Hometown Tourists Take San Diego

I am not a spontaneous person. My classroom supplies are color coded, my personal library is alphabetized, and when my husband-to-be collaborated with my girlfriends for a surprise wedding shower I got pissed. My son was a surprise. After that stick turned pink I sat on the bathroom floor and cried. A lot. Then I took three more tests, just to be sure. I love him more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone, but the surprise thing still gets me. Every time I feel nauseous or pee more often than normal I start having panic attacks. I'm a planner. I have three calendars: one online, one on my desk, and one at home. I plan out all of the week's meals on Sunday morning and then do the grocery shopping for the week. We have a chore chart. I don't do spontaneous.

A few months ago we decided that we would go to Big Bear for my four day weekend in February. We have friends that rent out cabins up there, and my brother still lives in Lake Arrowhead. We enjoyed our time there for our anniversary weekend in August, and we wanted to bring Ben back, preferably when there was snow. I don't like being in cars (hence living 6.2 miles from my job), and Ben doesn't do so hot in them for lengthy periods of time, so we didn't necessarily want to do a day trip. So we picked mid-February. Then the plagues came, one right after another. The next thing we knew it was February and the weekend of our Big Trip, and we hadn't even talked about it with our friends that rent out the cabins. I sent them an apologetic last minute email asking if they had anything available. The pickings were slim, and the trip we were planning suddenly seemed really stressful and unplanned. So I got crazy. All three of us are healthy at the same time for the first time in months, and we had to get out and do something. Not for the whole four days, but some kind of activity away from the OC needed to happen. While we were mulling over Big Bear, I remembered our San Diego zoo passes. They were a gift last spring, and we don't go very often (remember the disdain for being in a car?). So we changed plans, emailed our friends, and booked a hotel in San Diego for Thursday night. We couldn't really afford it, but we were going stir crazy. Sometimes you just have to go for it, right? I packed Ben and I up in the morning before I left for work. I had one last crazy, ridiculous day of parent conferences and headed home, all excited about our Spontaneous Family Vacation.

It was a pretty fun 24 hours. The drive down was fairly uneventful, especially considering that any time we go to San Diego The Boy screams his head off during the entire journey. We also seem to hit insane amounts of traffic no matter what day or time we leave. Apparently this weekend God was smiling upon us, and he seemed to think we needed a break. Hardly any traffic, and very little screaming. We stopped in La Jolla for dinner and leg stretching. Ben continued his vocabulary development by pointing to the picture of the beer bottle on the wall of the restaurant and saying "ba ba." That's our boy. He also wore napkins for a bib because during my spur of the moment packing spree I neglected to pack a bib.

Upon checking into our room I was quickly reminded why I don't do spontaneous. Curious George made a be-line for every exposed outlet, slammed all the doors open and closed, found the hairdryer, and climbed into a cabinet in which there were pipes and other completely non-baby-proof things. I suppose the baby books tell you to bring socket covers and baby-proofing supplies wherever you go for a reason. Whatever...he's okay. Megan and Alex came to visit, and Benjamin entertained everyone by rearranging the furniture and organizing all his toys and bedtime pals. Eventually our family left, Ben went to bed, and Matt and I settled in for our Thursday night stories on NBC. We were able to get a cheap suite so that Ben could sleep in the bedroom while Matt and I stayed up in the living room trying to decide if we were going to go 12 floors down to raid the vending machine or get room service snacks. We ended up paying way too much for room service fries and cheesecake. Oh well...vacation.


Friday morning Ben woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 6:15am (sigh...some day Ben will sleep past sunrise while we're on vacation). While Ben watched Sesame Street I cleaned goldfish crumbs out of my purse (how did those get there?). We played, showered, and checked out, ready to paint the town red...or something along those lines. But not smelling great, because I did not spontaneously pack deodorant. This is where things get shaky. One thing my son and I have in common is our inability to function without breakfast. After a good thirty minutes of driving around downtown San Diego looking for a place to grab some sustenance, the city street claustrophobia and panic attacks fueled by hunger and not enough caffeine, we had somehow ended up off the map the hotel gave us. Long story short, we found ourselves at McDonald's. We're classy. Especially with the napkin bib. But Ben signing "milk please" made the journey worth it.


In no time we were back on the road, nourished, caffeinated, and rocking out to The Killers, ready to take the zoo.

We attempted a new child tracking system. We borrowed one of those monkey leash jobs from our neighbors so that Ben could walk around a little bit (he's not a huge fan of strollers these days...or car seats, grocery carts, and so forth). That worked out for about ten minutes. Then he wanted to be held. For the rest of the day. No stroller, no walking--just being held. And not just held in general, but held by me. For three hours. All 26 pounds of him. At 1:00 I put him in his stroller and let him cry until he passed out three minutes later, right as we were on our way to the petting zoo.



He slept for most of the drive, and after he woke up we rocked out to The Killers and I fed him raisins as he signed "more please" all the way home.

All spontaneous adventuring aside, we did really enjoy our little micro-mini vacation. It was nice to be out in the sunshine, especially since it wasn't too hot. We loved being able to see and spend time with Megan and Alex, and we loved having some family time with just us three. But someone please remind me to pack my deodorant next time.

Poop

It's been a big day here at the Miller home. Well, I guess any day where we're not all laid up watching Sesame Street for the 18th hour in a row is a pretty big day. This morning we went out to breakfast. When we came home Ben and I went to spend some time with Brandi and Adalee while Matt did his half of the housework (well, at least half of his half). It was loads of fun because the mini besties haven't been able to hang out for a long long time since the outbreak. They LOVE each other. They're one, so they stink at sharing and they fight over toys and mama's attention fairly frequently. But if one minute they're pushing each other off the toy stroller, the next they're hugging and open-mouth kissing. Baby BFFs, I tell you. This morning had the added bonus of me maybe finding a new person to cut my hair. Super score.

Ben and I went home after about 45 minutes. Matt and I relayed it and switched off. I changed my clothes and came out to Ben holding Matt's iTouch with one of the earbuds in his ear. And of course he was dancing.

(he looks like a gangsta because 18 month clothes are just a smidge too small, and 24 month clothes are pretty big)

Matt took Ben outside to play while I did my half (my whole half) of the housework. After I'd cleaned a couple of rooms and thrown in a load of laundry, my baby daddy and super puddle jumper came in covered in water and mud. So while I ran the muddy clothes down to the washer Matt put him in a new outfit (a black and silver shirt with navy blue pants--matching is for suckers). After I cleaned the kitchen I came into the living room and was overpowered by a smell that can only be explained by toxic waste facilities and toddler diapers. So I whisked Ben into his bedroom to change him. This is where it got interesting.

When I went to pull down those navy blue yoga pants, I was struck by the fact I didn't see a diaper. Oh wait, there it is. He'd apparently undone the tabs and pulled his diaper down while his pants were still on. So he had poop-covered pants and a poopy diaper hanging at his knees. I carefully pulled the pants off, at which point Ben whipped his diaper straight off. Poop everywhere. His shirt, the changing table, the wall, his hands...everywhere. Shower time. Then outfit number three. And trip number three to the washing machine. It was noon.

Parenthood.

Behind the Iron Curtain

No, I'm not a communist. It's a metaphor.

So it's been a little bit since I've updated the world on the dark, sick world of the Miller family. Hyperbolic? Maybe. But let's be fair...we haven't had three healthy people in the same house since September. I'm tired.


At my last report Benjamin and I both had upper respiratory infections. On Saturday I went to the doctor because it was fairly evident that tiny elves had begun to construct some sort of shelter in my sinus cavities, and they were drilling and hammering away. Also because green crap was oozing out of my eye holes. Two hours later I emerged with sinusitis, conjunctivitis, antibiotics, prescription-strength Tylenol, old-school pseudo-ephedrine, and eye drops. Two days later I took Ben to see his doctor. We emerged an hour later with an ear infection, a sinus infection, and antibiotics. Matt had also started to feel congested. This morning Ben's babysitter texted me to tell me that her daughter, with whom Benjamin spends several hours a day, has croup. So.....we're praying our little hearts out on that one. Winner winner chicken dinner.

All things considered, at least no one is in the hospital. We may have paid for a new MRI machine at Kaiser with all the money we've spent on doctor visits, hospitalizations, and medications, but it could be worse.

I would love to tell you what else we've been up to, but really we've just gone to work and sat around at home feeling miserable and trying to comfort our sweet little boy, who has turned into a holy terror...and justifiably so. He can't breathe very well and he coughs constantly, so he can't sleep, and is therefore in a constant state of being over-tired. He doesn't have much of an appetite, so he's not eating much, so he's weak. And he's in a good amount of pain. And he's been feeling like this constantly for over a month. I can't blame him for finally becoming a crazy monster. Last night he threw his dinner at me, hit me, then wanted me to hold him while I ate dinner. He is NEVER aggressive. But feeling like crap for a really really long time is starting to take an emotional toll on him. Today my blessed mother came over and watched him after I called her at 6:40 panicking because I just found out his babysitter's house is infected with whatever and it was too late for me to call a sub. Ben was an angel. He played and laughed all morning, and actually took a good nap. Right now he is happily playing with his cars. I could cry I'm so happy. I'm really hoping that, as his doctor promised on Monday, we have our son back.

In other news (and actual good news, at that), Benjamin apparently sensed my imminent freak-out about him not talking and has at least doubled, if not tripled, his vocabulary in the last couple of weeks. Woo hoo! We don't need any silly speech therapy. Silly Kaiser.

So that's the state of the union at present. Some day I dream of leaving my house and interacting with other people. I dream of going on a date with my husband, going to the park, and spending time with my friends. Some day. Sigh. Until then, I'm thinking we should quarantine ourselves, maybe until mid-March.

Guitar Hero

Benjamin loves to play his guitar. And he's clearly quite good. Those lessons with daddy are really paying off.

Hometown Tourists: Irvine Regional Park

To be fair, we went to the park in December, before my Hometown Tourist resolution. But I've decided it counts.

This was our second time at Irvine Park, and this time we went for the works. We started off our tour with the Orange County Zoo. $2, not many animals, but a rockin' petting zoo in which Ben can pet, brush, and apparently snuggle with a dozen goats.






I've decided that this is one of my favorite parks (top favs are Central Park in New York and Golden Gate Park in San Francisco). While I love the fact that it has great kiddie perks like the zoo, train, and pony rides, I LOVE the fact that it's beautiful. So after our zoo tour we had a picnic by the lake.


Then we took a walk. We walked slowly, played with leaves, meandered off the path when we felt like it, and took our time soaking everything in.








At the end of our walking tour we hit the pony ride. Ben's pony, Freddie, was an adventure. The woman told me to just hold onto the rope and Freddie would pretty much do his thing on his own. Half way around the first lap Freddie got an itch. He tried to walk in circles and scratch himself against the fence. While he seemed a little puzzled, Ben didn't flinch.

After our pony ride we took the train around the park. At that point Ben was pooped, so he wasn't as into it as I anticipated. But we enjoyed the views.

Costs: $3 for parking, $2 for the zoo, $4 for the pony ride, and $4 for the train. Total cost for three hours of outdoor fun-ing: $13.

Two thumbs up!

Hometown Tourists: Disneyland

Okay, I know this is a stretch for our tourist thing, but since we've been laid up sick for the last month, a couple of Disneyland trips constitute the only touring we've been able to do. So here are a few snapshots of our last couple of visits.