Chalk and Cheese Chronicles

A Halloween Birthday at Disneyland

My twin boys will never not know that their birthday is coming. The signs will be few at first, a falling leaf, a chilly morning. Then, a dot of orange here and there, and finally, a sea of orange pumpkins and they will know. Fall is in the air, our birthday.

My boys are fall birthday boys, born in my favorite season. So what did we do to celebrate their big fifth birthday this year? We headed to Disneyland!

Looking over the Halloween at Disneyland site, I was mesmerized by the promises of a Disneyland transformed for Halloween. Disneyland is a special place when it's not a holiday, but dressed up in spookatcular style? There's nothing else like it. What a visual treat!

We'd been to Disneyland once before, in the unadorned month of May back when my boys were just three. At the time, I'd fretted over the type of stroller I should bring. This time, I'd planned to go on my twins' birthday. I'd heard that 2009 was like a twins convention at Disneyland -- but we didn't end up going on their actual birthday; it just didn't work with our schedule. The nice folks as Disneyland did treat us to a one night stay at the Grand Californian hotel and that was a gift the entire family enjoyed.

The Grand Californian made me smile from the very instant we pulled up to the front doors on a warm October Saturday. Tourists, most dressed in sunny weather attire, were bounding in and out of cars. I looked at my boys and hoped they were making a memory out of this. I love my own summer vacation in Southern California memories but mine were full of motels and neon signs, not Craftsman artistry!

In the warmly decorated lobby, my boys made themselves comfortable in front of a television showing classic Disney cartoons. They were in stitches over the classic slapstick fare of Donald Duck and Goofy - they'd never seen anything like it! It was so nice to have my boys sit still during the 15 minutes it took us to register at the front desk. A few minutes later, with our luggage stowed until our room was ready, we settled in for lunch at the hotel's Storytellers Cafe, future home to almost all our meals (let's say it was convenient and family friendly - oh, and yummy!). 

After lunch, we headed to the adjacent California Adventure Park which we told our children was really a part of Disneyland (it is, in a way...). "Where are the Pirates of the Caribbean?" they kept asking us to which we'd replied, "We don't know...let's keep walking." I suppose we could have used our tickets for two days at Disneyland rather than splitting up the parks by days but I'd wanted to take advantage of the hotel's close proximity to California Adventure and there were a couple of rides I'd really wanted to check out (Toy Story Mania, Soarin Over California, Tower of Terror). For the record, I forgot to wear the 3D glasses on Toy Story Mania until the ride was nearly over and kept wondering why puffs of air kept shooting past me. My boys didn't love Toy Story Mania and they much prefer the Buzz Lightyear Astro Blasters ride at Disneyland instead. Soaring Over California was amazing and exhilarating and we loved breathing in the scent of the orange groves! At night, once the kiddos were tucked into bed (a bunkbed AND a trundle bed!) at our luxurious hotel, I made my way over to the other hotel...the Tower of Terror which I LOVED, with apologies to the strangers into whose ears I SCREAMED and SCREAMED.

My boys ended their day in bubble wrap bliss. Our kind friends at Disney Resorts had sent over a fun-filled gift basket plus balloons for their birthday. My kids were thrilled to have received such a special gift! They got mouse ears and markers and autographed photos of Buzz Lightyear and Peter Pan. But imagine a big hotel bed filled from corner to corner with bubble wrap! I don't know, in my mind, that runs a pretty close second to a fun-filled day at Disneyland.

The following day was the Big Day and by that I mean, my boys both realized their recent dream of attending the Star Wars Jedi Academy. My biggest worry had been how to deal with the sibling rivalry repercussions if only one of the boys had been chosen. I'd cautioned my boys, prompting them to be prepared to be disappointed if only one or none of them had been selected but I think because we planned our outing so well, the boys did both get chosen and it was exciting for them and exciting for their parents! I'm not a Star Wars fan and everything I know about the genre is by proxy and still, I was terribly excited to see my boys become full-fledged jedis on their fifth birthday. What a gift for my 5-year-old boys!

By midday, the crowds at Disneyland were enormous, but we'd been able to already see and do so much because we'd done everything between the hours of 7am and noon, before the heat of the day, and before the groundswell of crowds. Why was it so crowded during what I'd thought was the off-season? In talking with another twin mom friend of mine who'd also battled crowds there in October, we think it's because Disney has done such a effective job of marketing a Disneyland transformed into a whimsical pumpkin patch. Indeed, what a sight it is -- if you can look beyond the crowds.

So back to the hotel we went, fleeing the heat and the throngs of people. There are three pools at the Grand Californian, all of which were easily accessible via back elevators which pretty much deposited us ten feet from our hotel room. Sweet! I'm swimsuit averse, as I have been since I was a self-conscious adolescent so I monitored my boys from the sidelines while daddy took the plunge with our boys. They tested all three pools. The first was large and inviting - and in full sun. The second was round and fully shaded and so slightly chilly. The third had a mini slide for toddlers and a longer twisty water slide for stronger swimmers. My boys did both! How better to top off a morning at Disneyland than with an afternoon at the pool? My boys were having the time of their lives. The pool supplied towels and if needed, life jackets, so we really didn't have to bring those bulky items with us.

After the pool and after a gluttonous run on the buffet at Storytellers Cafe, we pushed the limits of  exhaustion for one final evening visit to Disneyland, hoping to catch the 9pm showing of Fantasmic. But the crowds were just too immense so we didn't have the patience to stand in line for any more rides. I pined for the empty streets of Disneyland at 7am... We ended up using our single strollers that evening and just strolling about the park. By the time 8:30pm rolled around, our little birthday boys were passed out.

And with that, my children exited Disneyland in the fashion of generations of children before them, collapsed in utter exhaustion!

Thank you Disneyland and Disneyland resorts. We can't wait to go back!

Original post to Chalk and Cheese Chronicles.

À bicyclette!

Cue the Yves Montand, my boys are riding bikes!

Last summer, my then 4.75-year-old boys had been riding their heavy 18 (or 19"?) bicycles with training wheels since this past spring. We'd long since abandoned the tiny 12 (or 13"?) bicycles with training wheels since graduating to the bigger bikes. But the mom from whom we'd purchased both sets of bikes (at different times) told me to go back to the smaller bikes when it came time to learning to ride without training wheels. "Remove the training wheels and the pedals then take them to a small, grassy hill and they'll learn to balance," she said.

I'd known for some time that my boys were ready to ride those 12' bikes. The only problem was that those tiny bikes lived at grandpa's home for short rides down his street and in his back yard. Grandpa didn't believe the boys were ready, always erring on the "older is better" side - for everything. I begged him to take off the training wheels. "Then we'll give it a try the next time we're over, " I explained. But every week when we visited, the training wheels remained on. Finally, I just removed the training wheels myself (but kept the pedals on), brought my boys to a local school and within minutes, my boys were pedaling and pedaling fast. This was three months ago. Most of our same-age friends also hit this milestone around the same time.

Three year's ago, while vacationing in Bend, Oregon, the Target there had wooden balance bikes (similar to the popular Skuut) on clearance for TWELVE DOLLARS. I don't know if it was some kind of reverse psychology, but I didn't go for it. My mom told me, "You have so much stuff for the boys already," and it was true, I'd been trying to downsize the number of toys. I walked away without the balance bikes. They usually run around about $100 so I really should have snapped up those bikes at Target. What was I thinking? They could have been up on their bikes years ago! But then again, why would I want that?

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. 

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.

Center of Attention

The young comedian stepped up to the podium and grabbed hold of the mic. The stage lights were shining brightly into his face, blocking out the audience, but he could feel them there. It was a full house. "Knock 'em dead, " I wanted to shout, but I knew that would be distracting to him. "What? What did you say, Mommy? Who's dead?" he'd ask, stepping off the stage.

"Say hello, say your name!" I suggested instead.

"Hello, HELLO! My name is Cheese Boy and I'm here on stage..." he announced, his voice echoing.

But the audience booed! Yes, they booed at a 3-year-old during his first moments on stage! What an unforgiving audience! Hmf!

But Cheese Boy kept smiling, though he looked up at me for reassurance.

"Say your joke, " I encouraged.

"Knock, knock...who's there?" he began, then changed his mind, "Why did the underwear cross the road?"

The audience burst into laughter, even before the punchline was said.

"They loved it!" I yelled from the sidelines.

Cheese Boy laughed nervously.

"Underwear!" he repeated, for emphasis.

"Boooooo! Booooooo!" the audience retorted.

"Oh, they didn't like that one this time, " I cautioned.

"Why not?" replied Cheese Boy, still smiling but looking a bit unsure.

"Why did the underwear cross the road?" asked Cheese Boy, boldly trying out the same joke.

The audience roared, again before the punchline was delivered.

"Because the carrot was waiting!" continued Cheese Boy as the audience clapped and whistled in approval.

Cheese Boy went on to try out a few more fragmented jokes that only a preschool boy might find amusing. His jokes were hit and miss. Sometimes the audience ate it up, sometimes they booed and hissed. What an emotional roller coaster for my little stand up comic, but that's exactly what the experience of the MIND exhibit ("Center of Attention") was supposed to be, a simulated experience in front of a "live" audience. 

"Come on, " I said, stepping out of the limelight within the photo sized booth, its tiny walls covered in black fabric, "Let's go find the shadow box!" And with that, we skipped off through the Exploratorium, in search of strobe lights.

Original Chalk and Cheese Chronicles blog post.

A Boy With Taiko Dreams

Ei Ya Sa Ta Ya Sa!

Ei Ya Sa Ta Ya Sa!

Ei...Ya...Sa! Don! Don! Don! Don! Don! Don!

Omiyage, how can we forget you? You are our taiko souvenir. For months and months, we'd run around shouting out this phrase like maniacs. Sometimes we'd have our bachis (drum sticks) in hand which Grandpa made for us from dowels he found at Home Depot. Sometimes, we were forced to air drum, like we did that time at the Farmer's Market when we were bored. My brother even air drummed while doing the taiko stance, which is the way you stand when you bang a taiko drum, with one leg straight and the other one bent. People probably looked at him funny, but he didn't care. Sometimes we would beg our mom to pop in our taiko DVD and try to copy everything we saw. My brother would say, "Today, I'm Maz" but I usually tried to be Michelle even though I'm a boy.

It's not always easy trying to be a taiko drummer when you're only three years old. Toy stores just don't sell taiko drums. We've smashed through all of our toy drums. But we were lucky to inherit our Uncle Russ's old taiko drum which he told our mom he'd made out of a wooden salad bowl. We think it's super neat, but wish we had larger drums like the ones we see the real taiko drummers play. So sometimes we have to improvise, dumping over our two big, round bins of toys just so we can use the bin. This drives our mother crazy, as she doesn't like to see the room a mess. We steal our little Ikea table chairs, turning them upside down so they can be drum stands. Did you know that Grandma's wooden plant stands make excellent taiko drum stands when turned upside down? They do!

Grandpa's Garden

My Dad is always out in his backyard. Doing exactly what, my Mom and I are not sure. But he's always doing something. He never has fewer than a half-dozen projects going at one time, digging this, pruning that but in between, he takes the time to show his two grandsons the joys of his backyard.

My boys get to dig up carrots, pluck beans from vines, plant sunflower seeds and sample some of the best organic fruit around. From a tiny harvest of blueberries (all 30 of 'em) to the prolific offerings of the plum tree, fruit is always bountiful, always organic. My boys water plants and learn how things grow and how some foods get to our dinner table. They search for bugs and were happy to have Grandpa fasten a snail house out of strawberry baskets (see photo below) so they could observe snails up close. They are fascinated by bees. My boys love to run around the garden naming the different types of plants. They know that backyard intimately.

My Derailed Saturday Plans

For the past month, we've had plans to join our good friends Nora, Donn and their twin boys for a Saturday afternoon excursion aboard a real steam engine at Roaring Camp Railroads in Felton. Nora had landed some extra tickets to the Day Out With Thomas and had asked if we wanted to join them (thanks, Nora).  She and I were particularly excited because our part of the excursion would be limited to Nora's house in the Santa Cruz mountains where she and I would pass the time away chatting and drinking coffee while our husbands escorted the 4 boys on their railroading adventure. The plan was to rejoin our families for a meal of sushi in nearby Scott's Valley (Yeah, I know, there's no mention of sushi in "I've Been Working on the Railroad" but it works for me!)

It sounded like a grand plan.

But then things started started to look iffy. First, my husband decided to squeeze in a lunch with his one and only friend, promising to return home at an agreed upon time. However, while he was at lunch, Nora called to ask if we could come sooner. She'd just read the Roaring Camp's FAQs which advised that guests plan to arrive earlier than we had allowed for. I called my husband, begging him to come straight home, but he'd just sat down to eat with his friend. Grrr, grrr. He did not manage to make it home any earlier and when he did arrive home, I already had the car packed up. If we hurried, we might still make it. But as we were loading our boys into the car, one of them announced he had to poop.

Of course.

The First to Find Nemo!

The photo at left shows a Disney ride attendant slowly and calmly leading our little family and hundreds of park goers through the queuing area of one of Disneyland's top attractions, the Finding Nemo Submarine Voyage. The time is 8:14 am (this was last week, the week before the Memorial Day crowds) and he is pacing us, probably with the intention of having the day's first passenger step on board at exactly 8:15 am.

Yep, this is what it looks like to be the day's very first riders aboard the Nemo sub. This is an incredible feat considering that 1) I am not a huge Disney fan and 2) I'm rarely early for anything, let alone on time. So how, might you ask, did this happen? Or better yet, as I might ask myself, why did this happen? The simple answer is that I was nervous about my boys' willingness to tolerate a long line so we got to the park early. Super early. Super duper early. Super duper grumpy early.

Here's how we did it: