A Reunion of the Heart

I normally leave the health and hospital news to L.A. Parent's Health-E blogger/editor Christina Elston, but this one hits close to home.

Six years, two months and 18 days ago, my son was born at St. John's Health Center in Santa Monica. I had grown to ginormous proportions, and my doctor was concerned about how much fluid I seemed to be lugging around. So she decided to bring Jack into the world a couple of weeks before his due date. I was ready, but little Jack apparently wasn't. As soon as he saw the bright lights of the outside world, his little face contorted into an unhappy pout. But even more distressing was that he didn't seem to be breathing properly – and then turned a disconcerting shade of blue.

"Is he OK?! Is he OK?!" That's all I remember saying as they whisked the baby out of my arms, past my husband and out of the room. I'm not sure what happened or how much time went by, but the next thing I remember was seeing a pediatrician at my bedside. Apparently, Jack's little lungs weren't quite fully developed, so he had to begin life on this Earth hooked up to a ventilator and all other manner of horrific equipment in the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit).

From that moment, I scarcely remember anything except the primal, horrific pain of seeing my baby inside a plastic box, his little chest working hard for every breath. Fortunately for all, he quickly showed his strength and determination, ripping out tubes and fussing at all the fuss.

As moms everywhere know, there is NOTHING on this planet that surpasses the trauma of having a baby or a child with a medical problem or injury. Your brain goes to a crazy place. Your body is not your own. You eat and dress on autopilot, and your focus is on nothing but the well-being of your baby chick. A bomb could've gone off three feet from me, and I would have still been sitting in that waiting room, my arms wrapped around my legs, rocking back and forth.

But throughout my entire ordeal, the NICU nurses became the glue that held me together as my addled, postpartum brain tried to make sense of what was happening. They were an unwaivering force of peace and comfort and knowledge and sanity. Before I had even really gotten to hold this wiggling little bundle, the nurses already knew that he liked sweets and hated the pacifier. They knew his cry (scream, more like it), and that he really liked to be naked.

To this day I cannot tell you how long this ordeal when on, except that I know I was discharged before Jack was. The nurses kept me informed without scaring me, made sure I could hold him as long as we both needed it, and they totally understood my fits of rage, despair and exhaustion. Without the dedication of the people who are strong enough to hold up those who, in the moment, are not, then this type of ordeal simply is not survivable.

When I look back, I know now that Jack's little underdeveloped lung issue was a minor complication, compared with some of the medical situations that NICU and its nurses and staff have seen. But my crisis and fear were as great as anyone's, and the staff was no less sympathetic to me than to a mom who might've been dealing with something more serious.

Alas, I am not good with thank-you notes, as the 100 or so people who sent me wedding gifts about 20 years ago can atest to. I swore I would be better about that with baby showers, but I'm still trying to remember to thank folks for the onesies they gave to Kate 10 years ago. And with high hopes I thought I'd succeed in thanking the incredible staff at St. John's NICU after we all came out of it alive. But alas, I don't think I ever found the time to scrap together a few words of thanks between the feedings and diaper changes. But here I am, six years, two months and 18 days later, offering my heartfelt thanks to those incredible women who gave their time, emotion, love and caring to me and my little Jack.

But their greatest rewards might just be seeing the happy, smiling faces of the babies, children and parents they helped nurture through difficult times, which is why St. John's is holding a NICU reunion from 1:30-4:30 p.m. on Sept. 26 in the Dining Court of St. John's new Howard Keck Center. You'll find arts and crafts, food, face painting and the faces of a grateful group. St. John's began delivering babies in 1945, and the hospital opened its 18-bed NICU and a state-of-the-art Women's Health Unit earlier this year – a bit late for me, although I thank them just the same!

One Day In Monterey

L.A. Parent's Calendar Editor, Michael Berick, is extremely savvy when it comes to the kids' music and theater scene (and grownup stuff, too) and always seems one step ahead when it comes to finding cool things for kids and parents to do in the L.A. area. He traveled a little farther afield to bring us this guest post on a trip he took recently with his wife and 8-year-old daughter Julia to the scenic seaside town of Monterey. It made me want to make the trip!

On a recent trip back from visiting family in Northern California, we were able to carve out a day in Monterey. I had never been to the scenic coastal city before, and my main impression of it came from watching the music documentary Monterey Pop many moons ago.  The city, as it turns out, holds a lovely mix of modern and historic California (who knew, for instance, that the California’s first theater was started in an old Monterey tavern?).

The Portola Hotel and Spa hosted our stay in Monterey. Situated downtown within shouting distance of Fisherman’s Wharf, it is also convenient to the prime tourist destination, Cannery Row.  The spacious hotel welcomes guests in a very special, and extremely delicious, way – with a complimentary chocolate chip cookie. A truly tasty way to start our stay!

The hotel recently has started a new program for its young guests. The Portola Pirates program offers kids a chance to explore a bit of the hotel, learn a little history and get some treats. At check-in, children received a small treasure box stocked with pirate-themed goodies, including a “treasure map.”

My wife and I accompanied our 8-year-old daughter (the map really needs an adult’s supervision) as she hunted around the hotel’s lobby, restaurants and ground to answer the map’s short set of questions to lead us to a “treasure chest” in one of the restaurants (Peter B’s). While the box had been somewhat plundered of prizes when we got to it, my daughter didn’t seem to mind having enjoyed the investigative adventure and the treats she got in her small box (a rubber duck, pirate bandana, etc).

Not only did our comfy room come with a nice view, but there was also a “complimentary” seagull on our balcony greeting us. When the gull realized that we weren’t going to share our cookies, it flew off.

After settling in, we flew off, too, for our main tourist first destination – the fabled Monterey Bay Aquarium. We were able to get two-day pass tickets from the front desk so we didn’t have to wait in line. The hotel staff, overall, was extremely helpful and informative, giving us directions that greatly improved upon our Web-generated mapping.

The aquarium lived up to its billing. It is an impressive facility, with something that captivated all three of us. My wife found the jellyfish tanks truly spectacular. With simple backgrounds and effective lighting, the environment made these creatures luminescent. Similarly, I enjoyed the Sea Horse exhibit. Our daughter was drawn to the touch tanks and sea otters. There was more than enough to see in our initial 90-minute-plus visit, so it was good that we got two-day tickets.

Returning to the hotel, we dined at the main restaurant, Jacks. Although an upscale, white-tablecloth restaurant, it was very accommodating for children. As part of the Portola Pirates’ program, they have a new kids' menu offering eight different entrees (all with clever Buccaneer-themed names) for $4.99. My daughter, in an adventurous spirit, went off that menu and chose the special corn chowder with a calamari appetizer. My wife went with a trio of small plates, and I had a halibut. It was all quite tasty, and the pea soup that my wife and I both got was especially delicious (fresh made and not cream-based)

On Monday, we took advantage of having a little extra time and strolled down to the aquarium along the coastal Monterey Recreational Trail. It’s a pretty walk, and we got a great look at the harbor seals in the bay. In fact, it was a little too close-up as we got a good whiff of the fragrant mammals.

Monterey also has a convenient and free trolley that we took to Fisherman’s Wharf. The Wharf is mainly a place for tourists and is populated mainly with gift shops, restaurants and sight-seeing boats. While we didn’t have time for a water excursion, we did do a taste-trek of the various clam chowder samples hawked along the wharf. My wife joked that you could make a meal just from the samples but we chose to dine at our daughter’s favorite, Gilbert’s, to indulge in big bread bowls of chowder and more normal size shrimp cocktail.

We left Monterey with full bellies, good memories and more spots to check out next time. One day definitely was not long enough a visit. We didn’t even get to check out the hotel’s spa facilities. Families with young kids will probably want to investigate the Monterey Youth Museum, or go on a glass-bottom boat ride, while the literary-minded might want to venture over to Salinas for the Steinbeck Center.

The details: Monterey is about 300 miles northwest of Los Angeles. Find more information about lodging, attractions and events through the Monterey County Convention and Visitor Bureau.

Made By Dad

File this one under either 1) Best Dad Ever or 2) Too Much Time On Hands – or both. But the resulting backyard squeals of delight and nervous twitching of mother were incredibly palpable this week.



Not every dad (or mom) is handy with PVC pipe and pulleys, but even the most citified of parents will find something to grab onto in Made by Hand: Searching for Meaning in a Throwaway World (2010, Penguin, $25.95) by L.A. dad Mark Frauenfelder.

The aforementioned Zipline Builder (see #1 and #2) is a dedicated follower of Frauenfelder's other creation, a blog called Boing Boing, that brings to light obscurities and oddities in a "cool geek" retro-techie framework. He is also the editor of that holiest of it's-cool-because-you-can-make-it-yourself magazines, Make.

Both are worth the perusal (longer, if you are like to make stuff/can be classified as "nerdy"), but in his new book, Frauenfelder really brings home the concept of slowing down your world, taking control of life and appreciating the simple engineering that it takes to, say,  make a musical instrument out of a cigar box (yes, the Zipline Builder has done that, too).

There are other projects (how to raise your own chickens and the automatic chicken door, grow your own things to eat and make your own yogurt) that are designed to show both you and your kids that food and fun doesn't just come wrapped in cellophane.

Check it out – and then make something out of it.

Flutterby, Butterfly

OK, where's my summer vacation?

I'm trying not to be bitter, but it just seems as if everyone around me is kicking back on the beach or having fun on vacation. It's even tougher when you feel like everyone around you even looks relaxed and tan.

That's why I jumped at the chance last weekend to check out the St. Regis Monarch Beach Resort, a AAA Five-Diamond chill-out haven tucked onto a scenic stretch of Orange County coastline just north of Dana Point. It's an indulgence, for sure (room rates start at $675 per night), but families – many of whom are from California – flock there to take advantage of the relaxing Mediterranean vibe and family-oriented activities. I also came to check out one of the most unique activities I've ever experienced at a resort: the release of monarch butterflies.

Every Saturday evening in the summer through Labor Day, the St. Regis hosts a Butterfly Ritual designed to honor of the breeding grounds of the colorful insect. A white-gloved St. Regis Butler leads a procession through the lobby to the ocean view terrace, where he offers a toast (champagne for grownups and sparkling cider for kiddos) and shares the legend that if "you whisper your wish to the butterfly, your wish is kept secret from all but the spirits who listen and attend to our dreams."



The kids love it, and the butler makes sure all youngsters get to whisper their wishes and release a monarch.

After the butterflies were wistfully sent skyward, we wandered down to the fire pits in the resort's expansive lawn for story time and s'mores.

My wishes for a restful weekend were granted, too. I got a massage, and the resort's private beach club set us up with chairs and drinks while the kids played for hours in the surf, making friends and filling their bathing suits with sand. I had the option of yoga, time in the spa, live music at sunset, pool time, golf or tennis or a cardio beach workout (who are we kidding?).

Ultimately, I decided to stick with the plan of the butterflies, who begin their long journey here before heading south for the winter in the hopes of migrating here again.

Dessert For Dogs

There are days when I can scarcely get a semi-balanced, decent-looking meal on the table for my children. Now I just found out that I should be baking for my dog.

Puppy Cake is releasing a new peanut-butter-flavored cake mix this fall to go with their current line that includes Fifi's Favorite Carob and Buddy's Best Banana flavors. The dry mixes are made from whole wheat flour and other natural ingredients and of course come with a yogurt frosting mix. And Fifi's even emits the enticing aromas of chocolate without the toxic side effects.

But why would I want to bake a cake that I can't/wouldn't want to eat when I can't remember the last time I baked an actual cake (mix or not) for the people in my family?

Don't get me wrong: I love my 2-1/2-year-old black lab-pit mix, Olive. She's goofy, fun, obedient and is ready to sleep on my feet during those cool SoCal nights. She loves those other pups in the house (Kate and Jack) and would lay down her life to keep them from coming to any harm.

But a cake? That I have to bake? And decorate with frosting?

Well, now that I think about it, her birthday is coming up next month ...