Chalk and Cheese Chronicles

Back to the Berkeley's Adventure Playground

The other day, my son asked if we could go to the Adventure Playground. "You know, the one with the zip line," he reminded me.

The last time we'd been there was just before they were six and now my boys are seven and soon-to-be rising third graders. Prior to that, we'd been there once before, when they were about five. So off we headed this past weekend, happy to have a place to go that felt new again. 

At first glance, this kid-build playground looks like a shanty town that's under perpetual construction. The noise of its young residents filters through the scrap metal sidings, joining the sounds of hammering. Something is happening here.

It's the sound of of kids hard at play. My sons climbed rickety ladders, leaped from boats, and scaled the sides of buildings that would be condemned in the real world. Over at the workbench area, they grabbed hammers, nails and bits of wood and made swords. Then they chased each other through the playground, like children of yesteryear, before the temptation of video games, and before the pressures of standardized testing and competitive sports.

 

 

 

 

 

If you're reading this and thinking of bringing your under 5 child to the Adventure Playground, I advise you to wait. As my kids have grown up, I've learned that there are some things that are better if you wait. Too much, too soon. The Adventure Playground isn't for everyone. Think 1970s playspace. Some might think it's a tad dangerous. You won't find any molded plastic, but you will find errant nails and splintered sidings and unreinforced floors.

 

Wobbly little kids are more likely to get hurt. Wobbly little kids get in the way of big kid rough play. This is no place for strollers. Sure, little kids can enjoy the space (mine did) but really, it's better for all if you wait until they're at least five to really experience this park. Actually age 8 to 10 is probably the ideal age. Besides, kids have to be at least six to use the zip line.

I think they should have an Adventure Playground workshop at the Maker Faire and inspire kids and families to turn vacant lots into a similar space. I don't know how the city of Berkeley (of course, Berkeley) absolves itself from liability in this age of safety first but maybe they can lead the workshop. It would be worth it to bring this type of old-fashioned fun into the lives of modern kids.

 

 

 

 

 

Of course, we ended our day with a minor injury. My son scuffed up his elbow crawling through a wooden fort. He shrugged it off and so did we. He'd earned his Adventure Playground merit badge.

The Adventure Playground opens daily starting June 18 (through August 17) and is open weekend now.

 

This is an original post to Chalk and Cheese Chronicles.

 

Ano Nuevo, Rain or Shine with Elephant Seals

Rain or shine, that should be the motto of Ano Nuevo State Park where we'd gone this past Saturday on the last day of guided tours which ran December 15 - March 31. It poured just for us that day.

Seeing the Ano Nuevo elephant seals up close had been on my bucket list of things to do around the Bay Area. I'd seen them serenditiously once a few years back near San Simeon; we'd looked out the car window from the road and there they were, hundreds of big testosterone fueled bulls, throwing their weight around. It was an awesome sight. Still, the experience left me wanting more. It felt like cheating seeing them from a roadside parking lot. 

Ano Nuevo is a state park in Pescadero, between Davenport and Half Moon Bay and a protected refuge for elephant seals. It's a beautiful drive to get there. I'd booked the 9:15am guided walk, the first tour of the day. The early morning sky was cloudy as we left our home and we drove through patches of fog over 17.

Bu just as we were pulling up to the ranger station to pay our 10 dollar parking fee, it started to rain. By the time we drove 100 feet to the parking lot, it was pouring. We parked and looked up at the sky, wondering if the rain would abate.

Soon, a few other cars started to arrive. Kids and parents huddled around their cars, like nervous water fearing cats.

My kids had on rain jackets atop layers of clothing, and rain boots. The husband and I were only semi prepared for rain; we had on water resistent jackets, but for shoes, we were wearing light mesh sneakers. Grandpa was the most prepared, clad in head to toe waterproof clothing. We had one umbrella among us. 

The rain was unrelenting. The rain was sideways!

The families with kids turned and fled, probably heading to Starbucks. This was a definite rainstorm. I looked at the emptying parking lot and thought we'd better leave as well. But grandpa and the husband had resolve. "We'll be fine," the husband encouraged.

I ducked into the gift shop and emerged with a two dollar rain poncho, in bright yellow. "Ok, I'm ready," I said, smiling weakly.

About eight other people also had resolve so we followed them, this group of 30-something singles, all dressed in hiking boots. They looked cold, but not bothered by the downpour. Then down the trail we went to meet our guide at the big tree on a distant bluff. That tree looked miles away.

We sloshed down the well marked and well maintained path, past and through puddle after enormous puddle. We were soaked. But as we walked, we got our mojo back. It was still pouring but it was exhillerating to be outside while mother nature did her thing, even if were soaked and chilled to the bone.

As this was the end of the elephant seal season, we saw only pups. They were in swim school! Our guide said the pups were the class of 2012. They were cute, looking back at us with their inky, curious eyes. As we walked through a couple of small dunes, I tried to imagine what the place would look like while crowded with adult elephant seals at the height of the mating season. We passed the skeleton of a pup who'd been probably crushed by the weight of an adult male.

Toward the end of the walk, the rain settled into a drizzle and we saw other groups heading up the trail. We passed a woman already carrying a small child which is something you probably don't want to do on a wet, soggy day. Parts of the trail were definitely slippery. I don't think I could have managed to carry a small child for 4.5 miles, even in dry weather. It's just too far of a walk for small kids. Strollers are not recommended, especially on sand dunes! There are no snack breaks either and food is not allowed on the trail. So if you have small children - wait until you know they can walk the entire way. My kids are 7 and adventuresome but it still felt as if we were holding up the 30-somethings in our group.

I'd looked into touring Ano Nuevo before the start of the guided season. At the time, there'd been plenty of space available, but then I got busy and forgot to book until it was nearly too late. The best time to see the Ano Nuevo elephant seals if probably toward the end of January, at the height of the land population. We'll go again next year. It's an amazing experience.

Ano Nuevo is a rain or shine destination. In fact, our guide said the elephant seals like the rain. So next season, go forth and book a guided walk with confidence, it will not be canceled, rain or shine. But heed the advice of the bring rain gear! We also packed extra day clothes, which we slipped into thankfully after the tour.

Don't let the rain deter you. When most everyone else packed up and left, we stayed... and had an adventure!

 

 

 

Berkeley's Adventure Playground Breeds Imaginative Play

It's time to head to the adventure playground again. (Too many museum passes, too few weekends.) I have a feeling my boys will want to pretend they are in Neverland, building pirate ships and crocodiles and such.

We haven't been to the Adventure Playground in about a year, so we're due for a visit. The marina breeze alerts your ears to the playground before you see it. It's the clang, clanging of metal hammers on wood. You might imagine hundreds of little elves busy in a workshop, fabricating toys out of wood. In reality, you will find dozens of school age (for them most part) children getting dusty in a playground they've build themselves.

These kids are working alongside adults to build things using real hammers, nails, clamps and every size piece of wood imaginable . They've built climbing structures, forts, bridges, slides, benches, walkways, sculptures and well, you name it. There's even a zip line! Venture onto the playground as you dare. I know I had some trepidation that the kid-built structure I was on might not support my weight and send me plunging to the ground as if through a trap door. And there were trap doors, with hinges and ladders leading to secret places! Truth be told, it looks like a shanty town.

Chalk Boy at the De Young

Whenever my children express an interest in something (besides Star Wars), I love to just run with it. It's like the window of opportunity is wide open so I make that interest our theme du jour, especially if it's something that interests me as well. The other day, while looking through our bookcase for something to read to my boys, I came across a long forgotten book I'd had since way before kids, when I first fell in love with France.

The book, Linnea in Monet's Garden, is a favorite of mine and while I wasn't a child when I read it, I wanted to be that child, that child who gets to go to France and see art and paste a city map of Paris into a scrapbook.

Then, of course, many years later, I became a mother of boys. I shoved the book way in the back of our bookshelves, behind the Harry Potter and the Mercy Watson and the Magic School Bus. Linnea has a lot of text so I thought it might be a bit of a tedious read to my boys who love Star Wars and who don't, at the moment, like to read books where the protagonist is a girl (with the exception of Princess Leia and Hermione, of course).

Chalk Boy was all mine for story time one night (his brother was reading with dad) and so I pulled out the book, expecting him to give it the thumbs down. But Chalk Boy was game.

So we read the book, with Chalk Boy engaged the entire time. After he went to bed, I planted the Tiny Folios edition of the Great Book of French Impressionism amongst his bathroom reading (yes, we have a basket of books in the kids' bathroom) and opened it to the pages showing Monet's Japanese footbridge.

The following morning, Chalk Boy came running with the book in hand. "Look what I found!" he said, smiling, showing me the pictures of the footbridge. "It's just like in the book we read last night."

I love manipulating my children.

Jedi Training Academy: Trading Mouse Ears for Lightsabers

Mickey Mouse has delighted millions of children for generations. He and his endearing ears are iconic to Disneyland.

He is cute.

Yet for all the things Mickey Mouse represents, to my boys this beloved character is more defined by what he is not.

He is NOT Luke.

He is NOT Anakin.

He is NOT Darth.

He is NOT a guy with a lightsaber.

When we visited Disneyland last month, my boys blew past the Mickey this and the Mickey that. They poo poo'd anything with a princess on it. They pronounced the Winnie the Pooh ride as "for babies." The only other character at Disneyland to give them pause was good old Buzz Lightyear and his futuristic zapper. They love Buzz, but they love and fear Darth.

This year, in 2009, it's all about Star Wars.

My boys are obsessed. It began small, in preschool, then quickly blossomed into a full-blown obsession.

I don't fuel the obsession by showing them Star Wars or Clone Wars movies. But I do indulge them with the occasional Star Wars Lego set or Star Wars action figure...oh, and I might have shown them a You Tube video (or ten!) of children at the Disneyland Jedi Training Academy.

You Checked the Tide Tables, Right?

I spent many a childhood weekend perched precariously over wet and craggy rocks, peering into tide pools. My father would wedge his fishing pole into the rocks while we played and played. My mother stayed behind in the parking lot, reading Sunset magazine in the comfort of the car (and this was way before the advent of cell phones, so I imagine she sometimes had a very long wait.) I recall going tide pooling out at Pillar Point Harbor in Half Moon Bay, but it's been built up a bit since then and for the life of me, the exact spot where we used to hunt for Starfish and sea anenomes must be no longer accessible because I can't find it.

Now that I have my own children who, at nearly age five, can easily

scamper across those tide pool rocks, I've been wanting to take them to the tide pools. We have an

Usborne book called On the Seashore, which I've been reading to my children since they were barely able to walk. It introduced my boys to the concept of tide pools and then we pulled it all together with the first of many visits to the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Tide pools are the perfect touchy, feely play areas that children love. Use one finger, I always cautioned and never lift an animal out of its habitat. Play gently, learn fiercely and leave it alone!

Finally, a friend mentioned that she and her husband had taken their son to the tide pools in Half Moon Bay recently and that they were thinking of going back, they'd had so much fun. We decided to tag along because, for one thing, it's always nice to follow someone who knows how to read tide pool tables what they're doing.

So last week, we set out together for Half Moon Bay by way of Lemos Farm. Low tide wasn't expected until 6pm so we pretty much had the stretch of the day to play amongst the pumpkins and ponies.

"We're going to the beach beneath the Ritz Carlton," my friend said, "then we can have the kids use the clean restrooms there afterward." She's a little OCD about the clean bathroom thing, but then again, so am I. I thought it was a winning idea!

We ended up reaching the tide pools around 4:30pm. I looked at the beautiful, tiny stretch of windswept beach. Where were the tide pools? We continued walking, waves crashing on our left, sheer cliffs on our right. I kept eyeing the surf with trepidation, crossing my fingers that they'd checked the tide pool table correctly. "Low tide is at 6pm, right?" I asked nervously. "Right," they assured me. Still, I couldn't help but look up and down those sheer cliffs, looking for a spot where we might be able to escape the pounding surf, if need be. It was kind of like knowing the location of fire exits in a hotel.

Ok, so I was a little nervous. I don't know, it's just something about the cold, hard Northern California surf that intimidates me.

Where I thought the stretch of beach ended actually continued around a bend but the frothy surf was still licking the part of the cliff that formed the bend. When the surf receded, our friends scurried to the other side, before it returned, leaving me to think that I might very well high tail it back to the safety of the car and check my email on my phone read my magazine like my mother had done.

What if they were wrong and the tide was coming IN? We'd be stranded. How would we manage to hold our boys up on that cliff all night long until help came? (Obviously, I know nothing about tide tables and yes, I'm a worry wart at times.)

We decide to follow our friends and oh my, oh my, am I ever glad I didn't give in to my fears. Suddenly, the familiar black, craggy rocks of my childhood appeared. Tide pools! Even at 4:30, the ocean revealed more than enough for us to revel in. The sky was slightly overcast. It was windbreaker weather, utterly and purely refreshing. Immediately, we got down to business hunching our backs over stranded pools of sea life. I can't believe that I'd been missing out on all of this. It had been decades since my last visit to any substantial tide pools. Decades!

We tried to teach the boys to be attentive as to where they walked. We pointed out starfish, hermit crabs, sea anemones and even somebody's lost sunglasses. I hope it won't be decades before my boys visit tide pools again. In ten years time, even, so much will change.

Original post to Mad About Multiples.

Motherhood Hit the Pause Button on my Wanderlust.

People are always remarking that I take my kids everywhere. They're right, we do. My husband and I see each weekend as a opportunity to explore, but by explore, I mean we're not global explorers, we keep it local. It's more of a practical choice. When I was a grownup without kids, the ONLY thing I wanted to do was travel abroad. I dreamed about it, made plans in my mind to find a place to skip off to for a year. "We'll work as nannies in Europe somewhere," a friend with a similar case of wanderlust had suggested. "Let's do it," I'd replied. But we never did. Soon after, motherhood and marriage hit the pause button on my wanderlust.

There was a period in which I spent the bulk of my time trying to find my inner French woman. For about a year, my schedule allowed me to indulge in three French classes at the same time. I took courses at a local college, at my local Alliance Francaise and joined a book club in Woodside where we read French classics (ok, well, I stumbled through it, but I didn't care, I was poolside with my fellow francophiles, eating brie and drinking strong coffee.) When I wasn't studying all things French, I was busy making plans to visit France. My wonderful friend Claire and I would schedule time off work to go play and have early morning caffeine withdrawal feuds in France. We had friends there and when no one was looking or listening, we'd pretend we were French. I remember driving home from the Quimper factory in our little rented car, chatting away in rapid fire, cringe worthy, broken French, just the two of us, Frenchies for the drive home. In a crowded room, I can still hear a French conversation float to the top of all that noise, taunting me to chase a life I didn't have. 

Goodbye Mini-Van, Hello Lincoln MKT

For four days spanning the Labor Day weekend, I got to abandon my work horse of a mom mobile and test drive the new Lincoln MKT. I was looking forward to the Lincoln's arrival. Goodbye mini-van, hello Lincoln MKT.

By the time the car was delivered, I was already running late for a meeting. So with keys to autotopia in hand, I hopped in and then spent a record 10 minutes trying to work out how to get the darned vehicle to start. The push button start was a novel feature for me, and I pushed and I pushed and I pushed.

Then, I got hot and sweaty. The afternoon sun was blazing and there I was, an automotive illiterate, with the windows rolled up in a car that wouldn't start. My vision of a smooth sailing air-conditioned ride across town was fading fast.

It was almost like that scene out of that 1980s film, Risky Business. Worse, even. At least they were able to get the engine to start.

Finally. I noticed a friendly little suggestion flash across the in-dash screen: Step on brakes to turn on motor.

Duh! Bingo!

Vrooom...and I was off. A little late, but driving down the highway in climate controlled style.

That night, I opened the glove compartment to search for the car owner's manual. I'd wanted to give it a brief read through, so I'd be familiar with some of the car's features. I'd particularly wanted to figure out how to use the Active Park Assist, especially as we'd planned to head to San Francisco the following day. Ever try to parallel park in reverse up a San Francisco hill? In a stick shift, I could never do it. Would the automatic drive Lincoln MKT be up for it? Not sure if I was...what if auto-assist failed?

But...no manual. Uh oh. I was on my own.

The glove compartment only revealed a manual for the navigation system, nothing more. I queried my fellow Bay Area Lincoln MKT testers (@mamaspeak / review, @glennia / review , @bonggamom / review,  @citymama) on Twitter and learned I needed to push a button on the gear shift in order to activate the Active Park Assist. I totally see the need for the Active Park Assist feature because there really isn't a whole lot of rear visibility using traditional methods of glancing at rear and side mirrors and of course, the old-fashioned head turn to look behind.

Apparently, I'm no good at pushing buttons because I swear, I pushed that gear shift button and nothing happened. Not that I devoted more than a minute to the task (I had cranky kids in the car at the time), but I just couldn't get it to work.

No matter. I soon got back to enjoying the experience of driving a new-to-me car.

The following morning, our family of four set of for San Francisco, about a 45 minute drive away. My husband noticed the Michigan plates on our car and predicted we'd be mistaken for Michigan tourists <eye roll>.

San Francisco is one of my all time favorite cities, a way to see a microcosm of the world when we no longer have the time or finances for far flung adventures.

The Lincoln MKT handled the drive beautifully, gliding up scenic highway 280 and climbing up and down the city hills with minimal effort. It felt like a car commercial. The navigation system was a hit with my directionally challenged husband; while it took some getting used to for me and my innate good sense of direction (yep, stereotype reversal). But I enjoyed connecting my cell phone to the car's built-in Bluetooth, it was so much less distracting to drive that way than with an ear piece.

We stopped briefly in Pacific Heights for lunch and then headed over the Golden Gate bridge to the Bay Area Discovery Museum. Our two children occupied one space each in the second and third rows and they were in awe of the foggy view that unfolded as we opened up the Lincoln's two ample sun roofs.

Riding in the Lincoln MKT seems like a dummy proof, fail proof experience. They've got you covered. Someone in your blind spot? Small dots on the side mirrors light up. Blind spot! Blind spot! Lost in an unfamiliar city? Turn on the navigator. Backing out of the driveway? Rear view cameras show the world behind you. (Again, I suspect that this warning system is needed because visibility out the side and rear windows is obstructed by the car's headrests and exterior design.) There's just so much luxury that I feel I almost don't have to do anything for myself. Even my butt can get cooled down or warmed up with a push of a button via the handy seat warmer and cooler controls.

On Labor Day, we drove down the coast in the opposite direction, heading down to Monterey and Pacific Grove. We worked this car!

On a side note, we decided to take our newly purchased Graco backless Turboboosters out for a test ride in the Lincoln MKT as well. We've got 5-point Latch Britax Marathons in the mini-van and 5-point Latch Safeguard Go car seats in my husband's car but we needed a third set of seats for when my boys go off on playdates or ride in grandma's car. So we opted for the wallet friendly, ultra portable Graco Turboboosters for which my nearly 5-year-old twins were now height and weight qualified to use.

This is a classic example of what not do  - can we say D A N G E R O U S? (And yes, I know about car seat safety.) My boys were actually fitting into the boosters just fine...when they were awake, but lulled by the boredom of the road, they quickly fell asleep. The backless Turboboosters offered no head and body support and neither did the seats of the Lincoln MKT. Fortunately, everything turned out okay and the Turboboosters will be stored away for a while.

It was really nice to have that third row seating in the Lincoln MKT. My boys tend to fight when seated next to each other, so as we do in our mini-van, we put them in separate rows. The one disadvantage of the Lincoln's third row seats is access. You need to be a tiny person to get back there. There's no way my dad could ever get back there - it's just not physically possible. I also didn't like the center storage console (probably an optional accessory) as it made the car feel bulky inside. To access the third row seating my kids had to scamper over either the center console or the folded up second row seat. Either way, they had to STEP on something, leaving footprints or tiny scuff marks; I'd rather that they could access the very back row by being able to keep their feet on the car floor. Another disadvantage is that there is far less trunk space in the Lincoln MKT than there is in my mini-van.

Overall, we enjoyed our time with the Lincoln MKT. It's probably the maximum size I would ever opt for in a car and feels a bit more like a chunky station wagon than an SUV. It felt safe and gave a smooth ride and I was constantly entertained by the endless features available in the car. We subjected that car to our active lifestyle and it passed the test. We ate in it and spilled crumbs. We drove it near and we drove it far and some of us (see above) even slept in it. I'm not a car techie, but as an ordinary mom who needs a car for an active lifestyle, this car works.

A big thank you to the folks at Ford for making the new Lincoln MKT available for me to test drive. This was not a paid test drive and I received no compensation.

Original post to Chalk and Cheese Chronicles.

Ikea Småland Gave Me 45 Minutes to Buy Nothing

We started using the Ikea play area, known as Småland, about a year ago. Before my kids were potty trained and before they'd reached the minimum height requirement, I'd eye that place with curiosity. Would my children like it in there? Would I be comfortable leaving my kids to encounter germs play there? Would Ikea Småland give me enough time to buy something?

Visit after visit, as I'd push my double stroller full of double trouble into the nearby elevators, I'd glance over at Småland and think to myself...another year...six more months...two more months and finally, bingo! My twins were 4-years-old and well beyond being potty trained and well above the minimum height requirement so off to Småland we went. We were all excited about our first trip to Småland. This is going to be a win-win, I said to myself, smiling in anticipation of 45 blissful kid-free moments to roam about Ikea and for free (Ikea doesn't charge for use of Småland.) We went off-hours when I knew Ikea would not be crowded.

The first thing I noticed was that, despite the friendly sign that beckons children into the "Magical Forest," this was drop-in day care. I knew it straight off the bat. Nobody welcomed us in like they do on the first day of preschool. Nobody sent us loving smiles. Instead, I heard, KEEP THE BALLS IN THE BALL PIT. DO NOT THROW THE BALLS, PLEASE! I wondered to myself how many times they probably screamed that throughout the day. Soon she'll be screaming that at my kids, I figured, resigned.

We got off to a rocky start, not knowing the procedures for checking in and all. Mistake #1: My boys took off their shoes and held them in their hands while we lined up for entry.

YOU NEED TO GET A BIN.

Gilroy Gardens: PB&J is Not Contraband

Buried deep beneath a pile of swimsuits, a bottle of sunscreen, extra clothing and bulky beach towels lies the contraband, a soggy PB&J sandwich that only Flat Stanley could love.

As my children and I head toward the front gates, the Gilroy Gardens guards are performing due diligence on the No Outside Food rule, sifting through diaper bags and backpacks for Outside Food.

I zip open my bags as we near the gate, prepping for the inspection. "Move along, no Outside Food in here, " I want to say to the security guards. Surely a PB&J sandwich can't be contraband? My small soft sided cooler reveals only ice packs and bottled water. As expected, my bags pass inspection. Over the past year, I've learned that it's not the bottled water or the dry snacks that they're after; it's more like the obvious lunchtime fare like sandwiches; if that's spotted, then even the dry snacks may be confiscated.