Christmas 2012

Things got a little crazy this year, as Lola and I got in the car and embarked upon a very long drive for  a Southern California weekend trip. At the beginning of our drive (through about hour 6), I kept thinking, "hey, this is just like those quick trips to Santa Barbara that I used to do!" But then, during hours 7, 8, and 9, as Lola repeatedly said, "I want to get out of the car! -- At Grandma's house!!" reality was reinstated and I knew then, I was definitely out of my mind.

But, we made it, and as exhausting as the travel was, it was worth it to see (and surprise!) all of our family.

Our first stop was in San Diego to visit my side of the family.

Then, the next day we woke up and drove to Palm Springs.

It was great to get the kids together, even if at times, they were a little rambuctious. (I love that.)

On Christmas Eve, I woke up around 4 AM, packed the sleeping bean in the car, and drove home. 

Between waking up early and the long drive, I was wiped out, and I didn't have the energy to bake cookies for Santa. Instead, I had our grocery store's bakery take care of it for me.  Lola didn't seem to mind.

 On Christmas morning, Lola was stoked to see that Santa had brought the toy she requested. (Buzz Lightyear, Space Ranger!)

She also enjoyed playing with other gifts, like these "drinking glasses"
 

 and her dinosaur raincoat.

The highlight of the day for me was an afternoon nap. It was a wonderful day.

Family Camping Trip, Part III

There's something about the hot valley air that makes me crave the ocean.  My need for some marine layer usually starts around mid-July, which is a big reason why our summer family trips are set on the coast for this time of year.  Josh indulges me by driving us down Highway 1, even though we both know this route is the long way.

Our first glimpse of the water is in Benicia, but we always joke how that doesn't count. It's the Bay, we say, as we continue toward Santa Cruz. Each mile we head west, the temperature drops. First down to 90, then 80, and as it quickly moves toward 70, it settles in around a blessed 68. If we're lucky, it may even dip into the low 60s.

Winding our way into Big Sur, I roll down my window. Lola shouts, the wind is too much for her in the backseat. I take a deep breath.  We've made it, I say. Josh quickly reminds me of the many miles we have to go, the many extra miles we must go.

But that's OK, because this road is my indulgence. It's my welcome to summer, enjoy it while it lasts, because in a week you'll have to go back to heat, back to work, back to reality.

Each trip, something unusual will happen. It's like this highway knows it has a historical reputation to live up to.  Last year, as dawn broke on the west, we saw a man on a skateboard. Given that this road can barely contain its two lanes, plus a slew of bicyclists who believe in playing chicken with amateur RV drivers, skateboarders tend to stick to the small coastal town.  But he, he was moving so fast, we had no need to slow down other than to stare.  His friends followed him in a van, one of them hinging themselves on the side of the vehicle with a video camera in hand. Later on, we searched for him on YouTube. We never found him, and now I wonder if I imagined it all.

This year, it was I who nearly fell out of the passenger side window, as I saw a California condor. Given that this was the only time I had ever seen one outside of a zoo, I could barely stay in the car when I saw it sunning itself on a cliff. Josh! I shrieked. A condor!! A what? He shouted.

In which we then had a very brief discussion as to how he would not be turning around the car to go and verify my sight, and no he would not stop the car so I could run up the cliff and take a photo to confirm that I did indeed see a condor.  The conclusion of this conversation then led into another in which we began talking about exactly how endangered California condor birds are (the one I saw had large tag marked "40" on it), what sort of habitat they must require, and the possibility of whether that specific condor had been born at the San Diego Wild Animal Park (which we determined was not likely.)

After another hour of switchbacks, slow traffic, and an endearing conversation about conservation, we leave the rugged cliffs and coming flying out onto the flatland. 65 has never felt so fast. Only a few more miles and we're there.



 

Family Camping Trip, Part 1

Oh, dear. Forgive me, as I have not been faithful to my blog. As I am sure you can relate, our summer has been very busy with activities, special trips, and house guests. But, I hate excuses, so let me begin with where I left off, which was August. 

Early in the month, we did our annual trek to the Central Coast for our family camping trip. We took the same route as we did in past years and traveled down the Pacific Coast Highway 1. While this drive is almost two hours longer than taking the more direct route (Interstate 5), it is much MUCH more scenic. And, while Lola used to have a reputation for being a horrible car passenger, she has redeemed herself and can now sit in the car for hours with her books and snacks and crayons and remain calm. In fact, we made the entire ten hour drive without even using the portable DVD player. We brought the portable player (and three movies) with the intent of using it as a way of retaining our sanity. Had it be necessary, I would have broken all rules and allowed her to watch 10 hours of straight television. Instead, we never even turned it on.

Did you read that? Is there an award for being a strange and peculiar child?  Because I think my kid just won. 

But, back to the drive. 

The halfway point of our long drive is Big Sur. As we have done in past years, we stopped at the Big Sur River Inn for a delicious breakfast.

Here are Josh and Lola at the table, with Lola pausing to her coloring activities to take a photo:

 Afterward we went outside, so we could sit in the creek lounge chairs.

We do this every year, and now this photo has become a tradition. Here we are in 2010, me with my 18 month old girl.

 

And here in 2009, when Lola was just 6 months old.

Family Surf Trip - Part 1 - An event in which I did not pee on myself

In honor of our last (unofficial) summer weekend, I thought I would post photos from our Family Surf Trip.

Last month, in order to escape the summer heat, we packed up the Camry and drove and drove and drove to the beach. The halfway point between where we are and where we were going was Big Sur.

Because I love to create traditions, we stopped for breakfast at the lovely Big Sur River Inn.





After a delicious meal, we wandered out back to look at the river.

We tried to get a photo of Lola and I in the bench, but she wanted nothing to do with my photo.

I had just wanted something to compare against last year's photo.

But, now a toddler, she felt that exploring took first priority.

The rest of our drive was uneventful. There was no craziness like the last time we drove down, and Lola managed to make the entire drive without having any sort of melt down.

Let me repeat. Lola managed to make the entire drive without having any sort of melt down. Is there a Guiness Book of World Records for "Longest Amount of Time my Kid can Spend in a Car Seat and Not Melt down?" Because if there is, I'd like to see it. And then, I will give them Lola, because this kid survived an entire 9 hour drive by only exiting the seat ONCE, and never did she cry. All this, and we didn't even bring a portable DVD player.

She may only be able to sleep for six straight hours, but she can sit in a car seat and read for nine. :)

On the road to Santa Cruz

As I was uploading our recent camping videos, I came across this one. It makes me want to jump in the car and go back.

Family Surf Trip - Part I - The Drive

Even though I swore I would never embark upon a long car ride with an infant EVER again, there are some things that are just irresistible. Like, deliberately planning a coastal trip for the middle of August because you know that if you spend one more day in 95+ degree heat you might truly melt. Melt into what, I don't know, but I imagine that if we would have stayed in the Northern California heat for one more day, I may have melted into a puddle of post-partum hormones and stringy hair.

Gross.


So, we left. I had planned this trip more than six months ago, before Lola was born. In fact, due to the popularity of our destination, I had to book our August reservation in February. February 1st, to be exact. I remember waking up on February 1st, a Sunday, tinged with slight outrage because I knew that my days of sleeping in were numbered. But, I crawled out of bed with my nine month belly of bean, and logged on to the Reserve America website just in time to secure a campsite at one of the state's most popular beach campgrounds.

Knowing that our destination was a good 8 hour drive from our house, we began our trip at 4 am, escaping with a sleepy baby while leaving two howling dogs behind. (Don't worry, the pups were well taken care of by a friend.)

Our trip started off smoothly. We decided we would only stop when either Lola or our gas gauge needed us to stop. The first stop was Monterrey. Lola and the car were hungry. Plus, all the coffee I had earlier consumed was requiring an exit. So we stopped at an uninteresting gas station. When I asked the attendant for directions to the restroom, he pointed to a portable outhouse located across the parking lot. He dismissively told me, "Don't worry, they were cleaned last night."

When I opened the door, the commode and its walls appeared fairly clean. The dark hole even had a few soapy bubbles, but I was hesitant. I squatted and began to relieve myself, but then SPLASH, my pee hit the water and I jumped, fearing a fate in which someone else's bodily fluids hit my, ahem, bare ass.

And then what happened, then what happened, you ask?

MY VERY OWN PEE LANDED ON MY VERY OWN LEG. Yes, right on the bottom edge of my gray capri pants. In order to avoid the potential stranger's bowel movement, I managed to pee on my very own leg.

Did I mention that this was our first stop? That we were only 3 hours into an 8 hour drive? In an attempt to avoid the horror of having Josh know that I peed on my very own leg in a sideways naked ninja move to avoid being potentially splashed with stranger stuff, I continued my neurotic streak: I began rubbing soap (as supplied by the outhouse) onto my pee stained pant leg.

Believing the soap would hide my mistake, I exited the outhouse and walked casually back to the car. "Did she have a wet diaper?" I asked.

"Do you have shit on your leg?"

Clearly, the soap didn't hide my secret. We both laughed. Then, I tried to wipe my leg off some more, this time using baby wipes. Smelling like a mixture of anti-baterical soap and cucumber melon, I climbed back into the car and we made it to our next destination without any incident: Big Sur.

We stopped for breakfast at the Big Sur River Inn. We were the first guests of the morning and I was pleased to see that every item on the menu was organic and locally grown. It was delicious. Afterwards, we wandered off the back patio and spent a few minutes relaxing in the creek.

You can see that I attempted to wash my leg off a bit more.


Lola loved watching the water flow by. Even though the temperature was a bit cold, I let her touch the water. She was mesmerized.