
Hays has met Flacco several times at events, including a casino-night
fundraiser a few weeks before the Ravens hosted him at training camp
this summer.

“When Joe came by what was really exciting for me was
to hear him say, ‘Nice to see you again.’” says Hays, who wears a
Flacco No. 5 jersey during Ravens games. “He’s very cool, and it seems
like he’s very relaxed. He seems like he’s very kind to everyone that he
comes in contact with. When I look around at my fellow athletes seeing
that Joe and the Ravens take their time out to help show us the skills
in football and just to be with us, it shows that they think of people
with intellectual disabilities as athletes out on the field. It really
means a lot that they see past those barriers.”

Flacco seems
unaware that his mere presence has such an impact on people’s lives. He
politely deflects a question about his work with the Special Olympics,
saying it’s something he enjoys immensely.

“It’s cool to see the
athletes out there having fun,” he says. “We all, at some point, started
to play this game because it was fun. We lose track of that.”

Throughout
his career, he has never lost track of who he is. He’s a father, a
husband, a son, a brother. He’s extremely confident in his athletic
abilities. He’s a winner.

What he’s not is an actor. His work for Pizza Hut makes Ray Rice’s commercial performances look downright De Niro-esque.

“I
feel completely awkward doing that stuff, but, sometimes, it’s too good
to turn down,” he says. “I turn off [my ads] as soon as I see them. If
I’m in the car and I hear my voice on the radio, I turn the station.”

Flacco
recently bought a house in New Jersey a mile from both his parents’ and
Dana’s. His folks attend every home game, and, before Stephen arrived,
the family used to hit a diner afterwards, win or lose. He’s so
comfortable in his own skin that he describes himself as a “pretty
boring person,” who likes to “play a little golf and hang out with the
family.” Not exactly Tom-and-Gisele tabloid fodder.

“He’s always
here after hours in the building, up by himself watching film, making
sure he knows the defensive looks, making sure he’s got a leg up on the
competition,” says tight end and close friend Dennis Pitta. “Every time I
get here, his car’s in the parking lot, and every time I leave, it’s
still here.”

When he climbs back into the driver’s seat after
another long day, Flacco heads to an ever-growing household. His younger
brother, Brian, and nephew, David, are living with him, Dana, and
Stephen, and it’s a safe bet that the family will expand soon.

“I
can’t imagine not having a good amount of people in the house,” he says,
his voice thick with a South Jersey drawl. “I’m not saying I need six
kids, but I wouldn’t complain if we get to that point.”

Is he a top-five quarterback? Let others waste their time with meaningless lists. Joe Flacco’s got work to do, games to win.

And a family to get home to.

New Year’s Eve is historically a night to class it up, toast champagne, and hopefully snag a kiss at midnight. And, while there’s certainly no shortage of adults-only events in this town, kids always love to get in on the festive fun, too.

This year, you can do it all because there’s tons of daytime action happening that your littles will gladly toot their noise-makers for. So, save the sparkly dresses and hors d’oeuvre for later and check out one of these kid-friendly events on NYE.

Midnight Noon at Maryland Science Center
At this annual New Year’s Eve celebration at the Maryland Science Center, kids can watch the ball drop long before bedtime. The ball drops at 12 noon, but there’s tons of celebrations from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m., like a live concert by the kid’s band Milkshake and tons of science-based play to be had. Plus, all the NYE activities are completely free with your admission, too, so you don’t have to worry about spending a ton to ring the new year in with the kids.

Kiddie Scoop Ball Drop at The Charmery

It’s a Baltimore holiday tradition to celebrate New Year’s at The Charmery. This year, the festivities take place at the ice cream factory’s newest location at Union Collective. The ball drops at 8 p.m. and it wouldn’t be complete without ice cream, shakes, beers, and the tunes of Bon Jovi by cover band Heart n Dagger. Doors open at 6:30, so come, eat, drink, and dance. But most importantly? Get those kids to bed before 2019.

Noontime New Year’s Eve at Port Discovery
The kid-fun is always endless at Port Discovery and New Year’s Eve is no different. Come December 31, there will be tons of celebrating happening all over the museum. With cool crafts, special performances, juggling, live animals, and more, it’s the perfect way for children to ring in the new year. Play and explore all day, but don’t miss the confetti-filled ball drop at noon, complete with a special snack of juice and cookies. It’s also a chance for kids to say goodbye to the KidWorks climbing structures that will soon be replaced in 2019.

Day of Family Bowling at Bowlero

If you’re looking for a little friendly competition, purchase a family bowling package at Bowlero. With two hours of unlimited bowling, champagne for the adults and cider for the kids, knocking down pins is the perfect way to spend a day together—not to mention, it’s both active and affordable. Try to stay out of the gutter and enjoy some quality time together both New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day (packages are available for both).

Skate Late at Pandora Ice Rink
While it’s not on the early side, older kids and parents alike will love to have a late skate at the Inner Harbor rink, which is open until 12:30 a.m. Aside from the skating fun at the gorgeous ice rink, the totally amazing view of the downtown fireworks display is a site to be seen and a pretty good reason to rent some skates (even if you hug the wall the entire time). If you’ve yet to practice your crossovers at the Inner Harbor, the NYE late skate is the perfect opportunity.

Read Your Way Into 2019 at Baltimore County Public Libraries
On New Year’s Eve, little bookworms can visit any one of the Baltimore County Public Library locations to ring in the new year at noon. Count down with some friends and check out some great titles. Because, really, what better way is there to head into a new year than with a whole bag of new books, aka, new adventures?

Tom Flacco is used to it. He’s fielded questions about his brother, the NFL quarterback, since Tom played football in high school five years ago in New Jersey and older brother Joe was already with the Ravens. But there’s still times when the practice aggravates him, like in the press conference that followed Towson University’s win at nationally ranked Villanova earlier this fall.

A reporter from Philadelphia repeatedly asked about Joe Flacco. All Tom wanted to talk about was the team, and how everyone else played. “I don’t give a shit,” he finally said, cutting off the string of questions.

And if you’re wondering how he’s similar or different from his brother that might also show you.

It’s a story. When the younger brother of Baltimore’s Super Bowl winning quarterback shows up to play in the same city, it’s going to get attention.

“It’s a hard position for him to be in, especially in this city, but it’s kind of cool at the same time,” Towson head football coach Rob Ambrose says. Even more, when he’s about to play against older brother’s beloved alma mater, Delaware, on Saturday.

Tom is in his first season as the starting quarterback at Towson. Like Joe, who transferred from NCAA Division I program Pittsburgh to “small school” Delaware in search of more playing time—a move that set him on his path to professional football, and essentially laid the groundwork for this family tale—Tom left Division I Rutgers last summer, after spending the previous two years as a backup at D-I Western Michigan, to transfer to Towson. Like the school his brother attended a short drive up Interstate-95, its football team plays in the Football Championship Subdivision (formerly known as Division I-AA).

Tom, the youngest of the five Flacco brothers, now 23 and already with a degree from Rutgers and pursuing a master’s in applied information technology at Towson, has lit up the scoreboard and stat sheet while leading the Tigers to a 6-1 record and No. 10 national ranking. Tom recently was added to watch list for the Walter Payton Award, given annually to the top offensive player in FCS football, and he just won this third Colonial Athletic Association Offensive Player of the Week award. He’s averaging 280 yards passing per game, has thrown 17 touchdowns and has rushed for 515 yards for four TDs ahead of Saturday’s game at the 21st-ranked Blue Hens.

Tom insists Joe’s presence in Baltimore didn’t influence the decision to transfer to here. “It wasn’t going to deter me from coming here,” Tom said. “And it didn’t make it more attractive.” But there is a logical connection. Towson assistant coach Jared Ambrose (coincidentally, the younger brother of the head coach, Rob), was graduate assistant football coach at Delaware and worked with the offense when Joe was there, reaching the 2007 FCS national championship game. Ambrose told Flacco 2.0, who was then a kid watching in the stands, about the talent on this year’s Towson team, and the potential to play right away.

Another perk? The family dinners now on the weekend are pretty nice. On the Sundays when the Ravens play at home, Tom, who lives on Towson’s northern Baltimore campus, will usually go up to Joe’s house nearby on Sunday nights to eat Italian food and see his four nephews and niece. Their mom, Karen, brings and cooks fresh spaghetti from Severinos Pasta Shop from their native New Jersey. Can we come?

“When I was at Western [Michigan], I would never admit it, but I guess I just admitted it, I missed it,” Tom says. “Now I’m definitely grateful for being around my family.”

Joe’s enjoyed it, too. He attended Towson’s season-opening win at Morgan State in person and has streamed other games on TV or the computer. The two exchange messages about each other’s games. “It’s been cool,” Joe Cool says. “It’s unique that he’s right here. I’ve been waiting to see him play for the last three years.”

If you see them stand next to one another, or sit at the dinner table, you don’t have to be a detective to see that they’re brothers, based on their facial features alone, though Joe’s a bit taller (listed at 6 feet, 6 inches) than the 6-foot Tom. How else are they similar? They share the same last name. Come from a competitive, athletic family. Their other brother, Mike, was drafted by the Orioles in 2009 then played college football as a tight end; and another brother, John, walked on the Stanford football team as a wide receiver. These Flaccos play quarterback. Close your eyes when listening to their quotes, and they sound similar. Tom says they share the same outlook on the life, but that’s largely where the comparisons stop.

“You talk about the relationship with his brother and he has it,” Ambrose said. “But everybody wants to compare the two. He doesn’t want any part of that. Tom’s Tom and Joe’s Joe.”

How they’re different? They’re 10 years apart and, yes, have different personalities. “Joe would probably be the best guy you’ve ever played poker against,” Rob Ambrose said. “He has a poker face in everything he does. Tom is a lot more overtly excitable. Joe’s excitable, you just can’t tell.”

And on the field, “The way I play is different, obviously,” Tom says, “You can see if you watch.” Forget being “Joe Flacco’s brother,”—that’s a good thing—Tom seems more interested in shedding other, more dreaded labels like “athletic,” or “running quarterback.” In football parlance, if you’re a quarterback, that’s usually code for “throwing the ball is not the strongest part of his game.” (At the same time, though, older brother has been dogged through his career for being “immobile,” so sometimes you can’t win.)

“I’m a quarterback that’s athletic, not an athletic person playing quarterback,” says Tom, who was a three-sport star at Eastern High in New Jersey and also was drafted as an outfielder by baseball’s Philadelphia Phillies. He sounds like’s talking straight to NFL scouts. “I can be a quarterback, execute the play and if things break down, I can execute that second play to keep things going.”

“He’s 6-foot, but he probably doesn’t get a lot of credit for some of the things big tall guys do,” Joe says. “He can do a lot of those things . . . He’s a really good player, great athlete, he can really throw the ball. Obviously, he’s my brother so I have some bias.”

Which brings us to the big, timely topic at hand. Asked this week who he was rooting for to win on Saturday—his brother or his alma mater?—Joe said family first.

It’s that perfect time of year in Baltimore. The sun is still shining while the air is turning cool and crisp. And in the evenings when you step outside it always smells like your neighbor’s burning fire pit.

With the change in season comes a bounty of fall fun, too. For families, the autumn happenings are piling up as fast as the mountain of unraked leaves in your yard. But skip the raking (or better yet, make the kids do it) and be sure you don’t miss out on any of these local activities that only come around during this gorgeous time of year.

The Barnyard at Weber’s Cider Mill Farm
Fall is the absolute best time to take a trip to Weber’s Cider Mill Farm. You can grab some delicious donuts and cider while you shop for produce or Halloween decor, but the outdoor barnyard is truly the place to be.

With its haunted house, massive slides, hay maze, and, of course, barnyard animals, kids will want to stay and play all day. Feed the goats, stuff a scarecrow, or hop on a hayride. But whatever you do to pass the time—don’t leave without a pumpkin or five.

Pumpkinfest at Irvine Nature Center
If you’re looking to get in the fall spirit, Irvine Nature Center has all the outdoor fun you can handle. It’s yearly festival which celebrates the offerings of autumn has music, food, magic shows, face painting, and more. You can get crafty painting pumpkins, hop ‘till you drop in a sack race, interact with the animals, or just relax the day away at one of Baltimore’s most scenic spots.

Great Halloween Lantern Parade and Festival in Patterson Park
It’s almost time for one of the city’s best yearly parades, produced by the Creative Alliance and Friends of Patterson Park. It happens on Saturday, October 27, and you can expect things to get spooktacular. This event comes with lanterns and costumes and candy, oh my. The festival starts at 3 p.m. and the parade lines up at 6:30. If you need assistance with your lantern-making, you can head to one of Creative Alliance’s several workshops to make sure your lantern is properly lit.

Pick Pumpkins at Gaver Farm
While it’s a bit of a hike, heading to Gaver Farm in Mount Airy this time of year is worth the trek. The pumpkin patch is now open every day to pick your own and hayrides to get you there are free. Apple picking is only open on Saturday and Sundays, so if you’re in need of a bussell for all those pies, make sure you stop by the orchard on the weekend. While you’re there, enjoy all the attractions (open until November 4) like giant slides, pedal carts, corn mazes, and more.

Honey Harvest Festival at Oregon Ridge
On October 6-7, come celebrate all things honey at the annual festival where bees are the headliners. Learn about the incredible creatures by watching honeybee hive demos. And, if you get hungry, enjoy all the food trucks have to offer, then go ahead and make some honey-flavored ice cream for dessert. The best part about this all-ages gathering (aside from the fact that you’ll take home more honey than Pooh) is that admission is totally free. How sweet is that?

Apple picking at Butler’s Orchard
Butler’s Orchard in Germantown is another sweet spot to hit up this time of year. It has some of the best harvesting around including apples galore (Stayman and Golden Delicious) for $1.99 a pound. Now that’s a lot of applesauce! There are, of course, pumpkins to pick and flowers, too. While you’re there, the kids can enjoy the fun of hayrides, pony rides, and even visiting the farm’s two miniature donkeys.

Over the past few weeks, the Trump administration has been under fire from opponents and allies following the images and sounds of more than 2,000 young children who were separated from their parents and being kept in cages in a detention center in Texas. Yesterday, President Trump signed an executive order that ends the policy of separating migrant children from their parents who are detained.

“So, we’re going to have strong—very strong borders,” Trump said. “But we’re going to keep the families together. I didn’t like the sight, or the feeling of families being separated.”

These comments come after he earlier argued that “you can’t do it by executive order.” The President is now ordering that family separation will be replaced with the detention of entire families. It’s not immediately clear what will happen to the detained children or when they will be reunited with their parents.

Since May 24, when the “zero-tolerance” policy was enforced, there have been dozens of immigrant children from Guatemala, El Salvador, and Honduras in Maryland that were separated from their families after crossing the border into America illegally. While the President’s order will stop the future separation of child and parent, local organizations are concerned about the well-being of the children already separated. The Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service (LIRS) that works with refugees and migrants openly opposes the practice of family detention.

“While children will no longer be ripped from the arms of their parents for the sole purpose of deterring immigration, they will go to jail with their parents,” said Kay Bellor, VP for programs at LIRS, in a statement. “Jail is never an appropriate place for a child.”

For the past two years, the Catholic Charities of Maryland’s Esperanza Center has been running a family reunification program that helps minors reunite with their families. The center has helped 243 unaccompanied minors who have crossed the border—including eight who were forcibly separated from their parents—so far this year.

“We haven’t received any guidance from the [Trump] administration for how they are going to handle the children who have already been separated,” said Helany Sinkler, who runs the reunification program. “Although the children are being cared for and looked after in the shelter, there’s nothing better than reuniting a child with their family.”

Sinkler says that the reunification process is not an easy one and predicting how long it takes is tougher. Locating and approving a sponsor is a tedious process including finger printing, background checks, and myriad communication across borders given that most children arrive with nothing but a name and phone number for a relative. During that time, the child is placed in either a shelter or foster care, depending on the age, until a legal sponsor is appointed.

The American Academy of Pediatrics, the American College of Physicians, and the American Psychiatric Association have all issued statements warning against the traumatic effects of separating families—representing more than 250,000 doctors in the United States.

“To pretend that separated children do not grow up with the shrapnel of this traumatic experience embedded in their minds is to disregard everything we know about child development, the brain, and trauma,” the doctors wrote in a statement to President Trump.

In addition to the reunification process, director of the Esperanza Center Val Twanmoh says that they are working with children have suffered traumatic experiences both in the home country and once crossing into the U.S. She stressed a need for increased counseling and mental health workers to assist with the transition of the children.

“Finding bilingual mental health providers is extremely difficult,” she said. “We normally have to refer them out because we don’t have the workers to accommodate it. It’s extremely difficult.”

Sinkler is still planning to do all she can for as many children as she can with the current resources she has but is still in disbelief that something so “unbelievable and incomprehensible” is happening in this country.

“When you’re talking about family separation, there’s now this added layer on top of everything they’ve already suffered in home country,” she said. “We are essentially re-traumatizing the children that came seeking protection and fleeing already horrible conditions. It’s unreal that this is America that is doing this. This isn’t another country that’s notorious for not being sympathetic. This is not what we do.”

Having a family doesn’t have to mean kissing your love of live music goodbye—at least not during Baltimore’s sunny seasons. Concert-hopping can totally be tougher with kids in tow, but this time of year the city is packed with outdoor, kid-friendly events parents can actually relax and enjoy. An atmosphere that puts parents at ease while catering to young ones means concert fun for all. This year, there’s plenty to choose from and few reasons to stay home.  

WTMD First Thursdays
The much-loved First Thursday concerts are back at Canton Waterfront Park starting May 3. Two stages, food vendors, drinks by The Brewer’s Art, and even a kid’s zone are sure to keep the whole family entertained. Artists like Jessica Lea Mayfield and Lake Street Drive will bring big crowds, so come early and post-up until those little yawns set in.

Summer Concerts at Oregon Ridge
This local park is known for its nature center and beautiful trails. But Oregon Ridge has music-lover appeal, too. From KarmaFest to Music in the Woods, and the always eagerly anticipated Hot August Music, the venue holds several day-long events perfect for every age. Kids can take listen to tunes, head over to the playground, and maybe snag a hug from the Oriole Bird, too (who tends to make an appearance at Hot August.

Belvedere Square Summer Sounds
If you’re in the market (Belvedere Market, that is) for a laid-back, post-work-week hang, Summer Sounds is just what the family ordered. Every Friday evening from May 25 until September 7, the square comes alive with music by local artists, and plenty of family dancing. Delicious food and slurpable drinks are available from Grand Cru and the market shops. Kids come for the face-painting, kid-zone games, and general running amuck with neighborhood friends. Parents stay for the music and sweet sangria. Equally sweet is the adult interaction and relaxed vibes the concerts never fails to bring.

MECU Pavilion (formerly Pier Six)
Not all concert venues are family-friendly, but MECU has a few perks that make bringing the kids a sinch. With lots of lawn space to roam, you won’t have to worry about tots getting lost in the shuffle or those little ear drums, either. Kids of all ages are welcome and those under two get in free. A few of this summer’s shows include Primus, LSD (Lucinda Williams, Steve Earle and Dwight Yoakam), and The Barenaked Ladies. And if you’re really in it for the kids, don’t miss KidzBop Live on August 10.

Summer Socials on the Waterfront
Waterfront Partnership makes West Shore Park another great spot to gather and get down. Every second Friday from May through August, food trucks line the streets while Dooby’s provides drinks for thirsty concert-goers. This year, performers like Kelly Bell Band, The New Romance, What’s Next, and The Loose Ties take the stage. Kids surely aren’t forgotten at this summer standby either, with creative kid-zone fun, like giant building blocks.

Shop and Eat to the Beat on the Avenue
Live music begins at White Marsh on May 25 and continues every Friday and Saturday through Labor Day. The first band of the year is Nelly’s Echo. Other performers include the Cajun and zydeco sounds of The Crawdaddies and reggae from Jah Works. Food can be purchased from any of the avenues eateries and beer, wine, and crushes are available in the event area. With plenty of retail stores to hit up nearby, there are tons of reasons to check out the family-centric weekly events.

Feet on the Street in Towson
Bands, bouncy castles, face-painting, and more make this Towson mainstay an event local families look forward to every year. On Friday evenings from May 18 through September 28, local bands like Jury, Crushing Day, and Kitty Black will perform. Families can relax, eat, drink, and get their feet moving over on Allegheny Avenue.

Summer Concerts at Merriweather Post Pavilion
While you might not want to take your kids to the Vans Warped Tour on Sunday, July 27 just yet (though the event is all ages—and they might just enjoy the mohawks and crowd-surfing!), Merriweather has plenty of day-long events that are perfect for the whole family. From the Capital Jazz Festival on Sunday, June 3 to the Summer Spirit Festival on August 4 and 5, there are more than a few concerts to choose from. The kid-friendly site has a spacious lawn with plenty of room for the kids to wiggle, cruise the vendors or just rock out.

In Charm City, everything starts to get a little greener once March rolls around. Aside from the natural signs of spring, expect to see a surplus of shamrocks, emerald garb, and even green beer, all in honor of St. Patrick’s Day. Though we lost a few beloved Irish pubs this year (RIP Patrick’s of Pratt Street and Liam Flynn’s Ale House), there are still plenty of places to properly raise a glass to the Emerald Isle. So whether you’re planning to partake in a boozy bar crawl, jam to Celtic rock, or pair a pint of Guinness with some classic Shepherd’s Pie, here are our picks for the best local St. Paddy’s celebrations.

BAR BLARNEY

3/3: Guinness Pairings Dinner
To kick off Slainte’s annual 17 Days of St. Patrick festivities leading up to the big day, the Fells Point pub is hosting this special dinner that pairs five courses with signature Guinness brews. Dishes to look out for include Oysters Rockefeller, Shepherd’s Pie fritters, blonde ale mussels, Guinness-braised short ribs, and a layered bourbon chocolate cake. Slainte Irish Pub, 1700 Thames St., 6-8 p.m., $35, 410-563-6600

3/4: Canton Irish Stroll
Crawl around Canton’s O’Donnell Square to enjoy drink deals including $3 Miller Lite, $4 Blue Moon, and $5 Summer Shandy cans, as well as $5 Jameson shots. Participating bars include El Bufalo Tequila Bar, Portside Tavern, Southern Provisions, and Irish favorites Looney’s and Claddagh Pub. O’Donnell Square, 2900 O’Donnell St., 1-9 p.m., $12

3/11: Second Annual Broad Street Bar Crawl
Timonium watering holes Ryleigh’s Oyster, Five Martini Bar, and Mother’s Grille are teaming up to co-host this second annual crawl. Don your green to enjoy food and drink specials and live music at each spot. Multiple locations including Ryleigh’s Oyster, 23 W. Padonia Road, Timonium, 12-9 p.m., 410-539-2053

3/11: Federal Hill Irish Stroll
Take to the streets of Federal Hill to sip discounted drinks, cheer on strolling bagpipers, and experience a raging outdoor block party on East Cross Street. Deals at participating bars—think favorites like Ropewalk Tavern, Wayward, Boiler Room, and Magerks Pub—will include $3 Miller Lite, $4 Blue Moon, and $5 Summer Shandy cans. Register at Mother’s Grille, 1119 S. Charles St., 1-9 p.m., $20

3/12-17: St. Paddy’s Week at James Joyce
Post up at this Harbor East pub all week long for events emphasizing live music, pint glass engraving, and a sampling of beers to be featured at Guinness’s new brewery in Relay. On St. Patrick’s Day, the pub will open its doors at 7 a.m. offering $3.17 pints, Irish dancers, bagpipers, and traditional delicacies all day long. James Joyce Irish Pub, 616 President St., 410-727-5017

3/17: St. Patrick’s Day at R. House
Beloved bartenders Amie Ward and Aaron Joseph will be pouring special “Irish Goodbye” boilermakers (Brewer’s Art Zeke’s coffee porter and a shot of Jameson) to pair with festive eats from all of the purveyors at this raved-about Remington food hall. Expect bites including vegan shamrock smoothies and green mac and cheese from Stall 11, mint hummus from Arba, chicken soup with green dill matzoh balls from D.C.-based pop-up Prescription Chicken, and a special “San Patricia” arepa filled with corned beef, sweet peppers, and cilantro sauce from White Envelope. 301 W. 29th St., 443-347-4570

3/17: St. Patrick’s Day at Tark’s
For one night only, this Timonium hangout is transforming into O’ Tark’s Grille, a festive concept that offers drink specials, Emerald Isle-inspired eats, and live performances by Irish music masters Laura Byrne and Dominick Murray. The party will mark the inaugural event inside the restaurant’s new heated and tented outdoor pergola. Tark’s Grill, 2630 W. Joppa Road, Ste. 116, Timonium, 410-583-8275

3/17: Saint Pirate’s Day
Known for its tiki cocktails and karaoke nights, this Glen Burnie bar certainly knows how to throw a party. The Island-themed spot is celebrating with a blowout boasting green beer, Guinness pints, Jameson pickle-back shots, corned beef, bangers and mash, and Bailey’s ice cream sundaes. Mutiny Pirate Bar & Island Grille, 1653 Marley Ave., Glen Burnie, 410-787-2050

3/12-18: St. Patrick’s Day Spirit Cruises
Step aboard this festive booze cruise decked out in green decor, which boasts a full bar, buffet menu, and live DJ entertainment. Spirit of Baltimore 561 Light St., Inner Harbor, Times vary, $36-51, 866-312-2469

3/17: St. Patrick’s Day Hooley at Tilted Kilt
This White Marsh pub is opening its doors bright and early on St. Paddy’s Day, serving free breakfast paired with $3 mimosas and Bloody Marys. Throughout the day, enjoy ice luge, bomb and shooter specials, and a holiday menu showcasing eats like Scotch eggs and corned beef and cabbage. Tilted Kilt Pub, 8133 Honeygo Blvd, White Marsh, 410-497-0792

3/17-18: St. Patrick’s Day Bash and Inaugural Block Party at Delia Foley’s
This South Baltimore staple is going all out for St. Patrick’s Day weekend, kicking things off with a rager on March 17 highlighting basket giveaways, live music by local rockers Star Crush and Bond and Bentley, and drink specials like $5 Jameson shots and $7 Irish trash cans. The festivities continue with the bar’s first-ever St. Paddy’s block party on March 18 featuring ice luge, food specials, multiple tents, a Guinness beer truck, and live music by Bumpin Uglies and Honey Extractors. Delia Foley’s Pub, 1439 S. Charles St., Times vary, Free-$10, 443-682-9141

3/17-18: St. Patrick’s Beer & Oyster Weekend
The Boathouse Canton is getting into the spirit by offering St. Patrick’s Day specials including $2.50 craft drafts, $4 Guinness pints, and $5 Jameson drinks. To keep the party going, the waterfront spot will host a Maryland Beer & Oyster Festival on March 18 with live music by Eastern Shore-based singer-songwriter Justin Ryan, $1 oysters, and $1 pours from local breweries including Heavy Seas Beer, Jailbreak Brewing, Monument City Brewing, and Waverly Brewing Company. The Boathouse Canton, 2809 Boston St., Times vary, Free, 410-773-9795

3/18: Green Kegs & Eggs Rally
Make your way over to downtown’s nightlife district to enjoy live DJ entertainment, breakfast sandwiches from Luckie’s Tavern, and plenty of green beer at participating bars including PBR and Leinenkugel’s Beer Garden. Power Plant Live, 34 Market Place, 10 a.m.-3 p.m., $30-60

CELTIC CONCERTS

3/11: Teelin Irish Dance Co.
Marvel in the work of this Columbia-based dance troupe, which fuses Celtic dance music with its high-energy routines. The Carroll Arts Center, 91 W. Main St., Westminster. 3 & 7 p.m. $14-16. 410-848-7272.

3/17: St. Patty’s Day Banger
Local rockers 3PM, Others May Fall, The Great Heights Band, Underdog Champs, and The Stifled are gathering to play this special St. Paddy’s show at Baltimore Soundstage. Celebrate in style by taking advantage of the venue’s $30 bottomless beer package. Baltimore Soundstage, 124 Market Place, 7:30 p.m., $10-15, 410-244-0057

3/17-18: Meet in the Street 2017
Now in its 22nd year, Claddagh Pub’s weekend-long block party is back with heated tents, local bands, and plenty of Irish car bombs to go around. Swing by O’Donnell Square to catch sets from Liquid A, Kristen and the Noise, Hot Tub Limo, and Starcrush. Claddagh Pub, 2918 O’Donnell St., 11 a.m.-11 p.m., Free, 410-522-4220

3/17-19: Celtic Celebration
Conductor Jack Everly and the BSO SuperPops will be joined by a few special guests for an evening of bagpiping, step dancing, and performances of recognizable Irish titles (think “Danny Boy”), as well as pieces from films like Titanic and Braveheart. Joseph Meyerhoff Symphony Hall, 1212 Cathedral St. Fri.-Sat. 8 p.m., Sun. 3 p.m. $33-99. 410-783-8000.

3/17: Shamrocks & Shenanigans 2017
Squeeze your way into the crowd at Power Plant Live’s main stage to jam to live covers by Mr. Greengenes with special guests Laura Lea and Tripp Fabulous. Plus, sip green beer from the district’s surrounding bars and have your phones ready for a special green balloon drop. Power Plant Live, 34 Market Place, 6 p.m., $15-20

3/17: Shamrock & Roll Party
Union Jack’s might technically be a British Pub, but we’re all Irish on March 17. Head to the Columbia mainstay to down drafts, enjoy free Irish breakfast from 9-10 a.m., enter into the scary leprechaun contest, and get down to ’80s covers by The Reagan Years. Union Jack’s, 10400 Little Patuxent Parkway, Columbia, 2 p.m.-1:30 a.m., $5, 410-720-5225

FAMILY FUN

3/4: For the ‘Wee Little Ones
Bring the kids for a morning of face painting, shamrock crafts, complimentary breakfast, and dance tutorials led by the O’Connor School of Irish Dance. Adults-only specials include $5 Irish coffees all morning long. Slainte Irish Pub, 1700 Thames St., 7 a.m.-1 p.m., Free, 410-563-6600

3/11: Celtic Canter
Throw on your greenest attire for this annual 5K around historic Westminster, which offers a special Leprechaun Chase for kids. The fun run descends into a post-race party with archery demos, Gaelic football, and Irish-inspired crafts and games. Main Street, Westminster. 9 a.m., $14-16. 410-751-5501

3/12: Shamrock Shindig
Dress up your little ones in green and gold for this annual harborfront festival, where they can indulge in everything from crafts and dancing to face painting and temporary tattoos. Plus, food trucks, beer and wine, and live music by The Shamrogues will all be featured for adults to enjoy. Pierce’s Park, Inner Harbor & Pier V, 10:30 a.m.-2 p.m., Free-$30

3/12: St. Patrick’s Snakes
Ancient lore has it that Saint Patrick banished all of the snakes from the Emerald Isle back in the fifth century. The snakes in Ireland might be lacking, but locally, you can find plenty of them at Lake Roland. Kids are invited to meet some of the slithering reptiles up close and create a festive craft at this annual event hosted by the Lake Roland Nature Council. Lake Roland, 1000 Lakeside Drive, 2-4 p.m., $2-3, 410-887-4154

3/17: St. Patrick’s Day at The Corner Pantry
Celebrate the heritage of British-born chef/co-owner Neill Howell—who just so happens to be half Irish—at this family-friendly haunt in Mt. Washington. Delicacies to be featured on the BYOB restaurant’s special holiday menu include lamb stew, fish and chips, corned beef and cabbage with scallion mash, and Irish whiskey cake with Bailey’s caramel sauce. Adults are encouraged to celebrate in style by bringing their own Guinness. The Corner Pantry, 6080 Falls Road, 7 a.m.-8 p.m., 667-308-2331

3/17-18: St. Patrick’s Day Tea
The Carroll County Farm Museum is bringing back this annual holiday event, which offers a three-course Irish breakfast followed by a guided tour of the farmhouse led by a costumed curator. Carroll County Farm Museum, 500 S. Center St., Westminster, seatings from 11 a.m.-4 p.m., $20, 800-654-4645

3/18: Irish Family Day
The Stil in Timonium will be closing out its weeklong festivities (which encompass Irish trivia, live music, open mic nights, and daily food and and beat-the-clock drink specials) with a soiree for the entire family boasting clowns, crafts, balloon animals, face-painting, and a jam-packed live music lineup. An Poitin Stil, 2323 York Road, Timonium, 11 a.m., Free, 410-560-7900

3/25: Walking Tour of an Irish Neighborhood
Head to Mount Clare Station, the oldest surviving building on the B&O Railroad Museum campus, to learn about its roots as an immigrant Irish workplace. Baltimore & Ohio Railroad Museum, 901 W. Pratt St., 10:30 a.m.-12 p.m., Free, 410-347-4747

3/25: Traditional Irish Breakfast
Wrap up St. Paddy’s month by joining the Police Emerald Society of Baltimore at this fundraiser that supports Charm City’s annual parade. Chow down on traditional breakfast fare prepared by local chef Jim Farace while enjoying Irish dance performances and a presentation by the Irish Railroad Workers Museum. FOP Lodge 34, 740 Wampler Road, Middle River, 10 a.m.-1 p.m., Free-$27

PARADE PARTIES

3/4-5: Annapolis Irish Weekend
Downtown Annapolis’ annual weekend-long celebration kicks off with a gala at the Annapolis Waterfront Hotel, followed by the fifth-annual St. Patrick’s Day Parade that steps off from West Street in front of Fado Irish Pub on March 5. Locations & times vary. 410-280-0445

3/12: Shamrock 5K
Start parade day off right with this jolly jog around the city, which concludes at Power Plant Live with a post-race party featuring free beer and live music by Super Bueno. Charles & Mulberry Streets, 1:15-4:15 p.m., $45

3/12: St. Patrick’s Day Parade
’Tis the season to celebrate the Emerald Isle, with green beer, green clothing, and the 62nd annual St. Patty’s Day parade. After you run in the annual Shamrock 5K race, make your way to the Washington Monument on Charles Street for a great view of the bagpipers, floats, dance groups, and local officials hoofing it to celebrate the contributions of Irish Americans. Washington Monument, 699 Washington Pl. 2 p.m. Free.

3/12: The Second Annual St. Patrick’s Day Parade Party Bus
Forget about parking and Uber surges on parade day. The Life of Reilly in Butcher’s Hill is offering round-trip transportation to and from Mt. Vernon, and an after-party with dinner, drinks, and tons of prizes and giveaways back at the bar. Bus departs from Life of Reilly, 2031 E. Fairmount Ave., 1-4:30 p.m., $55, 410-327-6425

3/12: Parade Day at Mick O’Sheas
Snag a front row seat to watch the floats make their way down North Charles Street at this Irish staple in Mt. Vernon. Following the procession, stick around to hear rockers Gaelic Mishap take the stage at 3 p.m. Mick O’Sheas Irish Pub, 328 N. Charles St., 410-539-7504

3/12: Parade Day Brunch at The Elephant
Parade Day just so happens to overlap with what will be the first-ever Sunday brunch service at The Elephant in Mt. Vernon. Reserve a table for brunch and stick around to watch the procession prance down North Charles Street. 924 N. Charles St., 443-447-7878

“When I’m out to dinner, the last thing I want to hear is a screaming kid.”

– Kelly Manly, mortgage loan closer

“I don’t mind a
well-behaved child . . . as long as the parent doesn’t mind the
possibility of adult conversations around their child.”

– Annie Zeiler, hairstylist at FX Studios

“More importantly, what about the [people] that get drunk and talk so unbelievably loud that you can hear them across the room?”

– Erik Sizemore, self-employed

“If they act appropriately, it’s fine. You should not know they are there.”

– Stacy Thayer, customer pickup coordinator

“If you can afford a nice restaurant, you can afford a babysitter.”

– Rob Brock, commercial/industrial sales

“Only if they’re sedated.”

– Shane Gabriszeski, pharmacy buyer

Twenty years ago, Joel Lee, a 21-year-old Korean-American beginning his senior year at then-Towson State University, was robbed, shot in the face, and killed while heading to a classmate’s home in Northeast Baltimore. “He wanted to borrow a computer-science book because he was determined to get his grades even higher this year,” his friend, Folashayo Babalola, told The Baltimore Sun after the September 1993 murder. “Joel was very quiet, very ambitious,” Babalola continued. “This has really shaken me. . . . ”

The brutal slaying also shook Baltimore’s Korean-American community, whose leaders still recall the tragedy. Already feeling under siege following attacks directed at Korean-American merchants in the 1980s and 1990s, the Lee case and trial was followed closely in the city. The acquittal of the accused two years later by an almost all African-African jury spurred a protest march downtown and appeared to reflect a troubled relationship between the Korean-American community and traditionally African-American neighborhoods where many of their businesses were located.

(It wasn’t only in Baltimore where relationships between Korean-American merchants and the African-American community were overheating. A year before Lee’s murder, in Los Angeles, Korean store owners were caught in the middle of rioting following the acquittal of white police officers in the beating of Rodney King. In New York, there had been Korean-American store boycotts.)

In Baltimore, there was also a boycott of a Korean-American-owned store, which was eventually closed by the Health Department. And there was a contentious debate over the renovation of the Lafayette and Belair Markets, where Korean-immigrant owners felt they were being pushed out by the city.

Into this fraying backdrop, the Baltimore-based Korean-American Grocers & Licensed Beverage Association of Maryland (KAGRO) was founded in 1995. Forming a nonprofit to help Korean-Americans deal with vendors and navigate the myriad city regulations had been discussed for six months, says Jay Park, who operated a Park Heights liquor store for 25 years and was an early KAGRO president. But the group’s focus quickly expanded in the wake of the Lee trial—which was followed by a wave of four Korean-American store shootings in an eight-day period in January 1997. Immediately, KAGRO began working to build relationships in local communities—starting a scholarship fund, organizing outreach events, and attending meetings. Merchants tried to develop a better relationship with the city police, which had proved a struggle, if for no other reason than the cultural and language barriers.

“The timing [of KAGRO’s launch] wasn’t tied directly to the Lee case,” says Park, “but it concentrated our attention on the most pressing issues we had to deal with, which were not problems with the vendors.”

At his son’s memorial service, Joel Lee’s father said he didn’t “want my son’s death to have no meaning.”

A generation later, Park believes something positive can be connected to that tragedy. “Up until that time, I think we had been looked at and treated differently because of our skin color, our language,” Park says. “But after that, I think people saw us coming together and began to see us as a part of the community, too.”

“Korean-Americans, we don’t have a lot of resources when we arrive.”

But it has never been easy running a corner store in Baltimore. Crime and poverty persist in wide swaths. And now, after decades of struggle on tough corners, city officials are planning to significantly reduce the number of neighborhood liquor stores—the vast majority of which are owned by Korean-Americans. In a sense, Park says, KAGRO members “feel under attack again.”

Among the first things KAGRO did 18 years ago was start a scholarship program for local students. Since then, the association has awarded about $300,000, via annual grants to students in the neighborhoods where KAGRO-member stores are located, as well as to high-school and college-age children of store owners. Two police officers are also annually awarded “appreciation” honors at a ceremony at the Greenmount Senior Center.

The scholarships, as well as different community events and outreach forums, Park says, helped defuse tensions over time. “We tried to go around and get questions from the community, we tried to listen and get the community’s perspective as well as the merchants,” Park says. There were also meetings with former Mayor Kurt L. Schmoke’s Korean liaison and municipal departments, and later with the O’Malley and Dixon administrations. By 2004, the Maryland Advisory Committee to the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights had produced a report—years in the making—that found that, while problems persisted between the African-American and Korean-American store owners, “some merchants enjoy friendly relationships in the neighborhoods where their stores are located . . . ” The report, however, also found that “city agencies can do more” to provide services without bias. Not that there wasn’t work needed on the store owners’ side.

“There are cultural differences between the West and East,” says Jin Wook Kang, a restaurant owner and lower Charles Village liquor-store operator. “In our home country, making eye contact is viewed as disrespectful in certain relationships, for example, between a student and a teacher; with a police officer or government official. We listen, but we look down. In our home country, we put change on the counter and push it toward a customer—it’s considered more polite than touching someone’s hand. But here, someone would tell police, ‘They’re rude, they put the change on the counter and push it toward you.’ The opposite was true. It was a misunderstanding. But things have improved a great deal.”

Jay Park arrived in Baltimore as a 17-year-old in 1973, at the start of a Korean boom following the 1965 Immigration Act, which abolished nation-based immigration laws giving Europeans preference. Ninety-five percent of Korean-Americans consist of post-1965 immigrants and their children. In the Baltimore region, the Korean-American community has grown from 2,000, Park estimates, when his family arrived, to 60,000.

“My father dreamed of a better life, a better life for his family—the land of opportunity—and he applied for immigration,” says Park, a fit and young-looking 57, casually dressed in a maroon golf shirt tucked into gray slacks at KAGRO’s office at North and Maryland Avenues. He speaks in accented but perfect English, smiling as he recalls his family’s early struggles to acclimate and make ends meet in their third-floor Patterson Park apartment. “Immigration was open to ‘skilled labor’ immigrants and he was an auto mechanic. He brought the whole family and only had $400. I think about it—there were seven of us—five siblings. Where does anybody get that kind of courage?” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t think I could’ve done it.”

His father eventually landed a Sparrows Point union job, where he punched a clock for 15 years. Park graduated from Towson in 1980 with a business degree, and, after a series of entry-level retail jobs, including door-to-door sales, he decided to strike out on his own. It was not just a desire to be self-employed; it was almost a necessity, he says.

“All of us have a family . . . counting on us, and this is the one thing we know.”

“First-generation Korean-Americans, we don’t have a lot resources when we arrive,” Park says. “People may have a lot of education in Korea, but they don’t know anyone and might have limited language skills. So, people pull resources together. We pull our own funding together, sometimes through a gye—a fund community members contribute to each month and then have access to. That’s how a lot of Korean-American merchants start—even today—though less than before.”

Michelle Ha, current KAGRO president, has been here since 1980 and lives above her East Biddle Street liquor store, which she’s owned for 15 years—not far from where Park’s family first settled. She throws an annual spaghetti block party, collects school supplies for neighborhood kids, and gives away Thanksgiving meals. “I love doing those things,” Ha says. A community council member, she works closely with Eastern District police—she has the commander’s cell-phone number—and officers know her by name. She also puts together an annual summer Day of Hope festival at Bocek Park, which includes children’s activities and rides.

“She’s a fixture in that community,” says Lt. Col. Melvin T. Russell, commander of the department’s community partnership division. “When I need help, she is one of the first people I call. She serves as a go-between with the small businesses [and police], and I know she provides holiday meals for hundreds of people. The city needs more people like her.”

Ha, however, is concerned about her future. Baltimore may need committed activists like Ha, but city officials don’t want the kind of business she owns in residential communities anymore. Part of the city’s massive rezoning effort entails scaling back the number of liquor licenses. Proportionally, the rollback will hit the Korean-American community, which owns the majority of corner “Class A” liquor stores, hardest.

Currently, there are 1,330 liquor licenses in the city. About 300 are “Class A” licenses, of which 128 are slated for cuttng. Thomas Stosur, Baltimore City’s director of planning, notes studies showing a correlation between crime, violence, poor public-health outcomes, and the number of liquor stores in densely populated residential areas. He adds that the last time the city underwent a rezoning overhaul was in 1971 when the 128 current liquor licenses the city wants to remove were “grandfathered” in. “We refer to them as ‘non-conforming’ because, under current law, they wouldn’t qualify for a liquor license because they are in a residential area,” Stosur says. “That’s where that number comes from.”

Stosur adds that many “Class BD-7” licenses (bars that do a majority carryout business) will be affected as well and are not typically Korean-American owned. In both cases, he says, the city intends to assist storeowners in retooling their business, if possible, so they can remain. Owners may sell their licenses, though that won’t be easy, Stosur admits.

Councilman Nick Mosby, who successfully sponsored a bill last year to stop liquor-store sales of candy, soda, and snacks to minors, says the effort to remove liquor stores from residential streets is overdue. “At the end of the day, this is an opportunity to build healthier communities,” he says. “Our juveniles grow up surrounded by liquor stores to a point where it becomes normalized. I ask people, ‘Where do you live? Would you put up with it on your block?'” Mosby acknowledges many owners have developed good neighborhood relationships, but says rezoning liquor stores out of residential areas and away from city schools is just common sense. Mosby expects the proposed rezoning to come before the City Council this fall—hearings last spring were emotional and contentious with KAGRO members voicing opposition—with a vote next spring. Owners “will have had 3 to 4 years to make necessary adjustments,”he says.

Still, Park, Ha, and KAGRO members feel they were excluded from the rezoning discussions. Park points out that while many businesses fled in the 1970s, ’80s, and ’90s, the Korean-American business owners stayed. Many in the Korean-American community did move their residences to Baltimore and Howard Counties, but still worked with city officials to reduce crime and improve neighborhoods where they owned businesses. Station North, where KAGRO’s office is located, never quite became “Korea-town,” as Park puts it, but remains the center of the city’s Korean community and includes popular restaurants that date back to the 1980s. Those restaurants and the Korean community helped keep Station North viable before its Arts & Entertainment District designation and recent boom. “Now,” says Park, “they don’t need us anymore, and it’s goodbye.”

Of course, most of Park’s children, like other store owners’ kids born here, don’t have an interest in taking over the family business. Not after watching their mothers and fathers spend seven days a week, 12 hours a day, operating a corner store in a gritty section of town, often stuck at a cash register behind bullet-proof glass.

“Our kids don’t want that,” Park says. “They want professional jobs.”

Their parents, however, can’t afford to lose their stores, where their income and retirement remains tied up.

“All of us have a family and people counting on us, and this is the one thing we know how to do,” Ha says. “Once you start, you have so much money and time invested. How do you get the return that you have worked hard for?”

There are tons of fireworks going off this Fourth of July, so here are our picks for the best off-the-beaten-path views.

Tide Point Waterfront Park
Locust Point
With fewer crowds than atop Federal Hill or at the Inner Harbor, Tide Point’s waterfront promenade—where Hull Street meets the water and Under Armour has taken over—feels like a boardwalk right in the middle of the city.

Luskin’s Hill
Towson
Though the original Luskin’s furniture store closed nearly 20 years ago, they just opened a new one last year. But the 120-foot incline off of Cromwell Bridge Road remains one of the best places to see the Loch Raven fireworks.

Tiki Barge
Inner Harbor
This floating peninsula of a bar will be a great place to catch the downtown show. We recommend hanging out at the upstairs bar (order a margarita, if that’s your thing) where there is no cover and flawless views of the Harbor.

UMBC Soccer Field
Catonsville
Catonsville puts on a fantastic fireworks show, which most people watch from the high school. But UMBC’s soccer field is a nice alternative. There was a teeny incident last year with the sprinklers, but maintenance crews promise they’ll remember to turn them off.

Wit & Wisdom
Harbor East
Wit & Wisdom’s new outdoor patio and bar space—that they just opened in the spring—is one of the prime viewing locations in town. Expect casual fare like BBQ ribs, fried chicken, grilled brats, and sangria.

I am a city dweller. I am a mama. I live in a row house. I have four wee ones. I have a minivan. I have no backyard. I have a double stroller. My brood (Milo, 6, Willa, 4, twins Zeke and Gideon, 2) has spent all their years, thus far, as city kids, under the glow of a winking Natty Boh. It’s not perfect, but neither is suburbia. Here’s how we’ve (happily) lived almost a decade in the city, while growing into a family of six.

Find a listserv/playgroup/website.
Being a first-time parent can seem extra isolating in the city when your next-door neighbors are still doing the single thing, and you feel like the only one in your entire ZIP code who has reproduced. The best thing I ever did was drag my 3-week-old to his first playgroup. I met mommy friends who also knew what it was like to park three blocks from home with a baby and groceries; who understood that I couldn’t have a swing and bouncy seat because there just wasn’t enough space; and who introduced me to the neighborhood listserv——a local e-mail list for parents to talk about everything: best ballet classes, sleeping advice, items for sale, pediatrician recommendations, and on and on. My other lifesavers: the Downtown Baltimore Family Alliance and websites like (cool) progeny that made being a parent feel creative and, well, fun.

Get a membership. Everywhere.
We belong to the National Aquarium, Port Discovery, Maryland Science Center, The Maryland Zoo, B&O Railroad Museum . . . and is there anything left? The best thing about a cramped house is it forces you out. The only decision is: giraffes or planetarium? Dolphin show or choo-choo trains? We’re spoiled by how many great kid-friendly spots there are within the city limits. We visit places frequently enough that the membership pays for itself quickly. And with memberships, there is no pressure to stay somewhere for hours——we can pop in, play, eat lunch, and be home for a 1 p.m. naptime.

Every day is an adventure.
We walk a lot. (If only we had a pedometer on our strollers and Ergos to see how many miles we’ve logged.) Often the trip to get somewhere is just as fun as the destination. There’s the Charm City Circulator and Water Taxi, scooters, and double-stroller maneuvering. We always, always run into friends we know. There are hard discussions (homelessness and water pollution) and funny ones like, “Can you have a pickle for breakfast?” Answer: Yes, when you’re at the Baltimore Farmers’ Market, and it’s washed down with sprinkle donuts.

The city is your backyard.

You can’t be a homebody in the city. There is always a story time to attend, a playground to discover, a food-truck rally to find, a water fountain to jump into (and emergency dry clothes to buy at H&M.) Here my kids can go to the library and school and on a pirate ship, plus feed ducks and go to a concert, all without climbing into the car. There’s diversity and beauty, crime and exploration, and it all feels like home.

If you talked to any Joe Schmo on the street about the best neighborhoods in Baltimore, they’d list the usual suspects: Canton, Federal Hill, Fells Point, Hampden. And while all of those are wonderful areas, and certainly popular for a reason, we wanted to feature some of the unheralded spots in our region. Many of these areas feel like the neglected step-children of their more popular counterparts, but there are plenty of reasons to celebrate these ’hoods on the rise— whether it’s affordable real estate, adorable mom-and-pop shops, undiscovered art scenes, or fantastic summer events.

As the weather gets warmer, it’s a great time to explore outdoor concerts, local parks, and summer festivals, whether as a visitor or future resident. We urge you to take a closer look at the Baltimore metro area because what you find might surprise you.

*Statistics from 2010 U.S. Census except where noted.

Ashburton

Population: 2,520 Median home price: $152,000 Own-to-rent ratio: 71.7 to 28.3 percent Miles from downtown Baltimore: 4.5*

Since the mid-’50s, Ashburton has been the home base for Baltimore’s African-American elite. It has produced generations of civic leaders including Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake, who grew up in the neighborhood, and former Mayor Kurt Schmoke. Even one of Mayor Rawlings-Blake’s recent challengers, Catherine Pugh, calls the petite district north of Liberty Heights Avenue, east of Callaway Avenue, south of Sequoia Avenue, and west of Hilton Road, home. Full of older, well-kept homes on large lots with mature trees, Ashburton recalls parts of Cedarcroft or even Mt. Washington (though much less hilly). Nearby Lake Ashburton in Hanlon Park has a walking path around the reservoir that gets plenty of use while just a little farther down the road is Druid Hill Park, containing the Maryland Zoo in Baltimore and the Howard Peters Rawlings Conservatory and Botanic Gardens of Baltimore, which is named after Mayor Rawlings-Blake’s late dad, state Delegate Howard Peters “Pete” Rawlings, who died in 2003. Ashburtonites take their horticulture seriously, and the For-Win-Ash Garden Club (named for the communities of Forest Park, Windsor Hills, and Ashburton) is still very active. Every other year, it hosts a garden tour, but sadly, this is an off year. The recent renovation of Mondawmin Mall has given area retail a boost with a new Target, a Forever 21, and several other clothing stores, now open.

Events:

The Howard Peters Rawlings Conservatory offers weekly classes sure to please green thumbs. On May 5, learn how to create a succulent garden.

The Maryland’s Zoo’s Brew at the Zoo event—two days of craft and local beer sampling and live music—is May 26-27.

Get your engine running at the 2nd annual Druid Hill Auto and Motorcycle Extravaganza, August 25 from 9 a.m.-6 p.m.

Browse the offerings at the city’s newest farmers’ market every Wednesday evening from June through September at the Rawlings Conservatory.

Butchers Hill

Population: 1,889, Median home price: $250,000, Own-to-rent ratio: 51.1 to 48.9 percent, Miles from downtown Baltimore: 1.4

What used to be home to affluent German and Jewish butchers is now home to a diverse cross-section of the city. Butchers Hill is at the northwest end of Patterson Park, bounded by Fayette Street on the north, Patterson Park Avenue on the east, Pratt Street on the south, and Washington Street on the west. A mix of artists, Hopkins employees, students, and empty-nesters now reside in the neighborhood’s oversized brick row houses. Many of the wide, three-story houses are quite affordable for their size, making them attractive to rehabbers. One example of what can be done with these houses is Blue Door on Baltimore, a bed-and-breakfast that opened in 2007. The B&B offers a soothing experience for guests, many of whom are visiting because of nearby The Johns Hopkins Hospital. In fact, a main draw for Butchers Hill residents is its close proximity to Hopkins, Patterson Park, and Fells Point. But you don’t have to leave the confines of the neighborhood to experience urban culture, with places like neighborhood bar The Life of Reilly, which serves up authentic Irish cuisine. If something more upscale is your scene, there is Salt Tavern, which offers fare like duck-fat fries and Kobe-beef sliders in a modern setting. For a quick cup of coffee and a pastry, head over to Water for Chocolate. (Bonus: the shop’s iced drinks have coffee ice cubes so they don’t get watered down.) Then there is also, of course, the natural beauty of the city’s largest park right next door, with tennis and basketball courts, jogging and biking trails, and constant summer festivals.

Baltimore’s Backyard

While many houses surrounding the park don’t have big backyards, there is plenty of green space—–137 acres to be exact—–in adjacent Patterson Park. Here is just a sampling of things to do.

Splish Splash – The pool in Patterson Park is one of the city’s many great, affordable public pools. Pool season starts in June and runs through the last Sunday in August. There’s a lap pool, toddler water-play area, and adult swim times—–all for just $1.50 a visit.

Play Time – Although there are two playgrounds in the park, the one near Eastern Avenue between S. Milton and S. Montford Avenues may be the coolest in the city. Built in 2005, the playground pays tribute to city landmarks—–with row houses, a Bromo-Seltzer clock tower, and a gazebo that looks like the old park’s music pavilion.

Game On – Any athlete would feel at home, whether enjoying the park’s almost three miles of biking and walking trails, 10 tennis courts, four full-sized basketball courts, various multi-use fields, or the rink open for hockey in the winter and broomball in the summer.

Great Lake – Almost smack dab in the middle of the park is its boat lake, which is a combination of open water and wetland habitat for fish, waterfowl, and birds. The lake is great for fishing, wildlife viewing, or just an afternoon of feeding bread to the ducks.

Events

Butchers Hill Flea Market and Craft Fair, located by the pagoda in Patterson Park, is the ultimate treasure trove for the bargain hunter. Tip: Get there early, as the seasoned residents of the neighborhood don’t sleep on this one. May 12, 9 a.m.-3 p.m.

PNC Concerts in Patterson Park run Tuesdays and Sundays throughout the summer. Grab a blanket and a picnic dinner while you listen to everything from salsa and reggae to bluegrass and funk. June 10 and 26; July 8, 17, 31; August 7 and 19, all at 6:30 p.m. (Rain dates are the following Wednesday.)

Latino Fest, one of many ethnic festivals celebrated in the park, is probably the most well attended. With authentic Latino music and delicious food, this annual outdoor party is a big draw for residents of all ethnicities. June 23, 12-10 p.m., and 24, 12-9 p.m. 

Dickeyville

Population: 156 Median home price: $307,500 Own-to-rent ratio: 96.4 to 3.6 percent Miles from downtown Baltimore: 6.2

If you asked a 10-year-old to draw a picture of a storybook village, he or she would probably produce something closely resembling Dickeyville, a National Register Historic Preservation District on the western edge of Baltimore City. A cluster of 138 homes and buildings nestled along narrow, winding streets north of Windsor Mill Road, west of Wetherdsville Road, east of the city-county line, and south of Purnell Drive, Dickeyville got its start as a 19th-century mill village powered by the adjacent Gwynns Falls. Residents take extreme pride in preserving their nabe with not one but two governing bodies overseeing its architectural integrity. (White houses can only be repainted white; shutters are encouraged to be either black or dark green.) But all this enforced quaintness pays off with high home values and a close-knit community. The Dickeyville Garden Club, founded in 1940, hosts multiple community events throughout the year including a spring plant sale and autumn cook-off and bonfire. One of the best perks of living in Dickeyville is its proximity to Gwynns Falls-Leakin Park, a roughly 1,000-acre tract containing walking and biking trails, tennis courts, the Carrie Murray Nature Center, and Orianda House, a 19th-century Italianate mansion. There’s also the nearby 18-hole Forest Park Golf Course, with greens’ fees starting as low as $9.50.

Events:

This year’s Horticultural Society of Maryland’s Garden Tour will offer a peek behind the picturesque picket fences and stone walls of Dickeyville. June 3, 10 a.m.-4 p.m.

Dickeyville takes the Fourth of July seriously with a multiple-day celebration featuring a community dinner dance (June 30), brunch (July 1), and, of course, parade and picnic (July 4).

April through November, Friends of Gwynns Falls Leakin Park hosts Second Sunday in the Park, a day of free activities including guided hikes, tours of Orianda House, and free miniature train rides! 11 a.m.-3 p.m.

Hampstead

Population: 6,323 Median home price: $265,000 Own-to-rent ratio: 74.3 to 22.3 percent Miles from downtown Baltimore: 27.1

Hampstead is a Carroll County town just 30 miles northwest of Baltimore that seems straight out of another time. Main Street is reminiscent of quintessential small-town America, with an old-time police station and great antiquing. There are many sprawling farmhouses on Mt. Carmel Road and along Route 30, but also some beautiful Colonial houses built in the 1800s along Main Street. The central avenue of town also boasts quaint shops like Linens and Lace Tea Room, where you can find girls of all ages having tea parties, or independent floral shop Petals Flowers & Gifts. While there isn’t much for fine dining, there are certainly charming restaurants, like the 50-year-old Dean’s Restaurant, which feels like eating at your grandmother’s house with homemade desserts and delicious corn fritters. For a more casual atmosphere, there is Greenmount Station, known for its crab cakes and sports-bar atmosphere. And every great small town needs a diner, so Hampstead Diner is the spot where locals chow down on sausage gravy and chipped beef while they shoot the breeze about politics and gossip. For fresh produce, there is a farmers’ market at the fire station every Saturday starting on June 9. Plus, right in town, there’s a huge water park Cascade Lake, which is a six-acre, spring-fed lake with a roped-off area for swimming that includes various waterslides and platforms. For the history buffs, there’s a war memorial on Main Street and there are also several historic signs throughout the town marking different Civil War battles as people make their way up to Gettysburg, about an hour north.

Events:

Hampstead Day is a day to celebrate the town where they close off Main Street and feature nearly 150 vendors with kiddie rides, music, and food. May 19, 8 a.m.-4 p.m.

A Month of Sundays Summer Concert Series takes place in nearby Westminster City Park where, every Sunday in July, people bring their lawn chairs and picnic baskets to enjoy country, rockabilly, or Motown. Starting July 1, 6:45-9 p.m.

Hampstead Fire Company Carnival is a six-day event to celebrate the town’s volunteer fire company with a parade in their honor, as well as food, games, and entertainment. August 13-18, 6-11 p.m.

Knettishall

Population: 1,176 Median home price: $198,700 Own-to-rent ratio: 88 to 8.7 percent Miles from downtown Baltimore: 8*
*Statistics courtesy of Cummings & Co. Realtors.

Many people don’t even know how to pronounce this neighborhood (net-a-shawl), let alone know where it is. But, you probably drive by this Towson ’hood all the time since it’s located near Parkville, just west of Loch Raven Boulevard and south of Joppa Road. While it looks like a quintessential county suburb, the real estate is more affordable than its West Towson peers, but with all of the same space in its single-family homes. The ’40s and ’50s brick row homes are reminiscent of downtown architecture, but with the added bonus of front and backyards. Plus, shopping is a breeze with the walking-distance Towson Marketplace, which features stores like like Target, Marshalls, and Wal-Mart. There are plenty of local stalwarts within a stone’s throw, including Johnny Dee’s Lounge, which is a cavernous restaurant that pays tribute to the Colts and also has renowned shrimp salad. Just recently, there was some excitement when Gino’s Burgers opened right up the street, bringing the classic burger back to Baltimore. The cherished ’50-style Bel-Loc Diner and seafood haven Crackpot Restaurant are also close by. And don’t count out The Raven Inn, a dive bar beloved to the locals with entertaining bartenders and great deals on seafood. But a big part of the neighborhood demographic is families, who, most days, can be found enjoying the Pleasant Plains Elementary School playground. For even more space to roam, there is nearby Cromwell Valley Park, which boasts 380 acres of wetlands, meadows, gardens, and a farm right in the center of it, which is known for its organic methods. If organic is your thing, be sure to swing by the neighborhood’s farm stand on Putty Hill Avenue that runs every day in the spring, summer, and fall.

Events:

Towsontown Spring Festival is celebrating its 45th year and will feature four days of live music, beer gardens, carnival games, and countless vendors. May 3 (10 a.m.-3 p.m.), May 4 (5:30-9 p.m.), May 5 (10 a.m.-7 p.m.), and May 6 (1-7 p.m.).

Arts in the Park. This festival in Cromwell Valley Park showcases local fine artists, crafters, writers, and musicians. Also on hand are food, wine, and classic cars. May 12, 10 a.m.-5 p.m.; May 13, 12-5 p.m.

Fourth of July is a pretty big deal in this neighborhood. The fireworks at the former Luskins building are now put up right down the street. Residents can walk down to Pleasant Plains Elementary with chairs and picnic baskets to take in the view. July 4.

Lauraville-Hamilton

Population: 13,903 (combined), Median home price: $159,900 (Lauraville), $150,000 (Hamilton), Own-to-rent ratio: 73.5 to 26.5 percent (Lauraville), 48.6 to 51.4 percent (Hamilton), Miles from downtown Baltimore: 5.1

This hyphenated hamlet is really two neighborhoods tied together by the unifying thread of Harford Road’s business district, which starts in Lauraville just north of Argonne Drive and continues up through Hamilton to Northern Parkway. Quiet, tree-lined streets boasting a mix of bungalows, Foursquares, and farmhouses shoot off the main thoroughfare offering suburban ambiance within the city. Of course, these days, the area is probably best known for its many culinary hotspots (see sidebar). But the affordability of the neighborhood and its strong public and charter schools—–including Hamilton Elementary/Middle School, City Neighbors Hamilton, and City Neighbors High School—–also attracts many young families who can be found browsing the excellent selection of children’s books at Red Canoe Bookstore Café, playing in rec leagues at Herring Run Park, or biking around Lake Montebello. Parents can also enroll their budding thespians in classes at the Performance Workshop Theatre or drop off their tiny dancers at Mid-Atlantic Center for the Performing Arts, a ballet and contemporary dance studio. Mommy and daddy can have fun, too, at Charmed Life, an art gallery and tattoo parlor or at The Chop Shop, a hair salon with a 20-seat movie theater, which owner Lisa Hawks rents out for events. Downstairs from The Chop Shop is Blue Spark Barbershop, home of Bill the Barber, whose in-demand cuts start at $16. And just down the street is Beth’s DIY Workshop, where founder Beth Dellow provides space, tools, and training for do-it-yourselfers.

Destination Dining

If someone had said 10 years ago that Harford Road would become one of Baltimore’s hottest dining destinations, you would have laughed. But, now, you can eat your way from one end to the other. In fact, we recommend you do.

Fine Dining – The strip’s two highest-profile restaurants are Hamilton’s Clementine, which serves upscale comfort food and The Chameleon, which opened in Lauraville in 2001, way before Harford Road was cool.

Casual Dining – Enjoy the hefty crab cake at Koco’s Pub. The recently opened Tooloulou is favored for its Cajun cusine. Hamilton Tavern keeps ’em coming back with a seasonal menu of pub favorites. Los Amigos turns out traditional Mexican food. Big Bad Wolf’s House of Barbecue has excellent meats and sides. And the two local diners—–Lost in the 50’s and Valentino’s—–crank out classic eats, the latter 24/7.

Markets/Groceries – The Tuesday Market in Lauraville sells from June through October. Clementine’s chef/owner, Winston Blick, is opening Green Onion, a grocery which will sell Clementine prepared foods (such as their beloved charcuterie) and other comestibles. Get your daily bread at Hamilton Bakery.

Cafes – Lauraville is home to Zeke’s Coffee, which brews nearly 50 different roasts at its plant and sells them a few blocks away in a coffee shop. Try a cup with an award-winning muffin from Red Canoe Bookstore Café.

Events

The Blue Water Berry Festival in Herring Run Park is a taste of summer with barbecue, music, vendors, and a native-dessert contest. June 23, 12-4 p.m.

The 19th Annual Hamilton Street Festival & Classic Car Show goes down July 28 and features a soapbox derby. 11 a.m.-7 p.m.

First Fridays offer visual and performing arts at galleries including Hamilton Arts Collective, Studio 55, and The Hamilton Gallery. Year-round.

Locust Point

Population: 2,138 Median home price: $292,500 Own-to-rent ratio: 70.8 to 29.2 percent Miles from downtown Baltimore: 2.7

Locust Point, the neighborhood once home to dock workers and their families, still has the industrial feel with its waterfront factories and Formstone houses. But, while the South Baltimore ’hood (with Lawrence Street to the west and the Patapsco River to the north, south, and east) held onto its blue-collar roots longer than its nearby compatriots, it also has new developments making it extremely attractive to homebuyers. Of course, there’s the behemoth condo complex Silo Point with its 360-degree views, swanky residences, and upscale restaurants. There’s also the Locust Point Dog Park on the corner of Latrobe Park, which has fancy amenities like Astroturf, rock features, and a doggie waterslide. And there is the former Tide Point campus, which just got bought by Fortune 500 company Under Armour, and features a waterfront boardwalk for jogging or yoga. Plus, there’s a free water taxi service on weekdays from the promenade over to Fells Point. And one of the newest establishments is shopping center McHenry Row, featuring the innovative Harris Teeter, where people from all over the city come to grocery shop. But you can’t ignore Locust Point standbys like the quaint, windowless J. Patrick’s Irish Pub, which features live Irish music multiple nights a week. There’s also the neighborhood bistro (and cleverly named) Hull Street Blues Café, which started as a saloon in 1889 and has a fantastic Sunday brunch. And don’t count out sports bar City Limits with its huge shuffleboard table and fresh-squeezed orange crushes. Also, if you want to get quite the waterfront vista (including the Under Armour and Domino Sugar signs), you should crack open some crabs on the roofdeck of L.P. Steamers. For the kids, there is spacious Latrobe Park with its tulip-lined pathways and large gated playground—–and they can cool off by visiting “Miss Twist,” who drives her turquoise ice-cream truck around the neighborhood delivering sweet treats. And lastly, while it’s no secret, the proximity to nearby Fort McHenry is an added bonus for any history buff.

Events:

Community Yard Sale, Find all the tchotchkes and antiques you want at the neighborhood’s annual yard sale in Latrobe Park. June 2, 8 a.m.-12 p.m.

Federal Hill Jazz & Blues Festival, in nearby Federal Hill, will feature more than 12 bands on two stages, as well as arts and crafts, food vendors, and kid games. June 3, 11 a.m.-7 p.m.

Star-Spangled Sailabration, the weeklong celebration to mark the War of 1812’s bicentennial, features many events in Locust Point, including an air show, public ship tours, and concerts and fireworks at Fort McHenry. June 13-19. starspangled200.com.

Remington

Population: 2,458 Median home price: $106,000 Own-to-rent ratio: 48.6 to 51.4 percent Miles from downtown Baltimore: 2.6

Those whose only pass through Remington on their way to or from I-83 are missing out. Bounded on the west by Sisson Street, the south by 21st Street, the east by N. Howard Street, and the north by Wyman Park, the ‘hood is a bastion of blue-collar Baltimore. In recent years though, Remington has been embraced by younger generations, eager to repurpose its vacant industrial spaces for their own artistic and altruistic functions. Perhaps the most notable example of this is Charm City Cakes, the bakery made famous on the Food Network’s Ace of Cakes reality show, filmed at its 6,000-square-foot compound at the corner of Remington Avenue and W. 30th Street. Across the street is one of Baltimore most-beloved bars, The Dizz, which sells Charm City Cakes merchandise for the tourists but lures locals with its excellent bar food and unpretentious atmosphere. The New Wyman Park Restaurant—–which is not new and actually a diner—–is similarly down to earth, while the neighborhood’s other diner, the Papermoon, ups the quirk-factor with its eclectic décor and menu. Locavores love the new Baltimore Food Co-op, which carries local produce and national brands like Annie’s Naturals and Kashi. For gluten-free goodies hit up bakery Sweet 27, and complement your guilt-free dessert with organic coffee or tea from Charmington’s, where the baristas can top your cup with milk-foam designs. Charmington’s is also notable for its location on the ground floor of Miller’s Court, an old tin-can factory renovated into state-of-the-art office, retail, and living spaces. Apartments are available to Baltimore-area schoolteachers at discounted rents, and office space is leased to nonprofits such as Teach for America and Playworks. But Remington hasn’t gone soft. Just across the street from Miller’s Court is the Ottobar, the city’s stalwart rock club that’s never met a mohawked musician it didn’t welcome. We just wonder what the punks think about the soon-to-be-built 25th Street Station shopping center, which will be anchored by, yes, a Wal-Mart.

Events:

As of June, the Baltimore Streetcar Museum is open both Saturday and Sunday from 12-5 p.m. Regular admission is $7 and includes unlimited rides on original Baltimore streetcars.

Wyman Park Dell will be ground zero for this year’s Charles Village Festival featuring live music, a 5K race, and a block party. June 2-3. The Ottobar hosts Insubordination Fest 2012, three days of prime underground punk, pop-punk, and power pop. June 21-23.

Sparks

Population: 5,544, Median home price: $559,000*, Own-to-rent ratio: 76.5 to 23.5 percent, Miles from downtown Baltimore: 17.6 (*Sparks median home price courtesy of Krauss Real Property Brokerage)

Sparks is a perfect slice of Maryland countryside in central Baltimore County. Though the community’s borders are somewhat amorphous, it is generally accepted that it encompasses land within a two-mile radius of I-83 north of Hunt Valley and south of Route 138/Monkton Road. It is an area of considerable natural beauty with rolling pastures sloping down to the winding Gunpowder River along which the 20-mile Torrey C. Brown Trail (aka the NCR trail) meanders, offering hiking, biking, horseback riding, and fishing. Before casting your line, stop by Great Feathers for your rods and reels and to ask the fly fishermen on staff what’s biting. Drive along Belfast, Sparks, and Lower and Upper Glencoe Roads for good views of the many working and gentlemen’s farms that dot the landscape. Make sure to swing through the Oldfields School campus, a picturesque all-girls private high school with a stellar equestrian program. Sparks also boasts the U.S. headquarters of sportswear giant FILA as well as offices of McCormick & Company. This combination of rusticity and sophistication is reflected in the neighborhood’s two main restaurants. First, there’s The Filling Station, an old gas station turned coffee shop serving delicious soups, salads, and sandwiches during the day. Then, there’s The Milton Inn, which offers fine dining housed in a circa 1740 fieldstone Colonial that was once an all-boys school whose pupils included John Wilkes Booth. During the summer, locals relax at Basignani Winery, a family-run vineyard that hosts frequent events.

Events

The MAC Half Marathon & Two-Person Relay takes over the NCR trail on May 19.

Basignani Winery has outdoor movie nights (including wine tasting and popcorn!) May 25, June 8 and 22, July 6 and 13, and August 3, 24, and 31.

Kids ages 6-12 will explore the Gunpowder River at Stream Search/Aquatic Exploration on June 23, 9-11 a.m.

West Annapolis

Population: 734 Median home price: $737,200 Own-to-rent ratio: 74.6 to 21.3 percent Miles from downtown Baltimore: 25.4*
*West Annapolis statistics courtesy of kcookehomes.com.

The New Annapolis

If you can’t afford to take that big trip this spring or summer, think about sticking closer to home with the ultimate “staycation” in Annapolis, only a half-hour drive away. Now more than ever, our state capital has exciting things going on. Here are just a few:

Test Your Luck
The first phase of Maryland Live! Casino at Arundel Mills—–which will feature 4,750 slot and electric table games, like blackjack, roulette, craps, and poker—–is scheduled for completion in June.

Wine and Dine
Wine bars are all the rage in the Annapolis area this year. Red Red Wine Bar on Main Street is a tough table to get with its funky, bohemian design. And Vin 909 in Eastport takes an organic, seasonal approach with its ever-changing menu.

Getting Around
Naptown went pretty green last summer with the introduction of two car-free ways to get around. Electric-bike shop Green Pedals moved to West Annapolis last summer. Also, the town’s new City Circulator trolley trots people from the various shops and restau-rants, all for $1 a ride.

Set Up Shop
The gargantuan Annapolis Towne Centre seems like it keeps expanding, but that doesn’t stop boutique shops and eclectic stores from making their mark—–everything from Poppy and Stella and Urban Chic to Paper Source and Charm City Run.

The peninsula northwest of downtown Annapolis has started to have an identity all its own. Separating itself from the preppy, naval stereotypes of the state capital, West Annapolis is a tiny, bohemian community. The hippie vibe is evident in the establishment of wellness centers like Ridgely Retreat, which offers advanced spa treatments, yoga and dance classes, and acupuncture. There is also West Annapolis Art Works, which has framing services and an eclectic gallery of pieces, like waterview paintings, political cartoons, and African sculptures. And, if you’re so inspired, there is supply store Art Things, stationery shop Pris’ Paper, and Tara’s Gifts for kitschy presents and party décor. For a quick bite, there’s the eco-friendly b.b. bistro, which uses only local and seasonal ingredients. For potent margaritas and huge portions, try Mexican Café. There’s also Regina’s Restaurant which features unlikely, but welcome, German cuisine. There are plenty of places to go antiquing in this small community, like Bon Vivant Antiques, which specializes in online sales, and West Annapolis Antiques, which features jewelry and furniture from estate sales. Spending a day browsing the shops along Annapolis Street makes you feel like you’re in a quaint New England town, instead of the heart of Maryland. But, of course, the Annapolis influence isn’t too far away as the Navy-Marine Corps Memorial Stadium is down the street and is jam-packed with football fans every fall. There are plenty of activities (and prime real estate) along the water, so many residents can be seen crabbing, kayaking, or sailing on the Severn River. The close-knit community seems like the best of many worlds—–a classic yet progressive small town with no shortage of things to do.

Events:

Cinco de Mayo is the town’s first celebration of this Mexican holiday. Look for margaritas and sangria, Latino music, and vendors selling their wares. May 5, 10 a.m.-5 p.m.

Paris Flea Market is a unique event where the town turns into a Parisian-style market, and they close off Annapolis Street and have residents buy a space and sell whatever old artifacts they want to get rid of. June 23, 8 a.m.-4 p.m.

Oktoberfest is the biggest West Annapolis event and will be celebrating its 22nd year. They close the street and have 140 vendors and feature German bands, beer, and food from Regina’s Restaurant. September 23, 10 a.m.-5 p.m.

There we were—the hubby and me—in the sonogram room at our obstetrician’s office waiting to see that little eight-week-old blob that would be our baby in 32 short weeks. The tech kept looking at the screen and moving the wand around my goopy belly. Finally, she uttered the words you never want to hear—especially from your sonographer—”How are you with surprises?”

Let’s take a pregnant pause for a little bit of background. Not too long ago, my husband Ron and I, happily married for six years, were the parents of two kids under the age of four, one big dog, and living in a cozy row house in the city. We had talked about maybe one day, down the road, possibly (if the stars aligned and we won the lottery), having a third baby. But weeks earlier, an anniversary trip to the Four Seasons in Washington, D.C., plus a forgotten birth control pill, had resulted in a missed period. Four days, a few glasses of wine, and a whole lot of denial later, I took a pregnancy test. Then I waited another eight hours to tell my husband.

For the next few weeks we let it sink in—yes, we were going to have another baby and we would make it work.

And then the bombshell. The tech turned the screen to face us and pointed out two little embryos. “Twins.” As in, not one more baby but two. As in, not a family of five but six. As in, our SUV wasn’t even going to cut it anymore.

My husband looked lovingly at me and then—never one to mince words—turned back to the tech and said, “Are you shitting me?” She was not. I went to the bathroom and stared into the mirror—my face a mix of elation and sheer terror.

The staff at the obstetric office was ecstatic. “We love twins around here,” one of the nurses told me. “What a miracle!” said another. Ron and I exchanged another look. Glad they were so excited about it.

The car ride home was a mix of hysterical laughter and blame. And then we didn’t speak about it for a few weeks.

Ron and I moved from D.C. into a two-bedroom row home in Canton in 2004, the fall after we got married. We figured we’d enjoy life as a childless couple for a while in an exciting new city. So much for our best laid plans. A little over a year later—the week I started my job as lifestyle editor of Baltimore magazine, coincidentally—I found out I was pregnant.

Our second bedroom, at the time an office/guest room, was promptly converted to a nursery, and Milo arrived in October 2006. In January 2009, Willa joined the family. When she was six months old, we moved Milo into a toddler bed, she got the crib, and the room sharing began. No big deal. Sure, our family room had slowly lost the good (i.e., hazardous) objects—no more glass coffee table with deathtrap edges, trinkets, and a big bowl of matchbooks—and we had to buy things like outlet covers and gates for our stairs. And yes, our rooms were taken over with their stuff—bins of toys, a baby swing, a high chair, and a playmat. Still, manageable.

But four kids in a two-bedroom row house sounded like the makings of a reality show. (My working titles? Janelle & Ron Lose Their Minds. Or Diamonds in the Rough. Not as catchy as Jon & Kate Plus Eight—but hopefully a happier ending.)

“Who has four kids anymore?” Ron kept asking me. I would mention a friend of a friend. “They have three kids,” he retorted. Right.

It got better once we told family, although we did it in a sneaky way. We put Willa in a “Big Sister” T-shirt at the beach and waited to see who noticed.

“Wait, what is Willa wearing?” my sister finally asked.

“A baby?” squealed my aunt.

Actually, two.

We sent out an e-mail to friends in mid-August: Well, we have some news. We are expecting a baby this winter. And another one. Yes, TWINS. Yes, we’re still in shock-and-awe mode. Yes, we realize we need a minivan. Yes, we are aware we’ll never eat out again. We just started our second trimester. We saw both babes last week—and two good heartbeats. Holy crap.

The responses flooded in with lots of exclamation points and all caps. Friends without kids would squeal, “TWINS!!!!!!! WOWOWOW. So cool.” Friends with kids would say, “Oh, wow. Are you okay?” We became an urban legend: Trying for one more baby? First, let me tell you about my friend Janelle. . . .

The weeks started to fly by. Soon it was fall. My belly was growing. At 20 weeks, Baby A and Baby B became two boys. I felt great. I’ve always had easy pregnancies. This one was only slightly different. I was hungry constantly the first trimester, felt great the second trimester, and started to expand greatly the third. We saw the boys every four weeks via sonogram to make sure they were growing at the same rate (they were) and that my body was happy (it was). During one of the appointments, the boys were head to head—already plotting against us. I was constantly being kicked and punched by eight limbs. We put our house on the market, with no success (if anyone is interested in a well-loved two bedroom in Canton, call me), and made lists of what we needed.

At what ended up being my last doctor’s appointment before I delivered, I was measuring roughly 16 weeks “bigger” than what I actually was. Sleeping became a chore—between my girth and heartburn, I was up constantly. My last pregnant week, I had my spring fashion photoshoot for the magazine. I had circled that date in my calendar, telling myself I just wanted to make it to that shoot. And I did. The following Saturday morning, my husband went into work and I was home with the kids. Around 8:30, I started getting some pain in my lower belly. I sat in my glider with my two-year-old on my lap (well, what was left of it), and slowly rocked. I knew what was happening, but was in denial. Was I ready? It was January 22—one day short of 36 weeks.

Just before 2 p.m., Zeke Gray entered the world weighing a respectable 5 pounds, 14 ounces. And a minute later, his little brother Gideon Levi, two ounces lighter. They were healthy and perfect. Zeke looked just like his brother Milo had—a shock of black hair, little almond shaped eyes, and a look that said he wasn’t entirely happy with the situation. Gideon looked like Willa—a sweet face, a decent amount of hair, happy and content.

It’s been eight weeks since we became a family of six. We’ve all had several good cries. I’m exhausted—it’s hard to remember what sleeping more than a three-hour block feels like. I can now feed two babies at once, burp two babies at once, hold two babies at once, and apparently type while nursing and simultaneously rocking the other baby with my foot.

We’re in what can best be described as survival mode. We say yes to anyone who offers us anything—food, a sleepover for Milo, taking over carpools, holding babies, dog sitting. At times, I’ve been almost overwhelmed by all the generosity.

My big kids have adjusted amazingly. Milo likes to hold his brothers (briefly) and promises them his toys because “when they are bigger, I’ll be in college.” My daughter is now surrounded by three brothers (poor girl will probably never be able to date). She likes to show them her princess dresses. “Look, baby, look,” she’ll say, spinning. She thinks of them as her own personal dolls, pointing to one baby and saying, “Mommy, I want to hold that.” And she thinks they are both named Gideon.

Going out of the house with twins is hilarious. We’re like some sort of novelty act. You would think people would be used to twins (they’re not that rare), but no matter where we go—the supermarket, the mall, the park—they flock to our stretch-limo sized stroller. And so many questions. Are they twins? (Umm, yes.) Fraternal or identical? (Most definitely fraternal.) And are they from fertility treatments? (Not that it’s your business, but no.)

People keep calling me a super mom. But truthfully, I’m not sure what the alternative would be. To fall apart? Never leave the house? This is our new normal. It helps that I already had kids. I already knew how to feed a baby, change a diaper—it’s just learning to do it two at a time. Now it’s about the small victories—showering, surviving a night by myself with all four kids, making the house look like a minor bomb hasn’t gone off.

The babies now have little personalities. Zeke is the loudest baby I’ve ever encountered. He sleeps loud, eats loud, breathes loud. It’s like he has a microphone attached to his onesie. He has the most beautiful smile—already flashing it liberally at Mommy and Daddy—and his Great Grandma Stella’s gorgeous lips. Gideon is our well-mannered runt. Slightly smaller than his brother, he only cries when hungry or wet. He likes to mimic some of the noises his brother makes and has a beautiful face including fat little cheeks.

The other night, everyone was asleep. Milo and Willa in their room, Gideon in our room, Zeke and my husband on the couch. I should have crawled into bed to get some sleep before their 1 a.m. feeding, but instead I watched TV and ate a bowl of ice cream, relishing the quiet. It’ll be years before I have more than a few minutes of peace—so I may have to schedule some. Along with my husband’s springtime vasectomy.

What do you want from a child-care center? It’s probably a long list: You’re looking for a home away from home, a place that’s warm and relaxed, but orderly and efficient; nurturing and fun, but unfailingly devoted to molding little minds and preparing youngsters for the rigors of kindergarten and beyond. Of course, it must be secure—locked entries and vigilant staffers are the word of the day—safe, and clean. But not so much so that it feels institutional. It helps if there’s a highly educated and trained staff that’s been on board forever. And if it proves to be a place your child delights in attending—if he or she is bolting into the classroom, rather than clinging to your pant’s leg with a wimper—you’ll probably do a little jig as you walk out the door each morning.

Fortunately, as tall an order as it is, finding the perfect child-care center is not impossible. In fact, there’s no shortage of centers in the greater Baltimore area that offer just such an environment.

We scoured the area and turned up a host of fabulous providers, then narrowed our list to 12 we believe provide the very best in care. Read on to learn why they caught our eye.

Knowledge Beginnings

Where: Laurel Web: knowledgebeginnings.com Hours: 6:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m., after-school care and part-time care offered. Ages: Six weeks to 12 years. Fees: $269-$288 per week. Highlights: Offers staffers a tuition-assistance program; many staffers are working toward a CDA (child development associate) certification or degree. All staffers are also trained in CPR and first aid and the center is NAEYC (National Association for the Education of Young Children) accredited. Breakfast, lunch, and two snacks are included in the tuition.

Looks aren’t everything, of course, but it’s hard not to be impressed when you walk into the gleaming Knowledge Beginnings child-care center in Laurel, with its smartly polished hardwood flooring and its tastefully painted walls.

Classrooms circle a large central area that houses dedicated space for special subjects like art, science, and language and literacy instruction. It’s a clever setup that not only gives kids a nice time out of their classroom each day but also ensures that each of the main classrooms boasts plenty of natural light and direct access to the outdoors.

Other nice touches include infant, toddler, and two-year-olds’ rooms with two-way glass so parents can take a sneak peek at their little ones, plus a closed-circuit TV system that can serve a similar purpose. Inside the infant rooms, laminated pictures of the children adorn the floor, where tiny crawlers are most likely to see them. Food is labeled and color-coded to avoid any mix-ups and daily written reports to parents include more than just a recitation of diaper changes and feeding times.

The curriculum is play-based but preschoolers and pre-K students have some access to computers for educational use and can take advantage of optional “enrichment” programs in phonics, math, music, Spanish, science, and cooking.

Celebree Learning Centers

Where: Bel Air (plus 17 other locations in MD) Web: celebree.com Hours: 6:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m. Fees: $80-$230 a week. Ages: Six weeks to 12 years (for before- and after-school care), part-time care is available. Highlights: Most teachers hold bachelor’s degrees and all lead teachers have CPR and first aid training. Celebree also offers teachers financial assistance for career development. (In turn, it boasts a turnover of just 7 percent.)

It’s a gorgeous spring morning but all’s quiet in the infant room. Two staffers sit in padded gliders, each rocking a baby in her arms. (One has another infant bobbing lightly in a bouncer at her feet.) Nearby, two more little ones are fast asleep in their cribs.

 Elsewhere, the action is at full throttle. The toddlers have sunscreen on and are ready to conquer the playground, while their older peers gear up to tackle the playground equipment. In the preschool rooms, the three-, four- and five-year olds are in various stages of play.

Regardless of what they’re doing, each of the students—or “friends” as they’re called here—is almost certainly in the midst of a learning experience, says center director Shelby Logue, and that’s by design. In addition to using something called the Conscious Discipline program to teach social skills, Celebree uses another program, the Creative Curriculum, which centers on “purposeful play.”

Padonia Park Child Centers

Where: Cockeysville Web: padoniaparkclub.com Hours: 7 a.m. to 6 p.m., Mon. to Fri. Fees: From $939 per month for full-time care for four- and five-year-olds to $1,150 per month for infants. Ages: Six weeks to 12 years (for before- and after-school care for Pinewood Elementary students); part-time care is offered. Highlights: Preschool and pre-K staffers have bachelor’s degrees in early childhood education or family studies. The four-year-old and pre-kindergarten programs are accredited through MSDE. All staff are first-aid and CPR-qualified, exceeding the state mandate of one staffer for every 20 children.

When six-year-old Erica Gartland headed off to kindergarten earlier this year, she fell into the routine without missing a beat, says her mother, Kristen Gartland. “She entered kindergarten reading. She was prepared—she knew all the rules that you have in a structured program.”

And Erica knew one other valuable thing that many kindergartners don’t: “She’s an excellent swimmer,” says her mom. That’s mostly thanks to Padonia Park’s summer program, which includes eight weeks of daily swim lessons for all of its students over the age of three.

Located on the grounds of Padonia Park swim club, the child-care center not only has access to the pools, but also to three playgrounds and 30 leafy acres—perfect for nature walks and science activities.

So what goes on inside? Padonia has just started offering an infant program, although slots are filling up fast. For the older children, the focus, says director Cindy Carter, is on teaching independence, social skills, self-help skills, physical fitness, dealing with stress, and “academics.” Classrooms are run by experienced teachers and filled with opportunities for creative play. The result: children who are ready for school, and make a splash getting there.

College of Notre Dame of Maryland: A Child’s Place

Where: North Baltimore Web: ndm.edu/about/achildsplace Hours: 7:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m., Mon. through Fri. Ages: Three to six. Fees: From $920-$985 per month. Highlights: MSDE-accredited and seeking a Middle States accreditation. All teachers have college degrees in education or a related field.

Ask around about child care in northern Baltimore City and chances are you’ll be directed to A Child’s Place, which has an enduring word-of-mouth reputation as a high-quality early education center.

Turnover at the center, which is tucked away in the center of the College of Notre Dame’s campus, is low and the staff highly experienced. “Half the people here are grandparents, although we don’t look it,” says director Leslie Hinebaugh. But there’s also an infusion of youth, thanks to a work-study program that brings Notre Dame students in to help out. Notre Dame and Loyola University both use A Child’s Place as an observation and training site.

While there is plenty of play going on each day, the curriculum, which includes instruction in English language arts, social studies, science, math, Spanish, music, and art, is not play-based. Instead, as Hinebaugh says, “our program is a combination of academics and love.” That translates to lots of hands-on, one-on-one instruction.

Downtown Baltimore Child Care

Where: Downtown Baltimore (Its Park Avenue location will close in August, although its University Center location will remain open.) Web: dbcckids.org Hours: 7:30 a.m. to 6 p.m. (beginning Aug. 30, currently 7:30 a.m.-5:30 p.m.), part-time care available for all but infants. Ages: 12 weeks through pre-K. Fees: $1,049-$1,671 per month. Highlights: All staffers have taken infant and child CPR and first aid and are slated to take medication administration training this summer; many have or are working toward degrees.

You don’t really expect to hear the squeals of delight or the chatter of little voices here, in a space nudged up against the University of Maryland at Baltimore’s downtown campus. But behind the brown wooden fence on Arch Street, DBCC has carved out a little oasis of fun for the wee ones and built itself a strong reputation for high-quality care—so much so that it’s an approved trainer for the child care community.

How do they do it? First off, high child-to-staff ratios—in the infant rooms, for example, it’s 2.25:1, compared to a state mandated 3:1. And the facility itself is thoughtfully designed to spur imaginations and engage even the tiniest tykes. DBCC’s 8,000-square-foot playground—divided into a grassy clearing for picnicking and story time, an infant/toddler yard, and a preschool area—offers plenty of time for active play.

But what really defines DBCC may be its philosophy, which is heavy on learning-through-play. The center shies away from rote memorization, as well as screen time. “We have a TV and VCR, although I think it is circa 1982,” jokes executive director Margo Sipes.

Bryn Mawr Little School

Where: North Baltimore Web: brynmawrschool.org Hours: 7:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m., Mon. through Fri. Fees: Full-time for ages three to five is $16,000 for 10 months; limited part-time hours available. Ages: eight weeks to six years. Highlights: Lunch and snacks included in tuition. Great staff-to-child ratios, beautiful facility on a leafy, private-school campus; most teachers have a bachelor’s degree in education (several have graduate degrees). MSDE and AIMS (Association of Independent Maryland Schools) accredited.

When the three teachers in Bryn Mawr Little School’s four-year-old group wanted to reinforce their pupils’ understanding of the alphabet, they could have passed out photocopies and let the drilling begin. Instead, they had the 24 children lie on the floor in groups of three or four and curl their bodies into the shape of each letter. In the end, the class had an inventive series of letter-shaped photos to display in the Little School’s annual art show. “They had such fun with it. And it’s more experiential and meaningful to them,” says director Pat Wells Sheridan. “They all remember exactly which letters they were.”

It’s a good example of the Little School’s hands-on approach, which offers plenty of “planned experiences in all areas of development and learning,” says Sheridan. Of course, there’s also lots of free time, which can take place outside on two roomy, shaded playgrounds or inside, in a first-rate facility that boasts sunny rooms and educational materials strategically placed where children can reach them with little adult intervention.

Being on the K-12 campus also has its benefits: Little School students interact with the big kids and Bryn Mawr’s cafeteria provides a hot lunch for Little School students and teachers, who dine together, family-style.

Play and Learn

Where: Hunt Valley (and other locations) Web: playandlearnmaryland.org Hours: 7 a.m. to 6:30 p.m.; part-time care available for all but infants. Fees: $194-$226 per week. Ages: Six weeks through kindergarten. Highlights: Not-for-profit, working toward MSDE accreditation; all teachers participate in the MSDE credentialing program.  

It’s go time in the infant room at Play and Learn Hunt Valley. On the floor, one determined baby is working on his crawling skills. Nearby, two infants in cribs are just emerging from sleep and are showing signs that they’re ready to be picked up. And, separated by a small gate, an older infant is sitting in a chair nibbling some lettuce.

In the children’s rooms, there’s plenty to love, too. The curriculum is based on learning through play, and the daily journals follow the children through their years at Play and Learn. “It will go in their personal portfolio when they graduate from the program,” says program director Marina Eleni Maier. Not only do the journals help teachers and parents track progress, but “it’s a great gift to give to each of the parents as a keepsake,” she says.

Temple Oheb Shalom’s Learning Ladder

Where: Pikesville Web: templeohebshalom.org/lladder.htm Hours: 7 a.m. to 6 p.m., Mon. through Fri. Fees: From $886 per month for full-time care for three- and four-year-olds to $1,380 per month for full-time care for non-member infants; part-time care available for older children. Ages: 10 weeks to five years. Highlights: Working toward MSDE accreditation; participates in MSDE’s teacher credentialing program.

If you hear music coming from inside Oheb Shalom’s Learning Ladder, then it must be Wednesday morning. In the spacious multi-purpose room, music teacher Becky Gordon is strumming a guitar while she and eight three-year-olds sing “Boker Tov.” (That’s Hebrew for “good morning.”)

Like the rest of the center, the room is decked out in primary colors and looks thoroughly pre-school, but the real focus here is on learning, which is done in a play-based, non-academic environment. And while not all of its children are Jewish, if you’re interested in having your kiddo learn about Jewish culture and possibly pick up a little Hebrew, you’ll find ample opportunity here.

La Petite Academy 

Where: Towson Web: lapetite.com Hours: 6:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m. Ages: Six weeks through five years. Fees: $185-$230 per week. Highlights: In the process of obtaining National Early Childhood Program Accreditation (NECPA). Breakfast, snack, and lunch are included.

For anyone eager to take an active role in shaping their child’s day-care environment, there’s nothing more satisfying than seeing parents’ suggestions embraced by those in charge. At La Petite, “they want parents to bring their creativity to the table,” says Lori Hardesty, whose nine-month-old and three-year-old attend La Petite. “And they give us great support to make it happen.”

Case in point: A fellow parent’s suggestion that the center institute a “Special Person” day, in which students can invite an adult friend or relative to spend time in the classroom. Shortly after the idea was presented to the parent board, center director Emily Sweet was hard at work bringing the plan to life.

In fact, thanks to Sweet and others at the center, La Petite, which is located on the campus of GBMC, manages to create a tight-knit community of families “where everyone seems to know everybody and the teachers and staff know all the kids, even if they’re not the primary teacher,” says Hardesty.

As a parent—Sweet’s own two-year-old is a student here—”just watching my child in her classroom, I really see the teachers incorporating our philosophy, which is learning through play.”

The Learning Tree Preschool & Child Development Center

Where: Annapolis Web: learningtreecdc.net Hours: 7 a.m. to 6 p.m. Fees: From $189/week for three- and four-year-olds to $300/week for infants. Ages: Six weeks to four-and-a-half years. Highlights: All staffers have CPR and first aid training; 50 percent of the staff has medication-administration training; the center is accredited by NAEYC (National Association for the Education of Young Children) and has a MSDE-approved preschool. All staffers take part in the MSDE credentialing program and many either have or are pursuing a degree.

When Lee and Cecelia Pfeffer left the world of public school education in 1984, they didn’t stray too far. Instead, they combined their learning know-how—he had 13 years of teaching experience; she had 17—and opened the Learning Tree, first in their home and

later in an Burtonsville office park. Sixteen years later, they’ve expanded from an original capacity of 17 children to 88, and added a second location in Annapolis that is run by two of their children, both of whom have degrees in early education.

For the older kids, there are formal(ish) school hours from 8:30 a.m. to noon and then 3 to 4:30 p.m. But The Learning Tree follows a play-based philosophy, so what you won’t find here are three- and four-year-olds sitting at desks and tackling endless worksheets. What you will find: a child-first environment and a focus on continual improvement.

“You know that old saying about not being able to teach an old dog new tricks?” asks Learning Tree vice president Lee Pfeffer. At Learning Tree, the pressure’s on the old dogs to learn those new tricks.

By August 2011, for example, all child-care centers must comply with new regulations requiring at least one staffer per center to take medication-administration training. “We already have 10,” notes Pfeffer. “And we started two years ago.”

Step-by-Step Children’s Learning Center

Where: Sparks Web: stepbystepclc.com Hours: 7 a.m. to 6 p.m. Fees: Full-time care ranges from $230 per week for four- and five-year-olds to $310 per week for infants; part-time care is available. Ages: Six weeks to six years, plus before- and after-school care for kindergarteners (with bus service to Sparks Elementary). Highlights: The director has a master’s degree in early education, several teachers have degrees (one also went to Ringling Bros. and Barnum and Bailey Clown College, which surely comes in handy with the six-and-under set), and others are pursuing degrees. All staffers have first aid and CPR training; infant teachers are certified in Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) training. Breakfast, lunch, and snacks included in tuition.

If it’s 2 p.m. on a weekday afternoon, it’s most likely quiet at Step-by-Step, save for some gentle music floating through each of the center’s rooms. Nap time! But while the kiddies rest, the center’s teachers are in high gear, cleaning up—with eco-friendly products—and returning their rooms to order, ready for an afternoon of learning through play.

Whether they’re outside on the spacious playground or indoors in one of the center’s eight classrooms, kids here have no shortage of ways to keep busy. Learning is both structured and free-form and includes language, art, music, math, phonics, Spanish, computer classes, Rebounders (for gymnastics), cooking, and science. The curriculum is “constantly refreshed to reflect the latest trends in teaching techniques,” says center director Gabrielle Frizzera-Flowers, who opened Step-by-Step 10 years ago and whose two children attend.

The business has grown beyond Frizzera-Flowers’s expectations—her original “great room” is now a classroom for five-year-olds. That’s a good sign, but also means there’s usually a waiting list—six months or more for older children; a year for younger children.

St. Paul’s Plus

Where: Brooklandville Web: stpaulsplus.org Hours: 7:30 a.m. to 6 p.m. Fees: From $915 a month for part-time infant care to $13,950 annually for four-year-olds. Ages: Six weeks to five years. Highlights: All lead teachers have a bachelor’s degree, while assistants have at least 90 hours’ training, plus experience. Infant and toddler staff have an additional 45 hours of training.

It’s 10:30 a.m. on a Tuesday and a tiny army of infants are strapped into their triple strollers. On another day, they might just sit contentedly while their teachers take them for a stroll on St. Paul’s gorgeous campus. (The center, which is co-ed, is owned and operated by St. Paul’s School for Girls.) But today they’re headed for the girls’ school’s playing fields, where they’ll roll around on a blanket or crawl on the grass. Later, they’ll head back for a snack and maybe a nap and some tummy time on a soft rug. Not a bad way to spend a day.

 And their slightly older peers have it pretty good, too. The center’s physical surroundings are first-rate, with a setup that’s orderly and well-planned and boasts lots of natural light and room to move. There’s also a robust curriculum that is “hands-on and experiential,” says director Isabel Nussbaumer. To help develop social skills, teachers use the same Conscious Discipline program employed by Celebree. And the regular school day includes time with teachers in French, Spanish, science, music, and the library, as well as visits from instructors in Abrakadoodle (for art) and Rebounders (for gymnastics). For an extra fee, parents can enroll children in afternoon activities like soccer, computers, and dance. There is a kitchen for cooking projects, a multipurpose room for indoor play, and a library.

*Some names and details have been changed to protect privacy.

“Stop right there, ma’am!”

Helen Atkins* hadn’t even noticed the police cruiser that pulled up as she put her son Robert in his car seat outside the Wal-Mart in Aberdeen. She was rushing to pick up another son, Zachary, from a friend’s house. Bewildered, she asked “What’s going on?”

“We had a report of a missing child in the area,” the officer said, clearly unsure how to proceed. “Um, is that your child? Do you have some way to show that child came with you?”

Atkins, a former police officer herself, demanded to know why she was being questioned. But secretly she knew. It wasn’t the first time people had questioned her relationship with Robert. Atkins is African-American and Robert is white. It was, however, the first time she had been questioned by police.

“A lady thought you were kidnapping this child at the store,” one officer said sheepishly, adding that the onlooker was moved to call the police when she saw Atkins rushing to the car with Robert.

Her face flushed with frustration, Atkins showed the officers her identification and Robert’s passport, but even then, the other officer was suspicious. “Well, you must’ve done something to make that lady think that,” he said.

Several months after the incident, sitting in her home in the Arcadia section of Northeast Baltimore, Atkins still shakes her head at the memory. “It’s hard,” she says. “After a while, you just get tired of explaining, constantly having to prove yourself.”

As she talks, Robert, a smiley blond boy who will turn two in August, flits around the room, moving from the toy cars to the stroller to the kitchen, frequently stopping to bury his head in his mom’s lap. He has lived with her since he was three days old.

“Robert was drug-exposed,” says Atkins, 44. “Heroin, Vicodin, alcohol—if there was a drug, [his mother] had it.”

For several years before Robert was born, Atkins and her husband had been taking in foster children, usually only for a few weeks at a time, until a family member agreed to take in the child or a more permanent home could be found. Atkins’s parents had taken in foster children when she was young, and when her own biological children had grown, she decided to do the same. After a while, Atkins, who also worked as a special-education teacher, decided to only take in drug-exposed children.

“Drug-exposed children are either real quiet or they constantly cry in pain because they’re coming off drugs and they have the tremors,” she says. “Robert was a screamer.”

In the days after Atkins took him in, Robert had to go back to stay in the hospital for further treatment. “He had to have morphine for a while to come over it,” says Atkins, who slept by his hospital bedside for five nights as he endured withdrawal symptoms. “His bottom was burnt from the drugs coming out, so he didn’t have a Pamper on. He had to be in this little bubble with this contraption blowing air on him. When he came home there was a lot of salve and cleaning, keeping that area clean and dry. It took six or seven months to fully recover.”

Robert’s biological mother has been in and out of drug-treatment programs since his birth and is facing a criminal hearing in June. “She said ‘I don’t think I’m gonna be able to do it,'” recalls Atkins, who sees Robert’s biological mother during occasional visits. “She said, ‘You keep him and just let me see him.’ And I said, ‘As long as you’re doing well.'”

Although Robert’s mother wants Atkins to adopt her son—and Atkins is eager to adopt him—Baltimore’s Department of Social Services has delayed adoption proceedings, hoping the biological mother will get clean and change her mind or that another relative can be found. Typically, foster children are not supposed to be in a “unification plan”—working toward reunification with birth parents—for more than 15 months, but Robert has been in such a plan for almost two years.

Atkins says the adoption is being held up because of her race.

“With Robert, they told me up front, ‘Don’t get too attached, ’cause we try to place children in culturally-based homes,'” says Atkins. “But that’s not a concern with African-American kids at all.”

Atkins has had more than 27 foster children come through her home and has adopted two, both African-American. She is also on the executive committee of the Baltimore City Resource Parent Council, a foster-parent advocacy group. She says she has never seen as much effort put into rehabilitating a birth mother or finding a relative as she has seen with Robert.

“They have fought us tooth and nail,” she says. “We had a lawyer who told us right off the bat, ‘He needs to be with a white family, someone that will know his needs.’ I said, ‘You don’t know anything about me,’ and I asked her to leave my home.”

Molly McGrath, the director of Baltimore’s Department of Social Services, says the priorities when placing children in foster care are different than they are for adoption.

“The federal regulations prohibit me from using race as a factor in decision-making when I place a child into foster care,” she says. “But they don’t prohibit me from taking race, ethnicity, that sort of thing, into account when I do an adoption.”

For foster care, she says, the importance is speed, getting children into safe homes as quickly as possible, regardless of race. But for adoptions, there are other considerations.

“Some adoptive families say, ‘You know what, I actually want the kid to look like me,’ because of how they feel when they’re walking down the street. Or they say, ‘I’m in a Muslim home and I’m interested in opening my home to a Muslim child,'” she says. “I have an ethical obligation to [see if] a child can be raised in its own race, ethnicity, culture, spiritual practice. Adoption, since it’s a permanent sort of thing, we use factors like that.”

But Atkins says that, in trying so hard to find adoptive parents with the same background, case workers often ignore what’s in the best interests of the child. She cites the case of an African-American friend and fellow foster parent who has an eight-year-old white girl she has raised since birth. The city, however, has kept the girl in a “reunification” plan, and when an aunt the girl had never met recently stepped forward, they allowed her to have custody for short periods to prepare for a potential adoption.

“When she comes back from the visits, she has regressed so much, she wets her pants, she’s not doing well in school—everything is a complete turnaround,” says Atkins, again shaking her head. “It’s just so sad.” Some case workers, she adds, won’t place white children in black homes, even for foster care, knowing that judges and administrators will try to move the child out.

“Some workers in the agency will tell you upfront, ‘I’m not going to place this white child with you because I don’t feel like going through the paperwork to move him,'” says Atkins. “‘Because they’re not gonna let you keep that child.'”

Despite the many bureaucratic obstacles, some black families have adopted white children. But the challenges do not end with the change in legal context.

Mark and Terri Riding and Terri’s mother Phyllis Smith—all African-American—have been raising Katie O’Dea-Smith, a 10-year-old white girl, since she was three. Smith officially adopted O’Dea-Smith three years ago.

Katie, a precocious redhead, spends weekdays with Smith in Mt. Washington, and spends many weekends, holidays, and vacations with the Ridings, who live around the corner and have two young children of their own.

“It’s kind of a collective family unit and we’re all raising her together,” says Mark Riding, an administrator at The Johns Hopkins University’s Talented Youth Program.

Like Helen Atkins, Phyllis Smith, a social worker and onetime president of the Baltimore Chapter of the National Association of Black Social Workers (NABSW), had taken in foster children for years. When her biological daughter Terri was in high school, Smith adopted twin boys and raised them to adulthood. Seven years ago—at this point, she was in her late 50s and wasn’t expecting to take in any more children—the social services department contacted her and asked if she would take in a three-year-old girl with some behavioral issues who had been bounced around a bit. She said yes.

“I was telling her it was a mistake, she didn’t need to be doing this at her age,” says Mark, who had married Terri only a month earlier. “Then, this little redheaded girl pops down the steps—she hadn’t even told me she was white.”

Katie, whose mother hasn’t had contact with her daughter in years, wooed her new family. “She was very personable, extraordinarily articulate for her age,” he says. “She was a hit.”

But soon, the family began to notice the way people looked at them when they walked around holding Katie’s hand. Strangers often assumed Smith or Terri were babysitters, but they were particularly suspicious of Mark. One day, when he took her to Federal Hill Park, complete strangers came up to her and asked her if she was okay.

“Clearly, if you were stealing the child, you wouldn’t take her to the park,” says Mark. He’s able to make light of the situation now, but at the time, he found it very unsettling. “I’m walking down the street holding hands with her, walking in the mall, and people are giving us funny looks—and not just looks of curiosity, but looks of concern. Occasionally they’ll say something to me, but not usually. Usually they look at her as if to let her know that she has an audience, an ‘I’m here if you need me’ kind of look.”

Riding was most disconcerted, however, with the reactions of friends and colleagues. “People would say, ‘There wasn’t like an aunt or somebody who could take care of her?’ It was like ‘anybody but you,'” he says. “You would not ask that question if it was a little black baby with a white family or a little Asian baby with a white family.”

“I worked at the Park School, which is a very liberal place,” he says. “And the same questions came from those folks as came from more conservative places.”

Riding says the experience caused him to rethink his attitudes towards racism and prejudice. “I was always less apt to blame things on prejudice,” he says. “It forced me to be more conscious that the liberal, educated world is not as unprejudiced as I made it out to be. I thought we were beyond certain things and it wasn’t that way.”

Since the election of Barack Obama, there has been a lot of talk about America entering a “post-racial” phase, but Atkins and Riding’s experiences have caused them to rethink how much attitudes about race have changed. Riding was particularly surprised by the reaction of neighbors in his relatively affluent, largely white neighborhood.

“I’m an educator, I drive a Volvo and I live in Mt. Washington, my wife is a human resources professional, we’re professional people—it doesn’t get any more middle class,” he says. “It’s insulting that people would make so many assumptions based on whatever cultural biases they have.”

Savannah Gibbons was two years old when her older brother was taken to the hospital covered with insect and rodent bites and skin infections. He died days later. In a subsequent search of the family’s home, Child Protective Services found piles of garbage, feces on the floor, and generally unhealthy conditions. They removed Savannah, who is white, from the home and placed her with foster mother Shant’e Gibbons, an African-American day-care provider in East Baltimore.

“When she first came here, she didn’t talk at all—it was about a week and a half before she started responding to me,” says Gibbons, who has taken in a handful of foster children over the years. “The thing that surprised me the most is that she never once cried out for her mother or father. Not once.”

Gibbons grew very attached to Savannah, who she describes as very smart and emotionally intuitive. About two years after she took the girl in, Gibbons legally adopted her. Now five years old, Savannah is in pre-kindergarten at East Baltimore’s William Paca Elementary School, where, Gibbons says, she gets great grades and has lots of friends.

Gibbons says she didn’t come under as much scrutiny as Atkins, who she knows through the Resource Parent Community, partially because Savannah’s parents divorced soon after she was taken from them and they turned over rights to her soon after that. Gibbons says she was also encouraged by the African-American lawyer handling her case.

“He said, ‘This may take a while, but that’s okay, don’t worry about it,'” she says. “I figured if it was meant to be, it would happen.”

Gibbons says she and her extended family have always treated Savannah like a member of the family, and that Savannah loves all of her aunts and cousins. The only negative encounter Gibbons has had happened recently when a school crossing guard she usually sees while walking with Savannah, saw her alone and asked, “Where’s whitey?”

“That really hurt me,” she says, adding that the crossing guard probably thought Savannah was a student in her day care center. “To hear her defined like that.”

By far, the most common type of interracial adoption is white families adopting non-white children, and the subject of white families adopting black children in particular has been the subject of major debate and controversy. The National Association of Black Social Workers described the practice as “cultural genocide.”

Onetime NABSW executive director Leora Neal has explained, “If you don’t practice your culture, it dies out,” she says. “It is not a color issue. It’s a culture issue.”

According to researchers Owen Gill and Barbara Jackson, such interracial adoptions are condemned because of “fears . . . the child will feel different and unaccepted, that he will not be able to create and maintain relationships with grandparents and extended family members, and that the child will be unable to relate to members of the black community.”

Even Mark Riding, who has come to love his adopted daughter Katie, says the same concerns apply to white children adopted by black families.

“A lot of people, myself included, think it’s probably healthier and easier if the cultures match,” he says. “Certainly it’s easier for everybody involved. You don’t have complicated questions. You don’t have the challenges of trying to explain a race that you’re not a part of, or a culture you’re not a part of, and you don’t have a child with identity issues, trying to figure out, ‘Why don’t I look like or act like or smell like or does my hair look different than the people I live with?'”

But ultimately, Mark says, Katie will benefit from being raised by a black family. “When she is an adult, looking back on her experience living with a black family, I think she’ll feel informed and she’ll have a better understanding of what black families are all about,” he says, adding that, now, Katie generally avoids the topic of race altogether, preferring not to identify people by their race. “I don’t think right now she understands that. I think she does her best to kind of ignore [race].”

Similarly, Savannah doesn’t seem to notice the difference between herself and her family. And Gibbons points out that if the adoption guidelines were enforced absolutely, she would never have been able to be Savannah’s mom, a relationship that she says has given them both a tremendous amount of joy.

“It’s not about color, it’s about love and guidance,” says Gibbons, who says she especially loves playing music with Savannah and recently arranged for her to take guitar lessons from one of the parents at her day care center. “I could see myself starting a band with her,” she says, laughing at the thought. “Maybe, like, when she’s 10.”

Hall of Famer Cal Ripken Jr. debated with Mama Ripken over whose eyes were bluer. Ace of Cakes’ Duff Goldman curled up on a sofa and playfully placed his head in his mother’s lap. Fox 45’s Jennifer Gilbert read potty-training passages from her mother’s diary, and Governor Martin O’Malley and his mom tussled over how often he keeps in touch.

To mark Mother’s Day, we checked in with some of Baltimore’s best-known citizens and the remarkable women who raised them. As Duff Goldman put it, “If my mother was a cake, she would be a seven-tiered wedding cake, and I would be a little cupcake sitting next to her.”

Jeffrey “Duff” Goldman & Jacqueline “Jackie” Winch
Photographed at Charm City Cakes Bakery, Baltimore

Duff Goldman’s childhood was a little sugar and a lot of spice.

“There was no middle ground,” says his mother, Jackie, a West Coast-based stained-glass artist. “I figured he’d either be a success or end up in jail.” Chimes in Duff, “I did both.”

To hear the star of Food Network’s Ace of Cakes and his mom tell it, Duff’s childhood was punctuated by a series of events including cracked-up cars, graffiti, and fisticuffs. “I always knew I’d be okay,” says Duff, who is known for his edible works of art, “but to the outward eye, people would think, ‘This kid is headed for disaster.'”

“I was very, very worried,” admits Jackie. “But I kept saying, ‘Duffy, one day you’ll find your passion.'”

With a hit TV show, a popular local band (Soihadto), and an upcoming book (Ace of Cakes: The Book)—not to mention a request to make birthday cakes for the Obama girls—Jackie revels in her son’s success.

“I watch every episode of Ace of Cakes at least three times,” she says.

“I have memorized some of the episodes; they are just incredible. I love the one where he is riding in a limo [to meet] Daniel Radcliffe. I still see him as a boy, and there he is on TV with Harry Potter!”

Still a boy, perhaps, but one now grown up enough to be able to send his mom on a cruise to Hawaii and splurge on her when he wants to. “I’ve put this poor woman through so much,” says Duff. “This is not spoiling or showering. It’s repayment that will never, ever be replaced—I don’t owe the bank, but for the rest of my life, I owe my mother.”

Governor Martin & Barbara O’Malley
Photographed at Maryland Government House, Annapolis

“The two things in our household that we’d never dream of skipping were an election and Mass,” says Maryland Governor Martin O’Malley, who attended a rally for former Democratic Presidential candidate Hubert Humphrey with his mother when he was just two. “My mother taught us that the only thing wrong with politics is that not enough good people get involved.”

The rich political environment of the O’Malley household—late father Tom was the U.S. Attorney for the District of Columbia; mom Barbara was a National Committee Woman for the Young Democrats from Indiana—made a lasting impression on Baltimore’s former mayor. “My parents raised us all to believe we could make a difference in this world and that we could help other people,” he says.

Whatever his endeavors, Barbara, who now works as an aide to Maryland Senator Barbara Mikulski, has always offered her oldest son support, from encouraging him to run for student council in his middle school days to dragging the family to watch his early performances with his Celtic rock band. (“We would sit at separate tables to make it look like there was a crowd,” she says with a laugh.) Her maternal support even extended to helping him get in some much-needed shut-eye on the bus during the last day of the 2006 election.

“By that time in the campaign, you are utterly and totally depleted, and you want nothing but to sleep,” says O’Malley.

Knowing that his mother would never let him sleep through a stop, he felt comfortable enough to nap. And she knew just how to wake him: “The bus driver would click on Springsteen’s ‘Land of Hope and Dreams,’ and mom would say, ‘It’s time to wake up!'” O’Malley recalls. Chuckles Barbara, “If I had just had a Bruce Springsteen record when he was little, it would have been a lot easier to wake him up.”

Jennifer & Grace Gilbert
Photographed at Jennifer’s two-bedroom apartment, Baltimore

February 3, 1968. I entered into this world at 8:09 and weighed 6 lbs., 10 oz., 20-inches long at the West Grove Community Memorial Hospital. A sunny day but rather cold.

So begins the first diary entry of Fox 45 weekday anchor Jennifer Gilbert, “ghost written” by her mother, Grace, in a small, blue leather journal. Today those diaries—one for each of Jennifer’s 41 years—are still going strong, though Jennifer (now the mother of 21-month-old Michael) assumed her own writing responsibilities when she turned 12. “I kept a diary from the day she was born,” says Grace, “and I gave them to her after Michael was born so that she can compare herself to him.”

Says Jennifer, “It really is incredible to have these. I’ve been following along my development with my son’s development—when I first crawled, when I said my first word.”

Although Jennifer juggles a demanding, high-profile job with being a wife and mother, the Emmy award-winning journalist still writes in a journal almost daily.

“Sometimes, when I’m just sitting on the set and there is nothing to do, I will make notes,” says Jennifer, an only child. “I hope it’s as meaningful to my son some day as my mother’s entries were to me.”

Grace has passed along other traditions to Jennifer, including baking Christmas cookies, making preserves from scratch, and taking hikes on the 36-acre grounds of the Chester County, PA farm where Jennifer grew up.

“Whenever life gets busy, my mom and I go on hikes together,” says
Jennifer. “Our closest times together have always been going for walks.”

Despite Jennifer’s success, Grace is proud that her daughter still makes family her number-one priority. “She has a great job,” says Grace, “but she has never forgotten what life is all about. She has kept her roots—family always comes first.”

Joyce J. & Elizabeth Talford Scott
Photographed at home, Baltimore

Joyce Scott sits in the living room of the Baltimore home she and her mother, Elizabeth, have shared for 33 years. This vibrant space, brimming with beaded baskets, African masks, and Mexican folk art, mirrors Joyce’s technicolor life as a world-renowned multimedia artist and educator. Elizabeth, an artist in her own right—her sense of beauty was born of a childhood spent picking cotton and living in a one-room South Carolina cabin with 12 siblings—was her daughter’s first art teacher.

“My mother was always making things prettier and artier,” recalls Joyce. “She didn’t just mend a hole in a towel or pillowcase, she made an appliqué. If there were a nick in your garment, she would embroider it or add beads to it. That came out of a place of not having and wanting to elevate her environment.”

Elizabeth always encouraged her daughter’s artistic endeavors, even some of her more off-the-wall creations (such as a Hula Hoop Joyce once sewed into the hem of a skirt and wore to school). “My mom was always supportive of me,” says Joyce, “no matter how silly I was.”

When Joyce told Elizabeth that she wanted to pursue a career in art, “She taught me the quest to live a creative life—to always have flowers or a garden or to have the house painted or wallpapered in a different way,” recalls Joyce. “She taught me to not settle for the status quo or a less accomplished life.”

Although Elizabeth, 93, is now bedridden with dementia, Joyce—whose dining room has been converted into a bedroom she shares with her mother—is still learning from the woman she affectionately calls “pooty” (“Southern for fart,” Joyce cracks). “I was showered with love,” says Joyce. “Caring for my mother has brought out that side of me. Your heart opens up in a different way—it changes color. It is the easiest thing to give back.”

Hilary & Anne Hahn
Photographed at the Joseph Meyerhoff Symphony Hall, Baltimore

“When I was growing up, I always wanted to take lessons whether it was horseback riding, painting, or dance,” says Anne, mother of two-time Grammy-winning classical violin phenom Hilary Hahn, 29. “But my parents didn’t believe in giving [all those] lessons. I used to say, ‘When I have a child, they will get what I didn’t have!'”

True to her word, Anne enrolled her only child in swimming, ballet, and gymnastics. But it was upon registering Hilary in a Suzuki violin program at The Peabody Institute (one month shy of her fourth birthday) that her daughter found
her lifelong passion.

By age 10, Hilary showed so much promise that her father, Steve, gave up his career as a librarian, so that Hilary could attend Philadelphia’s famed Curtis Institute of Music. Anne, now controller of Baltimore Gas and Electric Company, continued to work full time, joining the rest of the family on weekends while fortifying her daughter and husband with big batches of homemade beef stew for the freezer of their Philadelphia apartment. The decision to let her daughter go to
Curtis was a difficult one.

“There was a lot of pressure to know I was making the right decisions for her,” says Anne. “We decided it was worth the risk.”

Cleary, it paid off. At 12, Hilary debuted as a soloist with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra (she will perform a newly commissioned concerto with them June 4-7). Today, she appears with orchestras all over the world.

“On the one hand, I am in awe of what she can do,” Anne says of her daughter. “But I’m so proud that she is an ordinary person who is kind and loves animals.” The admiration is mutual. “As time passes, I understand what my mom did for me,” says Hilary. “I can see how difficult it must be to be a parent and raise a child and feel like you’re doing it the right way. She has been an amazing mom and so great to have in my life.”

Cal Jr. & Violet “Vi” Ripken
Photographed on the Club Level of Cal Sr.’s Yard, Aberdeen

“Growing up, my mom was mom and dad,” says Hall of Fame baseball
player Cal Ripken Jr. “Baseball took my dad away from us.”

Vi accepted the rigors of rearing four children on her own as something that was
part and parcel of being married to a minor-league manager. “Our life was no different than someone who was a truck driver or someone who was in the service separated from their husband,” says Vi. “You just step up to the plate. I was the pinch hitter all the time.”

When Cal Sr. was on the road, Cal Jr. and his siblings often piled into the family car, and Vi drove great distances (including one trip as far away as South Dakota) to reunite the kids with their dad.

“Mom says you just do what you have to do, but certainly she kept us all together,” says Cal, now president and CEO of Ripken Baseball Group (which owns three minor-league baseball teams and runs youth camps, among other ventures). “We relied on each other a lot because we left the structure of friends back home and went to a new environment. We did everything together—we played cards, we laughed, we fought. Mom put us in bowling leagues and youth activities in different places, and, wherever we went, we invented a game of baseball based on our space.”

These days, the 48-year-old former shortstop and third basemen can’t go anywhere without exposure to adoring fans. But neither Cal nor Vi can make sense of all the adulation.

“It’s hard for me to understand why someone would be overjoyed with me,” says Cal who shattered Lou Gehrig’s record with 2,632 consecutive games and spent his entire 21-year career with the Orioles.

Adds Vi, “I know why I’m proud of him, but I don’t know what the fixation is. His job when he went into baseball was to play, to bat, and to field balls. His job was to work at getting better, but if he hadn’t achieved that greatness, it wouldn’t have meant anything less to me.”

Kevin & Jayne Plank
Photographed at his weekend retreat, Sagamore Farm, Hunt Valley

Kevin Plank learned his earliest business lessons from his mother, Jayne.

“I was the youngest of five,” says Kevin, who traveled with his mother for her work in the State Department and was frequently forced to mingle with the children of other elected officials. “I’d have to figure out how to walk up and say, ‘Hi, my name is Kevin.'” Says Jayne, who was also a four-term mayor of Kensington: “He has the same theory I have, which is that there are no strangers, just friends you haven’t met.”

Kevin also adopted his mother’s strong work ethic: While other kids slept in on a snowy day, he looked for ways to make money. “I’ve never been much of a sleeper,” says the 36-year-old sports apparel mogul, “so I’d shovel snow—10 dollars a driveway—and make a hundred bucks.”

In 1996, with little more than a bolt of compression fabric, Kevin began Under Armour in the basement of his grandmother’s Georgetown home. In the company’s first year, it made $17,000. Last year alone, the company’s net revenues totaled $725.2 million.

Not that the road to success was without hurdles: “Should I tell the story of coming home after one of your high school parties?” teases Jayne.

“You mean when you couldn’t find the rugs because I had rolled them up and sent them to the dry cleaner?” asks Kevin. (Yes, that story.)

“Well, I would have put them back, but I couldn’t afford the bill to pay for the cleaning,” Kevin confesses.

Today, Kevin can afford the dry cleaning bill and much more—Jayne proudly sports a stunning pair of turquoise earrings that he bought her. “Growing up, my mother was the most important person in my life,” says Kevin. “It wasn’t an athlete. It wasn’t Michael Jordan. It was my mom. She was always my inspiration and my idol.”

Mickey & Sandi Cucchiella
Photographed at the Perry Hall home of Mickey’s sister, Gina

Even before birth, Mickey Cucchiella made his mother, Sandi, smile. “I laughed through my entire pregnancy,” says Sandi. “When he was born, he was like, ‘Here I am world.’ He came out ready to go and has never stopped since.”

Though teachers found him charming, the 40-year-old host of 98 Rock’s Mickey, Amelia & Spiegel Show played the part of the disruptive class clown. “By third grade, it had gotten so bad that my teacher called my mom and said, ‘If you can get him to be quiet until the school day is almost over, during the last 20 minutes, I will let him come up and entertain the class,'” Mickey laughs. “I was getting 20 minutes of stand-up in third grade!”

Home life, however, was no laughing matter. Mickey’s mother had Hodgkin’s disease and by ninth grade, Mickey had called it quits in school. “I didn’t know why it mattered,” he says. “I knew what I wanted to do, and [school] was getting in my way.”

Laughter became Mickey’s medicine for the whole family. “He was my go-to-guy who had a calming effect on everybody,” recalls Sandi. “He had a way of making situations that were bad funny.”

Tough times only got tougher. In 2005, Sandi contracted an infection so serious that the family was told to make funeral arrangements.

Amazingly, Sandi recovered, but doctors had to amputate her hands and feet to save her life. Shortly after Sandi’s discharge from the hospital, Mickey got a gig performing stand-up to a sold-out crowd at The Hippodrome Theatre.

“It was the proudest moment of my career,” he says, “but I was worried my mom wasn’t going to make it. When I walked out on stage to a standing ovation, and my mom was in the first row of the balcony directly in front of me, I remember thinking, ‘This is the greatest moment of my life.'”

While some of the area’s top chefs are laboring over ambitious presentations like saffron-poached sea scallops and red-wine-braised veal cheeks, they often experience pangs for more familiar foods from their youth-basic dishes that mom cooked. And every now and then, they’re happy to put aside the duck confit and black truffles and go home to mac and cheese or pot roast-and reconnect with mom all over again.

Michel Tersiguel, Tersiguel’s

With parents like Fernand and Odette Tersiguel, who are longtime restaurateurs, it was inevitable that their only son, Michel, would land in a professional kitchen one day. From the time he was a small child in New York playing with pots and pans and, later at age 10, making lunch on Saturdays, Michel was surrounded by a family who loved to cook and garden.

“I’d make exotic stuff,” he recalls. “Well, Thousand Island dressing was exotic to me.”

But he grew up with fare that might seem a little strange to many American children: periwinkles, frog legs, crêpes, radish sandwiches, and dandelion salad. He moved to Maryland with his parents when he was 8 and got his first job as a dishwasher at 11.

“For me, it was always fun,” says Michel, now 43, who graduated from the Culinary Institute of America in 1984.

Now, he heads up the kitchen at Tersiguel’s in Ellicott City, taking over most of the cooking duties from his semiretired dad. And while his father may have been the professional chef in the kitchen, his mother also cooked.

In addition to dandelion salad, Michel also enjoys eating her buckwheat crêpes and apple fritters. He remembers living in New York and his mother making and selling crêpes to other transplants from her hometown, Brittany, France. She met her future husband Fernand, also a Brittany native, while both were picking green beans in a field there.

Now, his mother has other ideas about what she likes to eat, Michel says. “She wants to go out for Chinese food and an action movie,” he says with a laugh.

Dandelion salad

• 4 ounces apple-wood bacon, cut into small dice
• 3 tablespoons chopped shallots
• 1 tablespoon chopped garlic
• 1/4 cup red wine vinegar
• Salt and pepper to taste
• 3 handfuls of freshly picked
• dandelion greens (before they have flowered), washed 3 times
• 1 cup freshly made croutons (see recipe)
• 2 eggs, hard boiled, peeled and roughly chopped

1. Cook bacon in sauté pan slowly until slightly crisp. Remove bacon with slotted spoon and reserve on paper towel. Use bacon fat to sauté shallots and garlic until they color slightly. Add vinegar and salt and pepper. Add dandelions and toss.
2. Place greens on plates and garnish with croutons, crispy bacon and hard-boiled eggs. Serves 4.

Fresh croutons

• 1/4 cup olive oil
• 1 stale baguette, 1/4-inch diced
• Salt and pepper to taste

1. In medium-size sauté pan over medium heat, add olive oil. When pan sizzles, add all croutons. Sauté gently until croutons are browned evenly, stirring every few minutes. Using slotted spoon, remove croutons from pan and reserve until needed. Season with salt and pepper.
2. Croutons will keep for one week in an airtight container after cooling. Makes 4 cups.

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Christian DeLutis, The Wine Market

Executive chef Christian DeLutis turns out sophisticated fare at The Wine Market in Locust Point, but his interest in all things culinary began much earlier. He grew up in central Pennsylvania surrounded by an extended family-Italian on his father’s side, German on his mother’s.

One of the biggest influences in his cooking was his Italian grandmother, Jeanet. “She was a pretty good cook,” he says. “She would make a traditional Sunday supper. There was always pasta-that wasn’t the main dish-but other things, too.”

It wasn’t until he was in college studying English and took a job as a cook at a small Italian restaurant that he realized his destiny was food. “I just went nuts. I thought, ‘This is awesome,'” says the 29-year-old chef, who went to the Pennsylvania Culinary Institute in Pittsburgh.

It was at the Culinary Institute that DeLutis developed a taste for more rarified fare. But make no mistake. DeLutis still very much craves his mother Maria’s home cooking, especially her cookies and braised meats like goulash and pot roast. His mother’s food is simple, he says, but he savors it when he heads home to Hummelstown, Pennsylvania, not far from Hershey. “It’s food I like to eat, like tomato soup,” he says.

His mother says there were no early indications that her son would become interested in food. “He was the pickiest eater you can imagine,” she says with a laugh. “I can remember him in his high chair screaming because he didn’t want to eat.”

Obviously, that’s not the case now.

The chef especially likes his mom’s kiffel, a family recipe for a sugar cookie filled with ground walnuts and cinnamon that’s been passed down for generations. “I always look forward to them,” DeLutis says.

Kiffel 

Dough:

• 3 sticks margarine (Blue Bonnet recommended), softened
• 4 cups flour
• 1 1/4 cups sugar
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1 lemon, grated zest and juice
• 2 egg yolks Filling:
• 8 ounces brown sugar
• 1 pound ground walnuts
• 1 stick margarine, melted
• Small can evaporated milk, enough to moisten mixture
• Powdered sugar, to dust cookies

1. For dough, mix together all ingredients in a large bowl until blended. Form into ball and wrap in plastic wrap. Refrigerate several hours or overnight.
2. For filling, mix together all ingredients. Filling can be made ahead of time and refrigerated.
3. Heat oven to 350 degrees. Roll out chilled dough to 1/4-inch thickness. Use a glass or cookie cutter with a 2-inch diameter to cut circles. Place 1 teaspoon nut filling in each circle. Pinch edges to seal. 
4. Bake 10-12 minutes or until golden. Cool on rack. Dust with powdered sugar.

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Bill Crouse, Sotto Sopra

As an executive chef, Bill Crouse is responsible for the fine Italian cuisine at Sotto Sopra. Turns out it’s a job he’s been prepping for since he was a little kid watching his mom, Lois, in the kitchen at their Aberdeen home.

At 13, he began working at a sub/ice cream shop in Churchville and was hooked. “I realized I wasn’t an artist, but I could be creative in other ways,” he says about his discovery of the world of food.

When he made his first beurre blanc sauce, he gained an appreciation of the skill and passion it takes to be a chef, he says. He earned three associate degrees from the Pennsylvania Culinary Institute in Pittsburgh and worked at several high-end Baltimore restaurants before landing at Sotto Sopra.

His mother said she loves that her son became a chef, adding in true mom fashion, “He’s so enthusiastic. I couldn’t be more proud of him.”

And while you may be able to put the boy in a fancy restaurant, you can’t take him too far away from the kitchen that weaned him. “You can’t beat mom’s pot roast and meatloaf,” says the 28-year-old chef. “She always had good food on the table.”

His favorite dish, though, is his mom’s creamed chicken and rice. “It’s hearty and soulful,” he says, with sudden longing in his voice.

Creamed Chicken 

• 4 large chicken breasts
• 1 (14 ounce) can chicken broth plus additional broth, divided use 
• 2 (10 ounce) cans cream of chicken soup 
• 1/4 pound mild cheddar cheese, grated 
• 1 tablespoon chopped onion
• 1 cup sliced, fresh mushrooms, optional
• 1 cup cooked peas
• Salt and pepper to taste
• 1 teaspoon dried rosemary, crushed 

1. Place chicken in large pot, and add can of chicken broth and enough water to cover chicken. Bring to a boil. Lower heat and continue to cook chicken until it is tender and falling off the bone. Let cool. Cut into chunks and set aside.
2. In another pan, combine cream of chicken soup, cheese, onion, mushrooms (if using), peas, salt, pepper, and dried rosemary. Cook until heated through. Thin with chicken broth, if needed. Add cooled chicken and heat through.
3. Serve over cooked rice, slices of toasted, buttered Italian bread, or biscuits.

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Jesse Sandlin, Abacrombie

After honing her cooking skills in California and Australia, Jesse Sandlin came back to her home state and is now wowing diners with creative cuisine at Abacrombie in Mt. Vernon. At a recent Baltimore Foodies dinner at the restaurant, appropriately titled “A Celebration of Female Chefs,” Sandlin was joined by the ladies in her kitchen, sous chef Jackie Torres and pastry chef Sarah Acconcia, and other local women chefs to turn out a stellar dinner, which included a hefty, red-wine braised lamb shank.

It’s a bit of a culinary jump from the Steak ‘Em sandwiches she used to eat as a kid. “My mom didn’t cook,” Sandlin explains. “She baked.” The plus side was that Sandlin got in the kitchen at early age to make dinner for her working parents. “I made a lot of roast chicken,” she says with a laugh.

But then after the family dinner, Sandlin, now 29, would watch her mom, Kathy Caverly, bake cookies and cakes. She treasures a Christmas Eve ritual where she and her mom would bake 12 different kinds of cookies in a marathon baking session. The tradition changed when she became a chef and worked long hours, though she recalls getting home at 11 p.m. one Christmas Eve and baking cookies until 4 a.m. with her mother.

Now, mother and daughter are split by geography-her mom lives in California. Sandlin stays connected by baking her favorite mom recipes at home-carrot cake and chocolate chip cookies.

Carrot Cake 

• 2 cups flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1 1/2 cups canola oil
• 2 cups sugar
• 4 eggs
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 3 cups finely grated carrots (the finer, the better; use the smallest hole on the grater; see note) 

1. Heat oven to 350 degrees. Mix together dry ingredients. Add oil and sugar, mixing with an electric mixer. Add eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Add vanilla. Fold in carrots by hand.
2. Pour equal amounts of batter into three eight-inch cake pans, and bake at 350 degrees for about 30 minutes, or until tester inserted in center is clean. (You can also use a 13-by-9-inch pan. Bake for about one hour, checking for doneness with tester.)

Note: The secret to this carrot cake is to grate the carrots really finely, so they retain their moisture, and the cake doesn’t dry out.

Cream Cheese Frosting

• 8 ounces cream cheese, softened

  1 box powdered sugar

  1/2 cup butter or margarine

  2 teaspoons vanilla

  1/2 cup chopped pecans or walnuts

1. Blend cream cheese, powdered sugar, butter, and vanilla. 
2. Add chopped nuts, and mix well by hand. 
3. Spread evenly over top and sides of cake layers.

If using a 13-by-9-inch pan, make only half the recipe.

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Jenkins, Darker Than Blue

Casey Jenkins, chef/owner of Darker Than Blue in Waverly, owes some of the restaurant’s menu items to his stepmother, Sandra Jenkins. “We have salmon cakes on the menu because of her,” he says. He speaks fondly of the woman who raised him in White Plains, New York, with his dad, Sammie Jenkins, and encouraged him to go to the Culinary Institute of America after he got out of the U.S. Marine Corps and tried his hand at odd jobs.

“He really enjoyed cooking,” his stepmom recalls. “When your child has a dream, never kill it. You should push them along.”

Casey found the CIA experience humbling, he says. “I thought, ‘This is great. I cooked for 4,000 Marines. This will be the easiest degree I ever got.'” What he wasn’t expecting was the level of cooking sophistication. “I never made velouté in the Marine Corps. I thought, ‘What’s a velouté?'” he says, with a laugh, about the white stock and roux mix that is the foundation for many classic sauces.

Still, even with a prized diploma from the CIA, Jenkins, 39, found some gaps in his cooking knowledge. “I didn’t know how to properly fry chicken,” he says, incredulously. “My stepmother had to show me how to fry chicken the proper way.”

Sandra Jenkins is a casual cook-a dash of this, a splash of that (see recipe). She doesn’t have exact measurements, but the finished dish is to drool for, according to her chef son.

The results of her hands-on tutelage can be found in the Southern fare at Darker Than Blue. “It’s amazing,” his stepmom says of the modest storefront restaurant. “Casey has an eye for decorating. I was so impressed. It reminds me of places in Greenwich Village.”

But the chef always looks forward to going home to New York to visit his family and savor his stepmom’s cooking, especially her fried fish, spaghetti, and those amazing salmon cakes. “She always has them waiting for me,” he says.

Salmon cakes

As mentioned, Sandra Jenkins adapts her recipes as she goes along. “Everything is to taste,” she says. Here is her recipe for salmon cakes: Mix together a little mayonnaise, a little mustard, seasoned salt, pepper, onion powder, chopped onion (which has been sautéed), egg (if needed to bind ingredients), some flour, seasoned bread crumbs, hot sauce, and two or three cans salmon. Shape mixture into patties and coat with flour. Heat oil in frying pan and cook salmon cakes until golden brown, turning once. Makes six patties per can of salmon.

This is the story of a dad, his wife, their five sons (and five spouses), their seven grandchildren, and $50 million dollars. It has all the elements of a gripping modern day drama—money, family, and real estate. But this is no trust fund fiasco, no tale of ruined fortunes and misspent lives. Instead, it’s the tale of the Buscher family, and how Dave Buscher saw a business windfall as an opportunity to create a family of entrepreneurs—one start-up at a time.

Dave Buscher is a steak-and-potato man. But he’s also a millionaire—and right now he’s a millionaire who’s getting his butt kicked. That’s kind of the point at the Owings Mills Krav Maga studio (Krav Maga is a self-defense technique originally developed for Israeli defense forces). Slightly winded from being pummeled by a bunch of (much younger) students, Buscher, 61, more than holds his own. And no one holds back—even though Buscher owns the joint. Following the multi-million-dollar sale of his defense contracting company to a major military supplier, the white-haired, slightly cantankerous, but soft-spoken Buscher decided to invest the money back into his family—including himself. Buscher owns this studio, plus another one in Columbia. After reading about Krav Maga in an airplane magazine, Buscher came looking for training. When he didn’t find anything, “I did what I do in other cases—I started one of my own.”
He’s always been a hard worker. Buscher got his undergrad degree at Villanova University, outside of Philadelphia. That was followed by a master’s degree in electrical engineering at the University of Maryland, and a master’s degree in systems engineering and technical management at Johns Hopkins. He worked at the Harry Diamond Laboratories (now the Army Research Lab), and then spent 17 years at JHU’s Applied Physics Laboratory.
In 1996, he co-founded Solipsys, a sensory integration company. Basically, says Buscher, they took different radars that had overlapping coverage and built a system that would let those radars create a single picture. Business was good—then came September 11, 2001. Demand for the company’s work took off; the sale to military contractor Raytheon was consummated in 2003. And suddenly, Buscher had tens of millions of dollars in his bank account. He also had a plan for what to do with the money.
His kids all remember it differently—how Dad first approached them with his plan—but eventually the message made its way around the family. “I challenged them all to come up with an idea,” says Buscher. If they put together a business plan, he’d hear it out. Word spread amongst the Buscher boys: David, 35; Mike, 33; Steve, 32; Christopher, 30; and Tim, 29. “I always wanted the kids to have the ability to be entrepreneurs,” says Dave. “To make their fortune and not necessarily have to work for someone else.”
The do-it-yourself spirit began early in the Buscher household. As the family outgrew their Silver Spring home in the early 1980’s, Dave started building a house in Clarksville with the help of a couple friends and some contractors; of course, the boys were put to work.
“I was 13 and hammering and plastering,” says David. “It was our family project for a couple years.” He remembers eating microwave hot dogs while they worked—”it was the only thing we ate for a year.” The house was completed in 1985.
“I have memories of being in sixth grade and hammering our plywood floors,” says Mike. “It was very much a family effort to build that house.”
His parents, says David, seem to thrive on chaos. They had five children in seven years. And once the boys started moving out, his mom, Lauretta, “would replace everyone with a dog,” says David. “For a while, she had this pack of dogs at the house.”
The brothers share a lot of similarities: smart, private, and focused. For many of them, their wives play a dominant role both at home and at work—spearheading the businesses that were born out of this proposal.

First out of the gate were Katie and Tim. They bought Crazy Lil’s, a bar in Federal Hill, in January 2003. “We had a couple of false starts trying to find the right place,” says Dave Buscher. Crazy Lil’s was the third or fourth opportunity. “That was the only business that was already operating. All the other businesses started from scratch.” Tim had no food service experience—he quit his job at Verizon to run the bar—but Katie had worked in restaurant management. “I think when we first told Dave we were going to buy a bar he thought we were crazy,” says Katie, 28, especially when, three months later, they found out she was pregnant. Tim quickly learned about food preparation and bartending since Katie couldn’t keep up with the late nights and smoky atmosphere.
They still own the bar, and it’s finally turning a profit, says Katie. Lil’s, she adds, prepared them for the next step: an upscale steakhouse in Fulton that sits at the intersection of routes 216 and 29. They spent a year planning oZ—pronounced “Oh-Zee”—Chophouse, and opened in September 2006. “This is ours from top to bottom,” says Katie, looking around the restaurant. They chose everything from the silverware to the soap dispensers in the bathroom. (Their second child was born two weeks before they opened. “We have really bad timing,” Katie says.)
Timing is just part of the learning process. And so are the mandatory monthly board meetings that Buscher instituted. Initially, everyone was skeptical. “I said, ‘I don’t want to sit around and tell everyone how much my store is making and how I pay my staff,'” remembers Lindsay Buscher, who along with husband Chris owns Urban Chic, a fashion boutique. But they had no choice. Now, she says, “it’s probably one of the smartest things we could have done.”
Everything is discussed, from finances to problem employees to merging suppliers. Buscher says there is no point in each business making the same mistake over and over again. And there are no secrets. “It makes everyone aware that what they do affects everyone else,” says Buscher, who attends some meetings, but not all of them. It’s now their show to run.

And so far, so good. Chris and Lindsay are at the helm of a boutique empire. They met their last semester at Salisbury University and fell in love, they joke, over their freak knowledge of Contra, a Nintendo game. When Dave’s offer was made, both Lindsay, 29, and Chris were working full-time, in addition to getting master’s degrees and planning a wedding. Chris had taken his degree in graphic design and gone to work for his dad at Solipsys—the only one of the brothers to do so. Lindsay was at Northrop Grumman and had just been accepted into the Women & Politics Institute at American University.
Instead, she opened her first Urban Chic in February 2004 in Georgetown.
With the money they borrowed, Lindsay and Chris were able to afford the real estate. “I think that Georgetown store was one of the most important decisions in our lives,” she says. They had discussed other locations, like Towson, “but I think if we had done that we wouldn’t be where we are now.”
Georgetown is a tricky place. As shopping destinations go, it’s one of the best. But for a small, independently operated boutique competing with established upscale shops like Barney’s Co-Op, Neiman Marcus’ Cusp, and Intermix—well, it’s a difficult thing. Especially for an inexperienced first-timer. The shop’s location, upper Wisconsin Avenue (known as Book Hill), is also a few miles off M Street’s main hub.
An omen of the store’s future came early: The night before they opened, a woman begged to come in and shop. She bought $5,000 worth of merchandise—in cash.
Chris called his father. “We just made our first sale,” he told him.
Today, the original Georgetown store continues to thrive (and “we are killing last year [sales],” says Lindsay). Chris and Lindsay opened their second Urban Chic at Maple Lawn outside Columbia in November 2005. They developed an online presence. They’ll open in Bethesda next spring. A developer in Annapolis is courting them. And Gaylord Hotels will be opening more incarnations of their boutique at two locations, including the highly touted National Resort & Convention Center (the “National Harbor” project) in Prince George’s County. “Lindsay has a passion for what she does,” says Michael Hudson, brand projects manager for Gaylord Hotels. “Her existing boutiques speak for themselves. She and her family have poured their heart and soul into them.”
Closer to home, the Harbor East location—nestled between Fells Point and the Inner Harbor—will open next month. Baltimore, they confess, was not on the radar screen. But it was Lindsay’s sister—living in Baltimore at the time—who saw the buildings going up around Whole Foods, and urged her to look into the new, upscale neighborhood. Lindsay called a leasing agent on a Sunday expecting to leave a message. “Oh my God,” the agent said to her. “I was going to call you tomorrow.”
When they open the doors in August (in the former Nouveau Contemporary Goods location), the store will house 2,900 square feet of home goods, clothes for women, men, and kids, and some maternity wear. One of the keys to Urban Chic’s success is the build-out—which is the process of finishing the raw space. This includes building walls, designing dressing rooms, selecting floors, and picking paint colors. “It could kill us because of the money we put into it.
But if we don’t do the build-out, we end up being like every other boutique,” says Lindsay. “And that’s what makes us stand out—and yeah, it’s going to take us a couple more years to pay that money back, but it’s worth it.”

If you ask any of the Buschers, this is the hardest they’ve ever worked. Owning a business—no matter where the funding comes from—takes countless hours. “You have to really love what you do,” says Nicholas Johnson, of owning a small business. His stores Su Casa, Calligaris by Pad, and Dudley & Max dominate Fells Point. “I can be at work seven days a week, 24 hours a day and not be bored.” But hard work doesn’t necessarily mean you’re raking in the money.
Buscher does not take a percentage of the profits. “It’s one of those things we pay back once we’re starting to make money,” says Lindsay. “His goal is to get us there so we are profitable.” And everyone claims there is no competition. No weighing of who got what. It’s just understood that a boutique would need more funding than, say, a photography business.
Buscher sets up shop almost daily in his satellite office—the bar at oZ—checking e-mails and making phone calls. The family now employs an accountant, Didi Cohen, whose sole job is managing Buscher Family Holdings, the entity that all the businesses fall under. “I can’t even put into words what we’ve learned these past three years,” says Lindsay. “We made so many mistakes that first year we would have had to close our store. There is no way we would have survived.” That seems to be the cushion that Buscher has created for his kids. According to the U.S. Small Business Administration, over 50 percent of small businesses fail within their first five years. And while none of the Buscher businesses have hit the five-year mark yet, they’ve been able to survive early mistakes because they’re not worried about foreclosing on their houses or owing money to the bank.
This seems especially important for some of the businesses that have struggled early on, like David Buscher’s bluehouse, a 7,000-square-foot shop on the cusp of Harbor East in the old Broom Corn building. The concept of bluehouse is “healthy and eco-friendly living”; everything in the store, from the drinks to the furniture, has to meet a certain criteria from sustainable to recyclable.
And it’s not easy being green. It’s harder to find vendors, especially ones that can deal in large quantities. The store—which sells home furnishings and gifts—can sometimes look mismatched because small vendors aren’t unified in terms of theme or even seasons. “We just hope to make up for that with the other aspects,” says David. After bluehouse announced plans to utilize wind power to compensate for energy use—and received some press—the National Aquarium contacted them about designing a lounge.
David attended Johns Hopkins, and lived in Chicago and New York before finally settling back in Baltimore three years ago. When the offer came to start his own business, he decided to move home. “I wanted to create something that wouldn’t be destructive or harmful,” he says. So he seized on the eco-friendly idea. Bluehouse opened its doors in December 2005. Like his brothers, it’s a family affair. David’s partner Rob Hartmann, 41, helped with bluehouse’s conceptualization, planning, and logistics in the early stages.
Businesses are funded all the time, he says, but most have to start at a more modest level. Because of his father, “we were able to start with a bigger bang than if we had to evolve.” And because the money was coming from a personal source—”I don’t think anyone else would have been crazy enough to give me the money”—David says he didn’t have to justify where every cent was going. It’s been a slow process with a big learning curve. “I wasn’t used to dealing with a lot of money,” he says. “I had never seen that much in my entire life.” He still sounds a bit dazed.
His plans for the future are still fuzzy—”assuming we get to be very profitable, of course”—but include expansion or green consulting. “I think it’ll be another year before I’m satisfied that all of our systems are right in terms of how we buy, what we buy, how we operate.” He seems the most worried about his prospects. “My family’s resources are very tied into what I’m doing here,” says David. “So, if for some reason we should go out of business or something—it not only affects me—it’s my entire family. It’ll affect personal things as well as business things.”
At the other end of the spectrum, Kassi and Steve Buscher are having a stellar year: For starters, the Ritz-Carlton recently came calling. The pair opened The Pearl Spa in January 2006; a happy client had mentioned the spa to someone at the luxe hotel group, and after phone calls and a bunch of visits from New York they offered Kassi the coveted spot at the new Ritz-Carlton Residences on Key Highway. If all goes as planned, the second Pearl Spa will open in November—the fourth Buscher business to open in Baltimore city.
Kassi, 35, spent seven years working as a consultant for salons and spas as a distributor. She and Steve got hitched in Vegas six years ago. While visiting a spa after the birth of their daughter, Kassi realized she could do a better job. She approached Dave with her plan. “It’s definitely not a free ticket,” says Kassi. “We’re working hard and we expect to pay everything back.” Now, the 11,000-square-foot spa is an anchor for Maple Lawn with its stunning Blue Grotto treatment, water walls, and blissful lounges. Maple Lawn is a mixed-use community that used to be a turkey farm. Initially it felt like a ghost town with Urban Chic, The Pearl, and lots of empty buildings, but slowly more businesses are moving in, including a Harris Teeter.
And now that oZ has taken up residence—Buscher Lawn Farms they joke—Dave has become the unofficial sheriff, mayor, and public relations flak. “It’s been slow growing,” says Kassi. “But this is our best month ever. Every month is better than the last month.”
The kids all joke about Dad’s accelerated MBA program. “I purposefully, in the beginning, let them make some errors because I think that’s a valuable way to learn things,” says Dave. His lessons also include the importance of marketing and lease negotiations. “He throws the responsibility on you—whether or not you’re ready for it,” says Lindsay. “He just wants you to learn really quickly.” And they have. Urban Chic currently has 25 employees, says Chris. If you add up all the Buscher family businesses that number grows to 250—double what Solipsys employed.
The smallest of the businesses are owned by Cate and Mike Buscher. They met in 2002 when both were living in New Jersey. She was an admissions counselor at Fairleigh Dickinson, he was a staff photographer at the Daily Record, and both hailed from Maryland. Before long, they were backpacking around Peru together (her first plane ride). After they got engaged, they quit their jobs and bought a one-way plane ticket to Bangkok. They traveled the world for six months—she’s been to 20 countries, Mike around 43—and in October 2004, were married in his parent’s backyard. “That was a really good glimpse into the wedding business,” says Cate, 27, who now owns Plan It Perfect, a wedding and event planning business. Mike owns the aptly named Mike Buscher Photography where he does a mix of documentary, wedding, corporate, and commercial photography, plus some work for a handful of newspapers. He’s working on a book project and a marketing, graphic design, and advertising agency is in the works. Mike and Cate work out of their apartment in Federal Hill—the former Holy Cross School with soaring ceilings and lingering evidence that they now live in the former gymnasium.
They’re operating on a much smaller scale than the other Buscher businesses—”the black sheep,” laughs Cate. And yet, it’s a perfect fit. There is obvious kinship between a wedding photographer husband and a party planner wife, but also rehearsal dinners are often held at oZ, bachelorette parties at Pearl Spa, honeymoon outfits purchased at Urban Chic.
Perhaps it’s Cate’s more intimate business size that gives her a good long-term look at the prospects for the myriad Buscher family enterprises.
“They will,” she says, “take over the world one day.”