San Diego

The boys and I spent last week in San Diego visiting my mom. As a kid growing up in suburban San Diego, I always used to complain about how BORING it was there. It never rained, the weather was always the same, the suburbs were so dull, blah, blah, blah.

Indeed, it didn't rain the week we were there and the weather was in the 70s the whole time. We checked out gorgeous, safe, well-designed parks and playgrounds all over my mom's suburban community and gee, wasn't it terrible?!. What the hell is wrong with teenagers that they have to always find something to complain about?! I'm sure someday Max and Henry will complain about Alameda. I can hear it now: "Why in the world would you want to live on an island? It's so boring here! There are parks all over the place. The land is flat. The schools are so predictable and high-quality, blah, blah, blah"

Anyway, for what it's worth, I apologize, Mom, for all of that negativity. San Diego is a great place, and I'm lucky to have grown up there.

All ranting aside, we really did have a good trip. Things got off to a great start with the boys rolling their adorable train carry-on bags all over the airport (Thanks, Aunt Brigitte!). The flight down was uneventful and although I started off the trip with a bit of a cold, it went away quickly and nobody else got sick (knock on wood).

We all enjoyed a trip to the Del Mar Fair. Henry was technically a tad too short to make it on the rides, but his shoes were high and the ticket takers were lax, so he was able to join his brother on the "big-boy rides" for the first time and he LOVED it! Both of those boys are fearless.

Grandma Rhona joined us for a day and we went to the Children's Museum in Escondido. We also took my mom out to dinner at the Olive Garden in honor of her retirement from teaching. I know, I know, you're thinking, "That woman retires after 23 years of teaching first grade and all you do is buy her a stinkin' bowl of fettucine?!" Look -- when you're dealing with a toddler, a preschooler, and an 86-year-old grandmother, The Olive Garden is a "fine dining" as it gets!

On Friday we drove up to Claremont to visit cousins Joyce, Missy, and Greg. It was a quick trip, but so much fun to get together. We miss you guys!

In the midst of all the fun there were, of course, certain inevitable setbacks. Max stepped on a bee. It was a classic mother "I-told-you-so" moment -- Max running away across the grass, me running after him and yelling, "You have to put on your shoes!!!!!" and then -- wham-- he falls to the ground clutching his foot. Poor little guy. Luckily, the sting wasn't bad and he didn't go into anaphylatctic shock. I guess we now know that he isn't allergic.

Henry has begun climbing out of his crib with more regularity. Friday night he must have gotten out of that thing eight or nine times and he didn't fall asleep until 9:30 or so. The biggest problem with this was that we had an early morning flight home. WORST FLIGHT EVER WITH CHILDREN (and I've done a lot of flying with the kids). We're talking kicking the seat, yelling, running down the aisle, throwing things (all Henry. Max was an angel). Once we arrived in Oakland, Henry had a full meltdown on the jetway -- he wanted to roll his backpack. No, he wanted to wear his backpack. Hell no! He wanted nothing to do with that backpack! The next thing you know, he has collapsed in a sobbing, screaming heap on the floor and disgruntled fellow passengers are trying to pick their way around us on the way to baggage claim. I had to hoist him up kicking and screaming while simultaneously pushing the stroller and juggling his bag and my own while trying not to lose Max in the rush. Good times.

We're home now and happy to see Scott and Fang. It was a good trip, but I'm not eager to get on a plane with the kids anytime soon. Sorry, Aunt Nicolle. The boys may not be visiting you in England for a VERY long time. I'm thinking their early twenties...