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Thursday
Apr212011

Spring Breakdown

This blog post could also be entitled, "How To Survive Spring Break."

Husband Steve was trying, and these are his words, "not to kill the children" during the five long days that mark the annual rites of spring, otherwise known as "teachers get to soak up some oxygen before the final push to the end of the school year."

For parents, it's not a vacation. It's not a "break." It's a time when you have to plot, plan, schedule ... find something, anything, for the kids to do.

Steve, a work-from-home dad, had plenty of jobs on his plate but decided, for the sake of his own sanity, to surrender to the "break." His idea was simple, brilliant ... and probably one of the best gifts a parent could give a child: He gave them the gift of time. He called it Choose Your Own Adventure Day.

"I sat them down on the sofa and said, 'I'm yours today.' It was interesting because none of us knew where it was going to lead. We had this giant playground and did whatever we wanted in the city, like Grand Theft Auto but with more ice cream and less thuggery. You forget that you live in one big sandbox. You forget that the city can be like that. 

The rules were simple: Dad came up with the choices, and the kids took turns deciding which thing to do or direction to take. It was cool, Steve says, because the day and their destiny were in their hands – and they took ownership of it.

Choose Your Own Adventure #1: USA Doughnut or Krispy Kreme?

Kids: Krispy Kreme.

While we were there, a mom came in with her kid, who immediately came over and watched the machine. She told him, 'Come on! We don't have all day!' But we looked at teach other and thought, 'We do have all day!' All day to watch the machine make doughnuts. All day to sit and stare out the window. The kid lingered, and the mom eventually dragged him away. It reminded me how scheduled we can be. Kids don't know how to react when you ask them, 'Okay, what's next?'

 

Choose Your Own Adventure #2: Dodger Game or Explore?

Kids: Keep exploring. Steve opted for a Target exploration, knowing they all needed new shades for their adventure.


Choose Your Own Adventure #3: Left or Right?

Kids: Both. Actually left then left then straight then right then left, -- well you get the picture.

They arrived at Norton Sales, a surplus store for rocket parts (really!), hydraulics, and other gear and gadgety things. Steve had scoped this one out ahead of time but the kids, in control of their own destinies, were quite convinced they had stumbled upon an amazing little gem in the Valley on their own. This place was a trove of rocket and missile parts and control panels and gear from the early Space Age, which tickled a nostalgia bone for Steve and ignited both kids' sense of wonder. These weren't hidden behind museum glass; they could touch and poke at whatever they wanted. Plus, there was a cat.

The cat crawled out from under a liquid oxygen fuel tank and demanded some scritching.They both acted like they'd never seen a cat before.

While the kids were fascinated with the cat, Steve followed the owner down a rabbit hole of geekdom, like a time machine that returned Steve to his 12-year-old self.

 

Choose Your Own Adventure #4: Lunch With Mom or Spankings From an Ogre?

Kids: Uhm, they chose hot dog with Mom.

Steve wanted to have lunch with me. So he Googled "hot dogs" and found the Hound Dog Hot Dog Shop in Sun Valley. Slow service but great dogs.

 

Choose Your Own Adventure #5: Go to the Park or Go Metro?

Kids: The train!

We didn't really have a destination but Vermont/Sunset sounded good, mostly because when they said it over the loudspeaker, Kate thought they said, 'Marmoset Station.' They also got to choose elevator or stairs, and they chose the stairs sometimes.

 

Choose Your Own Adventure #6: North or South?

Kids: Jack set the compass on 'north,' and learned an important navigation skill.

It was kind of cool to have the compass on the train, because you never really know where you are underground. We stopped at Maya on Hollywood, a shop filled with carvings and beads.

They really wanted to buy me a $375 wooden carved chair that looks like a hand. I'm almost sorry they didn't. Almost.



Choose Your Own Adventure #7: Art or Books?

Kids: Art.

So off to Steve's other geekish outpost, Wacko on Hollywood. The kids were starting to wear down at this point, but Jack got a skeleton pen, which bolstered him a bit. Plus, the kids got to stare at weird images at the shop's La Luz de Jesus Gallery (see Mark Gleason "Mannerism" here).

 

 

 

Choose Your Own Adventure #8: Pirates or Bunnies?

Kids: Bunnies. It's Easter week, after all. Jack just wanted a picture with the bunnies and weird bunny suits, which took a backseat to the carved pirate.

They had these full-size creepy Easter Bunny suits in a store window along Hollywood Blvd. I tried to move the kids along, but Jack was drawn to the display.

 

 

Choose Your Own Adventure #9: Ice Cream or Ice Cream?

Because why even waste time coming up with another choice?

 

Choose Your Own Adventure #10: Know when to flip straight to the ending

The choice was sculpure or library, but the kids were pretty worn out and petitioned to make a third choice: take the train back home.

Wednesday
Mar232011

A Baby's Baby

My niece just had a baby. How strange it is to say it. Or read it. Or type it.

The two of us are just three years apart, so I still see her as my little playmate who was always a key player in our family picture, whether we were celebrating New Year's by dressing up in my mom's fancy dresses or playing with dolls for hours on end.

And that makes my sister a grandmother. Again, looks weird to my eye, but life slides us into these new roles as easily as we slip on a sweater on a cool, spring day. One minute my big sis is taking me to the park to play with her daughter and the next time I look up, she's holding her daughter's baby.

And where does that leave my mom? As a great-grandmother, the strangest of all titles for this terminally energetic, youthful and sharp-witted woman. I still – and always will – see the same woman I remember from my gradeschool days – hair nicely coiffed, bright-red fingernails, dressed impeccably for her trim frame. To this day I have more gray hair than she does, a curse she no doubt bestowed upon me for the trouble I gave her as a teenager.

Her vanity is endearing – her three grandchildren were forbidden to call her "Grandma," a title she equated with little old ladies clustered in knitting circles. To my niece, she was always "Mom." To my two kids, she's "Ema."

I can't wait to see what baby Madison will call her.

Thursday
Mar172011

Backyard Travels: Snow Business

I’m not a skier. I don’t like cold weather. So, why in the world would I agree to go to Big Bear for a weekend?

The short answer is that my kids like it. Kate seems to have no inner thermometer. It’s as though she lives in a world that is 75 degrees at all times. Extremes don’t bother her one bit. You combine that with her spirit of adventure, and how could I deny her the chance the spend a weekend schussing atop some of the best conditions that the Big Bear resorts have seen in several years?

Both Kate and Jack had both been on skis but we decided to send them into ski school to give them a confidence boost – and to give husband Steve a chance to catch a few runs, too. He looked at me forlornly as he pointed his ski tips toward the lift. “Sure you won’t take a lesson?” he asked me, as snowflakes rested on my eyelashes and I shivered so deep I nearly caused an avalanche.

“Oh, I’m sure,” I managed to stammer.

It’s not as though I haven’t tried. Several years ago I tried to be the “I can keep up with him” kind of spouse, never content to sit in the lodge while the fun was happening outside. I took lessons. And it wasn’t even the 14 times I fell over in the snow and rolled around like bear caught in a barrel. It was the constant wedge (or “pizza,” as the kids call it) that I had to keep my skis in, terrified that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself before crashing into a tree, a slew of happy skiers, the deck where a DJ was spinning tunes and ultimately, the cozy lodge filled with surprised skiers.

And then there’s the gear. Why, in the 200 years that the sport has been developing, hasn’t some brilliant skier from the Swiss Alps designed a ski boot that a) doesn’t cut into the flesh and bone of your shin and b) make you feel like Darth Vader trying to negotiate a metal stairway without the use of The Force?

So this trip, I stood firm. I was determined to enjoy the relative comfort of my own footwear while Steve and the kids tromped around with skis on their backs and really cold ears. And in the process, I forgot how friendly people can be when they’re outside of the Los Angeles environment. Inside the crowded lodge I meekly asked if I could share a table with a Big Bear employee and a skier who’s obviously spent several winters on the slopes at the resort.

“Join us!” came the enthusiastic response, and before long we were all swapping stories about our families and careers. After they left, I found a cozy spot on a futon and curled up with my book. I was soon joined by a friendly skier with a weather-worn face and charming hazel eyes. “Is your guy out on the slopes?”

Before long, we were sharing some Trader Joe’s crackers and I was drifting in and out of my novel, comforted by the hum of the bustling lodge and the sound of the cappuccino machine.

Mid-afternoon, I collected Kate from her lessons, and with her face still flush from the snow whipping into her face, she wolfed down some chili in a bread bowl.

She met up with Steve to try her newly honed skills on the blue (and black, I found out later) runs, and I made my way back over to the kids’ ski school to get Jack. I didn’t see him right away, and worried that he – being a bit more delicate like his mother – had decided the near-blizzard conditions weren’t his cup of tea. But before long, he came whizzing down the hill to the meeting place – but holding his lip out with his gloved hand.

“Uh, oh,” I thought. “A face plant? A run-in with the lift?”

“I lost a tooth!” he lisped, and gingerly pulled out a tiny little Chicklet wrapped in a Kleenex that had been expertly wrapped by his instructor. Fortunately, it had came out on its own accord by means of what Jack called “a mad tongue,” and he immediately began daydreaming about his upcoming date with the Tooth Fairy.

After a quick polar bear dip in the hot tub, the kids snuggled down for the night with visions of past and future runs and jumps in their heads. I stared at the fire and wondered if I could ever conquer “the pizza” or just be content with some Steig Larssen and a latte – at least during those times when such terms as “white out” and “wind chill” are applicable. 

 

About Big Bear

Now's the time to cash in on discounts at Big Bear and Snow Summit, which combined offer 55 runs, 26 lifts and 438 skiable acres. Check out the Big Bear Mountain Resorts’ Screamin’ Deal Season Pass, where mid-week passes start at $199 for young adults and $249 for adults – and skiers can use it the rest of this season all of next winter at either resort!
 
Find more info at www.bigbearmountainresorts.com (as well as road conditions and routes) or get up-to-the-minute mobile reports by signing up for Big Bear Mountain Resort’s Text Club.

Friday
Mar112011

The Mother Ship

What makes us human? Those useful thumbs? The ability to tell jokes? A love of cheese (even the ones that don't smell very good)? Our species' unhealthy fascination with Charlie Sheen?

If you ask the billions of women on the planet, they'd probably say that while a good camembert is important, our ability to care for and our deep love we have for our offspring marks a very clear definition between us and our hairy, feathery and scaly counterparts.

Yes, I've openly wept while watching the mama elephant help her little baby over the fallen tree in that Pampers commercial. And how can you not be fascinated by the heroic parenting in March of the Penguins?

But here's what sets up apart: Not too long ago I was complaining of having the sniffles. My mom called me the next day at work, to make sure I wasn't coming down with something. Let's just say I'm well past the age when she'd have to rush me to Urgent Care for a high fever or bring me a Popsicle to ease my sore throat.

Even if your child's away at college or old enough to be a grandmother herself, a mom never stops parenting, which, at least in my marsexperience with the animal kingdom, sets us apart from the armadillos and sperm whales.

But a mom's talent for getting her children to pick up their clothes and empty the dishwasher is what impresses beings from other planets – at least if you are to believe the premise in Mars Needs Moms, the new Disney flick that hits theaters today.

I wasn't really sure what to expect from this one. Produced by Robert Zemeckis in that hyper-real, motion capture style of The Polar Express, this movie sends an arrow right to the heart of our species and possibly those watching from other galaxies: Good moms make for a happy planet.

Based on the book by Berkeley Breathed, the plot is beyond the scope of reality on many levels. But viewers seemed to walk away with a new appreciation for Mom, knowing most of our mommies would gladly hand off the oxygen helmet to save her child. Heck, that's why the airlines have to tell us to put our mask on first – without that reminder, we simply wouldn't do it.

So moms, check this movie out. I was surprised by its tug at my maternal heartstrings. It's a pretty intense sci-fi flick for little ones - fairly short on comedy and heavy on the action and suspense. And you might not necessarily buy all its premises.

But after the credits roll, chances are you'll want to phone home.

Check out the trailer here.

Monday
Feb282011

Backyard Travels: Oceanside

For the first time that day, both of the Graham children were completely silent. As the sun slipped behind the pier and rested atop the ocean, the sky caughtoceanside1 fire and covered our faces in flower-petal orange. Daylight slowly faded, and we all felt the urge to whisper, like a quiet, meaningful moment had passed among everyone sitting together, here on the beach.

That moment is a nightly ritual for folks who live and visit Oceanside, a quaint but bustling little gem of a town tucked just below the Camp Pendleton Marine Base. While the military presence is undeniable (you'll find lots of military surplus shops in town), the vibe here is distinctly "aloha."

The scenic centerpiece in town is the wooden 1,942-foot Oceanside Pier, which juts out into the Pacific to give landlubbers a far-reaching view of surfers Hanging 10 and dolphins passing through the waves. Hungry ocean-gazers and fisher folks can duck into Ruby's Diner to sip chocolate shakes as they soak up the views.

Sunsets and the more than three miles of beaches are prime and pristine in Ocanside, but there are other pursuits here, too. Families can hole up to rejuvenate after treks to nearby Disneyland, Legoland, the San Diego Zoo and Sea World. Or better yet, just stay in town and relax. History buffs should download the Historic Photo Walk (www.msoceanside.com) brochure to find out where Bob Hope ate dinner oceanside2(the 101 Café) and Barbara Mandrell graduated from high school.

Ready for an '80s flashback? Check out the original bungalow where Kelly McGillis wooed Tom Cruise in the 1986 movie, Top Gun. The property is part of a big chunk of land that has been slated for a new resort, but developers have plans to incorporate the little house into its designs. The city is even celebrating the 25th anniversary of the movie's release on Memorial Day Weekend with a screening on the beach and a celebrity volleyball tournament.

My kids loved the California Surf Museum (www.surfmuseum.org), a small but cheerfully operated nonprofit space dedicated to showcasing all aspects of the sport. The museum's recent "Women on Waves" exhibit made waves, and the new  "Transitional Thinking: A Short Story 1966-1972" will highlight how surfing's aesthetics meshed with the era's cultural climate. Admission is $3 for adults (free for kids younger than 12) and is free on "Aloha Tuesdays."oceanside3

The trek a little farther inland to the Mission San Luis Rey (www.sanluisrey.org) delivers an entirely different slice of history. The stark-white "King of the Missions" was founded in 1798 and offers an architectural and cultural peek into California's rich history. Wander in to see this largest of the 21 California missions and scope out its unique wooden dome. Learn more by touring the museum, too (admission is $4 for adults).



Oceanside is located 100 miles south of Los Angeles and 38 miles north of downtown San Diego. For more information on Oceanside's attractions, eateries, hotels and events, visit http://visitoceanside.org.