An Early Christmas Lesson

Most parents I know strive to raise good kids - not perfect kids, just good kids. And I place myself and Peter into that category. I think we've decided that while we have high expectations for Alex and place education at the forefront, and want him to be a responsible, self-reliant, consciencious, contributing member of society, at this stage there's no point in placing an undue burden on such a young mind. We haven't cracked open the SAT vocab study guide quite yet... Next year. But I feel that it isn't too early to teach Alex lessons in appreciation, humility, sharing, and the hardest of all - giving without expectations of return. And while this is a life long lesson, one that I re-learn on a regular basis, the terrible 2's seems like a great time to start.

I've got to give Alex major credit - he's very good at sharing; if I ask him to hand over a toy to another child, whether it's his own or somebody else's, he's usually compliant without too much fuss; but he knows that at the playground, if it's his own toy, he'll get it back, and if it's not his, there are plenty of others to use.




This week, Alex graduated from the concept of basic sharing to giving, as he participated in Operation Christmas Child through my MOPS group (Mothers of Preschoolers... life saver!) at the San Clemente Pres Church. My girlfriend Jess, who's the mom of Alex's BFF Anthony, and I, along with a couple other mommies from our group, collected shoeboxes filled with Christmas toys for Operation Christmas Child, that then will be distributed around the world through an organization called Samaritan's Purse.



I hit up the toys and school supply aisles at our local Wal-Mart, picking up coloring books, pencils and colorful erasers, crayons, street chalk, packs of Matchbox cars, a toy motorcycle, hard candy, and some wild animal figurines, all the time crossing my fingers that everything will fit into the box. As soon as I got home, Alex helped me wrap the biggest shoebox I could find (thank you men's shoes!) and we proceeded to squeeze in all the toys.



It took Alex about 1 second to identify what was going into the box - the package of 6 Matchbox cars immediately caught is eye, so we began the game of unpacking and repacking the box. Over and over and over again.



And Alex surveyed each toy item carefully before moving onto the next. But he always returned to the package of 6 cars. And there he sat, looking at me, babbling at me, "car car car," waiving the box frantically, trying to peel back the cardboard from the plastic display. And there I sat, responding to him that these toys were for a little boy someplace else in the world who didn't have baskets and bins full of toys, and that Alex was helping make somebody's Christmas a little more special, a little more fun, by giving away those cars. And then of course, I showed him the handful of his own Matchbox cars that were on the floor next to him. Apparently, they weren't as good as the ones sealed in the box, but that was to be expected. Toys are always better when they're for somebody else.

Eventually, Alex grew tired of trying to open the box of cars and me taking it away from him to repack the shoe box, or he was tired of listening to me tell him that the toys are for another "baby" (he calls all little kids babies.) So, he got over it, let me pack up the box one last time, label and rubber band it, and he went to the staircase and unpacked my remaining shopping bags.


I heard a funny crunching noise, and had no idea what was going on; I think at this point I had moved to unload the dishwasher and could here him babbling away and going through bags but I couldn't see him since he was around the corner - then I saw what he got into- he got a hold of the brand new diaper genie refill, and within 2 minutes, this was the result. I had 2 options, freak out or laugh hysterically. I chose the latter. Much less stress.

Happy Halloween, Belated

Better late than never I guess...



The week of Halloween marks the beginning of my favorite time of year; as a kid, naturally it was summer vacation, but given that's a distant memory, now I cling to the period of mid-fall to the New Year, or better known to me as my favorite time of year for Starbucks drinks. Yes, as soon as it's Pumpkin Spice Latte season, followed by Gingerbread Latte season, and I can break out my Uggs and some cashmere scarves (yes, we pretend it's chilly here... today was a perfect beach day, so the white xmas is clearly not going to happen unless we drive to it, which is actually on the agenda for Alex's bday) I'm a happy girl. Maybe I'm nostalgic for the fall foliage I grew up with, maybe I'm just craving a change of wardrobe.



While it's technically not Alex's first Halloween, it's his first year at the pumpkin patch; perhaps I was more excited about it than he was, but, he did enjoy practicing using his new word (pumpkin) and throwing them around (everything round is still seen as a ball.)



Being a pumpkin enthusiast although a big of a Halloween grinch (I don't dress up) we made several trips to the local pumpkin patch at the petting zoo in San Juan. We also went to Pumpkin City, a parking lot that got completely transformed into a fall carnival, perfect for a 2 year old's first ride without a parent. Alex is lucky enough to have his BFF, Anthony, available for lots of activities, so the two of them got to celebrate the harvest season together.



When it came to costume time, things didn't go so well.



I was so excited for the Pottery Barn Pumpkin costume I got him, and was delighted when he insisted on wearing the stem hat (sorta like a beret according to my less-than-pleased husband) - but unfortunately, the second the actual costume went on, things went south.


We did an initial rehearsal, as an attempt to get him used to it; that lasted longer than the day of; I was so excited to take him trick-or-treating, but the second the costume went on, he freaked out, and no amount of chocolate bribery did the trick.


I got Alex outside as far as our next door neighbor's house, and the meltdown began; so we returned home and took of the costume and waited for trick-or-treaters. None came.


Of course, the USC game was on, and Pete was more than thrilled to be home for it, and since it was my mom's bday, she stopped by and hung out long enough to see Alex in his 2 minute outfit; now, I'm eating all the leftover candy.

But at least I got some cute pictures out of it anyway.

93%

93%. That's the reading on the oxygen monitor that made my heart drop yesterday.

Alex had another asthma flare up at 3am Monday; it started as it has in the past, a slight cold virus, nothing big - runny nose, that's about it, most likely no fever. Then, I hear the cough. That's my signal to start bringing out the big guns. So that's what we did. We added the emergency inhalant to his regular nightly regimen, hoping for the best, but this time we had a feeling that this might turn badly, so we braced ourselves for an asthma attack, and put Alex to bed with us. A minute later, he sat up and launched a missile size projectile vomit that his our entire headboard, Pete's head, soaked all four down pillows, me, the duvet and cover, through the sheets, down to the mattress cover. Alex and Pete hopped in the shower and I got the task of major toxic spill clean up and laundry that lasted for what has felt like days.... our poor pillows had to take a road trip to the dry cleaners. At 3am, we woke up to a restless, wheezing baby, and so we did another breathing treatment as Alex whimpered because he couldn't breath and have his pacifier. Pete and I sat quietly in the dark as we watched the rapidity of his breathing increase, visible in his tummy, which meant that his airwaves were beginning to constrict. And then we heard the sound that I hate most in this world - a hoarse noise like crumpling paper emerged from Alex's lungs. Things were not going well. Once the breathing treatment kicked in, he fell asleep, and the concerned parents sat and watched for what seemed like an eternity. When I looked at the clock, it was after 4, then 530... then I saw the sun rise.

At 830am Alex awoke in our room, he refused his morning milk, refused to get out of bed, and just sat against the pillows, motionless, concentrating on his ability to breath. BIG RED FLAG. This is bad. I quickly grabbed the oral liquid steroid and gave him his emergency dose, then got on the phone with the specialist we first saw last April after his last hospitalization; 20 minutes later I had Alex in the car and we were about to head up the freeway to Tustin (the doctor has 3 offices, unfortunately this morning he was on the other side of the county.) Just as we were about to pull out, Alex had a coughing fit and projectile vomited all over himself. And me. So I got him out of the car, cleaned him up, changed him, changed me, wiped down the car seat, and off we went, this time successfully.

Once in the exam room, the doctor listened to his lungs; air was passing in and out, but he was having difficulty doing it, and the doctor likened his breathing to running a marathon - it was taking all of his strength just to be able to inhale and exhale, which is why he couldn't do anything else, and eventually, a little baby will run out of steam... the doctor set up another breathing treatment with the emergency meds, this one was even stronger than the stuff we had at home; I told him that I tried giving him the oral steroid but he's unable to keep it down; Dr. L left the room while I administered the breathing treatment and was surprised to have a cooperative baby who seemed to find relief in the medication entering his lungs; when Dr L came back in, he popped a chew tablet in Alex's mouth. A chewable oral steroid which won't cause Alex to barf.

Brilliant.

Dr L then pulled out his very fancy oxygen meter (not like the ghetto ones at the pediatrician's office that don't usually work). 93%. That's not good. And there Alex hovered. And Dr. L groaned.
93% is the lowest that we can go without an automatic hospitalization. CHOC was the last place I wanted Alex to be this week - the pediatric wards in the hospital are FULL of kids with the flu right now, I was terrified that while there, he'd pick something else up, besides the fact that it's a cold, scary, sterile, uncomfortable place to spend a couple of days. And last April was enough for us, I didn't want a repeat.

But the medication started to kick in, and before my eyes, my little man's personality started to show through.

"Mo Mo.... babble babble... Mo Mo." Alex exclaimed.

"Yes, Elmo is here with us." Replied tired mommy.

"Wow, can I see Elmo?" Asked exceptionally attentive doctor who's amazing with babies.

"Mo Mo eh Mo Mo!" Alex picked up Elmo who patiently sat next to Alex during the breathing treatment.

"Nose." Alex pointed to the appropriate facial feature.

"Nose." Repeated doctor.

"Eyes." said Alex.

"Hair."

"Mouth."

"Ears." He went through all the parts.

I could only smile. His breathing improved fast enough that he didn't have to pay attention to it, and now he was busy showing off his words.

Another listen and Dr. L said that things already sounded a little bit better. We'd been there for about an hour by now. And his tummy wasn't having to work as hard as it had been just 60 minutes prior.

So Dr. L sent us home, giving me strict instructions to watch Alex's belly - something I already knew to do... - and I know what I'm looking for - if I notice that he has to work his whole tummy, shoulders, chest, to breath, it's off to the ER.

By yesterday afternoon, Alex seemed to be doing a million times better - he wanted to play with his toys, chase the dogs, and by dinner, he was ready to eat something - finally! By bedtime, he was bouncing on the cushion-less sofa, as we had made a fort; the color was back in his cheeks, and Pete and I started to feel some relief. I still skipped wine with dinner, just in case if I had to make a middle of the night emergency trip to Mission Hospital.

So, we're back on breathing treatments every 4 hours, chewy steroid for 5 days, and as of this morning's follow up appointment, he's on the mend. There's still wheezing, but he had a quick turn around since we caught it before it went really south.
It looks like we're avoiding the hospital this week. Thank God.

Something for which to be very grateful.

Alex even ate meatballs in tomato sauce for lunch and kept it down, so of course, not knowing how else to reward my little trooper, we added to our Thomas the Train Collection. He really did need that water tower.

We have another follow up on Friday just to be sure. But so far, it's been a good day.

The Birds and the Bees

Apparently there is a conversation that my husband and I are going to be having with our son a whole lot sooner than I ever planned... in fact, this is the type of conversation that I was planning never to have -truly, a mother's worst nightmare- I was hoping that his Godfather (ahem, Dave) or best friend's dad or somebody else would go ahead and have it. But alas, my child has proven himself to be quiet the little ladykiller, and has discovered the appeal of the fairer sex on all his own.

It started very innocently.

Last weekend we went on a family field trip to the market down the street from our house. For some odd reason, Pete enjoys walking over to the gourmet Ralph's with me, and I'm never one to pass up family time, so there the three of us were. Alex loves to ride in the cars attached to the front of the carts, and I allow him despite my total child-germ aversion, I just make sure to Lysol wipe the contraption before I let him tough it. It gives me peace of mind. After we picked up a few items, and Alex scored a free cookie from the lady in the bakery section who noticed that the samples were gone (they give full cookie size samples, and my child knows exactly where they are) we went to go pay.

We know almost every employee at this Ralph's, since we live next door, I buy fresh produce there almost daily, and they opened within a week or so of Alex's birth, and have maintained the same staff since then; typically, Alex gets applause, smiles, balloons, and a high five from a bevy of older ladies, dads, or the fish guy who's kind enough to slice my tilapia fillets in half for me because it really grosses me out when I have to do it. But on Saturday, we met a new cashier.

I didn't notice that it was a new cashier until we got up towards the front of my line.

But my child did.

Alex first noticed the cashier as we stood next to the candy. Instead of pulling Almond and Peanut bars off the shelves or banging on the plastic case of DVD's or making faces in the knee-high mirror, he was focused on the young lady who was smiling at him as she started to swipe our groceries.

And he smiled. and he kept smiling. And he went from his usual creamy vanilla colored complexion to a slightly bashful crimson. And for a minute he played coy, shy, hard to get, but I think he realized the cashier was in a league that required more swagger, panache, un peu d'elan.

I looked up to see the sudden change in my child's behavior and realized what was going on. I elbowed my husband, who had figured it out a good two minutes before me, as he was trying very hard to stifle his laughter.

Our lovely cashier was about 17 yrs old. Very petite with striking eyes, lashes elongated my good mascara, a ski-jump nose, a perfectly glossed pink mouth, high cheekbones, and brown wavy hair that fell to her mid-back. She was extremely pretty, I'd have to say a cross between a softer Kristin Stewart meets Rachel Bilson. You get the picture.

Apparently Alex had to think fast to get a conversation going, and it went something like this:

Alex: "Hi."

Cashier "Hi."

Alex: "Hi."

Cashier: "Hi."

Groceries were all placed into our reusable cloth bags, and it was time for Pete to pay.

Cashier: "Well, bye."

Alex: "Bye."

Cashier: "Bye."

Alex: "Bye."

Cashier: "Bye bye."

Alex: "NOSE." And he proudly pointed to his nose and the rest of the parts of his face that we practice. Eyes, ears, mouth, hair.

This was Alex's big pick up line.

At this point Pete was cracking up and started walking out with Alex in his arms as I collected the grocery bags. I didn't know what to do. How to react.

I'm not ready for Alex to have his first girlfriend.

Lucky Me!

Lucky Me!

I get my very own neurologist.

This past Wednesday I went to my primary physician, who has been a patient of my eye doctor for the past 20 years (yes, they're both from former Czechoslovakia... my people stick together) and as soon as she got his notes faxed to her office about my little eye dilemma, she got on the phone with him, and they both decided that this is beyond either expertise and that I need a specialist. So I'm being sent to doctor #3.

In the meantime, her office needs to send the referral to the insurance company for approval (or not...) and then get back to me to give me the green light to make the appointment. I have no idea how long this is going to take, to get the referral, to get the appointment. So I've decided to find inspiration in the amazing Emily Miner who seems to have positive vibes emanating from every pore, and as Jo Jo mentioned to me, she's a glass is half full kind of girl while I'm a doomsday kind of chic - and I'm not going to freak or panic until the appropriate time. Or at least, that's what I'm going to tell myself during the waiting game. Luckily, Alex keeps me so busy that the only time that I have to myself per 24 hours cycle is my 10 minutes in the shower....

I was warned that I'll be in for some tests, scans, potential muscle biopsy (yes, that kinda freaked me out) - which I'm not too thrilled about because I'm a giant chicken when it comes to any medical procedure, and my doctor said that they may find out what's going on, they may not be able to and that'll be the end of it...

So, that's where we stand.

Pete's been swamped at work this week and so I'm hoping that he'll be on board with my vote tonight of packing up Alex and heading out for good greasy Mexican food and Margaritas. I think my little eye could use one.

Sometimes, things go Sideways.

Yesterday, things went unexpectedly sideways during a doctor's appointment, in a when it rains, it pours, it hails, it goes tsunami, kind of way.

A few weeks ago during a routine eye exam to get my contact lens prescription refilled, my doctor, who's a good family friend, noticed my left eye has a droopy lid. Pete and I noticed it not long after Alex was born, which inspired his pet name for me, Little Eye, which usually surfaces when I'm really tired - which for the past 21 months, is pretty much always.

My Doctor had me follow the top of a pen, and he noticed then that my eye lags. Ok, so what? My sight wasn't affected by this, and my droopy eyelid, however cosmetically unappealing, really doesn't bother me that much. That's what sunglasses are for. He asked me if I get headaches, I said of course I do - lack of sleep, caffeine addiction, missed meals, dehydration, occasional screaming toddler - I'm a mommy, yes, it's par for the course. He said he thought I had a thyroid issue, and sent me to get blood drawn.

Which I thought was weird, since last February, my physician had said the same thing, had ordered a blood panel, and everything came back negative. But I went anyway and had the screen.

Turns out, nothing showed up on my thyroid screen, so he had me come back to see him.

So, yesterday, I did. I went in for a visual field test - nothing painful, just unpleasant - I had one eye covered, and stared into a light with the other eye, and every time a flash of light appeared in my peripheral vision, I clicked a mouse.

25 minutes later, my doctor came into the exam room to see me. He looked at the results of the field test.

"You passed with flying colors." and he scrunched his forehead.

"Thats' good, right?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm really happy about that. Usually poor results on a peripheral vision test coupled with what I'm seeing in your left eye would be a good indicator of a lesion or obstruction, about 80%."

I looked at him, confused. "What do you mean, a lesion or obstruction?"

My doctor paused. "A tumor."

"You were testing to see if I could have a tumor?" At this point, I think my jaw hit the floor, my face went white, and all I wanted to do was throw up, but since I missed lunch, it turned more into a quiet dry heave.

"We're just casting a net here." I think he noticed the lack of color in my face. "I still think it's your thyroid, even though the blood work shows nothing, this is a clinical diagnosis. Your nerves look fine."

"ok..." the nerves in my eye might be find, but in general, my nerves are not fine at this point.

"I want you to go home, put an ice pack over your left eye for 2 minutes, look in the mirror, and if your lid goes up, you have to call us. And don't worry."

Don't worry, huh? Does he not realize who he's talking to?
I repeated the directions, gathered my things, and called Pete. Probably a bad idea, since I started sobbing on the phone the second I said the "T" word. I think I caught him off guard, since he wasn't expecting this type of news, and when I told him about the ice pack test at home, he started to wonder what type of backwoods non-medical nonsense was going on. I was crying too much to be able to drive well, so I had to get off the phone to collect myself. Once I pulled it together, I got in the car and went home.

My mom was watching Alex (who was technically asleep) so I told her the good news was that my thyroid doesn't seem to be the problem, bad news is that it's likely something else, and she took it in and was surprisingly calm about it, and told me to go put ice on my eye.
So I did.
And I looked in the mirror.
And my eye opened up, I watched it change shape. This wasn't good.

So I called my doctor's office back, gave them the results, and my doctor immediately got on the phone. He told me that I'll need to do the ice test again, once isn't enough, but he thinks it's Myasthenia, which goes hand in hand with thyroid. And that I'll have to get a blood test done to confirm.

So of course, I run upstairs to google Myasthenia, to learn about this rare (as in 20-40 out of 100,000) diagnosis. It's most likely chronic, but not progressive (that's the good news) although there are cases that do resolve themselves; it's treatable, and most likely in my case, exclusively ocular (I freaked out when I read that it can affect smiling, chewing, swallowing, and sometimes neck and limbs.) My doctor said that my case was probably brought on by a surge of hormones during my pregnancy, which is what triggered it, and which explains why it goes right alongside thyroid. Risk factors include a family history of thyroid and diabetes, and unfortunately, I have to check those boxes, as well as is believed to be linked to respiratory problems in kids (um, asthma sound familiar?) In some cases, medication isn't even needed, and I'm hoping I'm that case, and good diet and plenty of rest can keep the symptoms at bay (as in rest means no droopy eyelid, how about that? We figured that out for ourselves.)

I emailed Peter our new potential diagnosis, the info that I found about it, and he immediately did his own research; he read that the ice test is the quickest way to find out if the problem eyelid is in fact suffering from muscle weakness, fatigue, which is what this is - and the ice "wakes up" the muscle which causes the eye to reflex open - which is what happened.

So, after a rather scary couple of hours, I was feeling a little bit better, although not much; my girlfriend came to my rescue after I emailed her what was going on, she had fresh pumpkin bread at her house, so I grabbed a bottle of Beaujolais, packed up the child, his dinner, and we had a much needed play date which calmed my nerves.

My doctor told me on the phone that we're all human, we're all going to have something... so I guess this is mine.

It Only Took 7 Years

That's right. We FINALLY took a vacation, the first since our honeymoon over 7 years ago! And I mean, it was a a true, proper, weekend to weekend vacation - not a long weekend that actually got cut short because of work, not an extra couple of days tacked on to an out of town deposition, not an East Coast wedding that had us flying in late Friday night and home early Sunday morning (we've done that twice and it's tough) - but 9 days of family time. (Although the rules were slightly bent, Pete still had to have his blackberry at all times and actually did break at the laptop at least once a day for 1-2 hours, but I'll take what I can get.)




We were originally going to go to Hawaii, but, since we live at the beach, and neither of us have ever been to the Napa Valley before, and we love Carmel, we thought we'd head up on to Northern California since it's harvest time and the Fall is starting to settle.

Saturday
By 730 Saturday morning, Alex was in the car seat, hot steamy Starbuck's was in hand, and we were off. We made it to San Francisco without incident, having figured out that the key to a long car trip with a child is a couple of stops to let him run around, and plenty of Elmo. Yes. I sat in the back seat with Alex, computer in my lap, and during awake time, he happily watched Elmo in Grouchland, Elmo's Faces, Elmo and the Earth, Elmo's Sing Along Guessing Game... until we got to our hotel - avoiding a major meltdown during stop and go traffic on the toll into the city.



We were totally zonked by the time we got there, but we quickly cleaned up and walked over to Ghiradelli, where there happened to be a Chocolate Festival going on, so we treated Alex to his favorite caramel chocolates and let him run around the grass like a maniac. Dinner wasn't so easy - he usually won't sit in a high chair for more than 5 minutes, so we found a great seafood spot and took turns eating while the other parent played with Alex outside. I stopped in a tasting room, picked up some wine, and we headed back to the hotel to order a movie and a nightcap.




Sunday
Sunday fatigue hit us, Alex was full of energy, so we walked around Pier 39,

grabbed a late breakfast, felt like total tourists, and saw that the child, however well behaved he was on travel day, was going to be less than angelic as punishment for so much car time. We luckily found a small playground that made him very happy for about 30 minutes, and before we knew it, noon hit us, we needed to check out, and hit the road to coincide with the nap schedule. So we bid farewell to SF and headed out to Napa. Luckily, Alex fell asleep in the car as we passed Berkley, the drive was a lot shorter than I thought it would be, and we found ourselves outside the hotel with a sleeping child. God forbid to wake him, so we decided to take a little auto tour of our new area, found Silverado Trail, and ended up in the beautiful Stag's Leap District, driving by none other than Miner! Very excited about that. Alex soon awoke, we checked in to our suite (which, when traveling with a child who doesn't do well in restaurants, is an absolute must for any extended period)- which was actually like a nice size apartment, much bigger than Pete's law school apartment - kitchen, dining table, small living room, balcony, king bedroom, huge bathroom - and we settled in for the next 5 days.

Monday







We owed it to Alex to do child friendly activities, so Monday morning we headed to Calistoga and hit up the Petrified Forest, which had a nice little walking trail in the smallish mountains around Calistoga. From there, we went to the Geyser across the way, and of course, highlight for the child, was the feeding of the animals - there were goats, sheep, llamas, and so $3.00 in quarters for feed kept our toddler extremely amused.



We hit up beautiful St. Helena for a quick lunch, picked up amazing wines for the hotel room that night, and stopped at Woodhouse Chocolates,

the sweet boutique owned and operated by a Scripps and CMC husband and wife team.

I was in heaven. So was Alex. He loves chocolate.

Tuesday



First winery on my agenda was of course, Miner! I wanted it to be Alex's first winery, so we headed on over past Stag's Leap, past Mumm, Paraduxx, and hit up Miner. Dave Miner was at the counter when we got there (Emily wasn't there) so I introduced myself as Jo's friend from college, and had the honor of spending an hour with Dave. It was my first Napa Valley tasting, and after years of being turned off of Merlot, having consumed enough bad Merlot to make my head spin, Miner brought me back; we bought some Viognier, some Chardonnay, Alex played with a huge jar full of corks, and then Dave gave us the grand tour of the caves, which Alex absolutely loved. It was a wonderful way to start the wine portion of our trip.





We hopped back on the road, took Zinfandel to cut across to the 29, and stopped at V. Sattui, a lovely setting that had beautiful picnic grounds, an amazing deli, and wine available for purchase only on-site.



Back at the hotel, we played bocci ball, Alex's new favorite past time, and soaked in the pool.



This became a nightly ritual, with amazing wines waiting for us back in the room.



Wednesday
After picking up the MOST amazing produce I've ever seen, including tomatoes to die for, we drove back towards St. Helena in search of Frog's Leap - only to discover that the map that we were using actually had a type - the only typo... was Frog's Leap's location - and so Frog's Leap was actually in opposite direction.

We took Holly's advice and stopped for Ahi Burgers at Taylor's Automatic Refresher -



it was instant love, and we ended up doing that every day until we left. So damn good.



A little weary, we finally got to Frog's Leap



(no goats, they were rented), and while we didn't do a tasting (Alex wouldn't have it) we walked the gorgeous grounds and bought a couple of bottles of red and white.





This place was so tranquil, so beautiful, if I could built a garden, I'd have my landscape architect visit this place.




Thursday




This was our final full day in Napa, so we wanted to make the best of it. We stopped back at Taylor's for lunch
(yes, it's that good, and it had a picnic area which is great for toddlers who need to run) and went back up to Calistoga to visit Chateau Montelana.


How could we not? Bottle Shock is one of my favorite movies. (despite the artistic leeway it took with the true facts - turns out, Mike Grgich of Grgich, who makes my absolute favorite white wine, was the winemaker of the white that won the Paris tasting in 1976, not Jim Barrett, owner of Chateau Montelana.)


Montelana's grounds were more exquisite than visible in the movie (there's a pond and a series of bridges), and while the picnic area is only available for Club members, guests are free to meander. Pete was driving and didn't feel like tasting, so he played outside with Alex while I popped in and tasted 2 whites, 3 reds; I picked up a few bottles for the upcoming holiday season, and we set off to my beloved Grgich.

Again, tasting is tough even though Grgich full allows kids in the tasting room and invited Alex in, but he likes to run, dismantle, sing (scream happily), throw things, so it just wasn't going to happen - so sweet husband that I have, told me to do the tasting while he and Alex played in the vineyard - they have sample grapes of every type right at the entrance where guests are free to walk and taste the grapes, apparently an activity that Alex found exciting, and it kept him busy during the duration of my 5 glasses. I bought more wine, and sticking to the nap schedule, we were off to the hotel, where the evening found us playing bocci, swimming, and as usual, enjoying the beautiful produce and baked goods and cheeses from the Oxbow Market behind our hotel.

Friday



We took things easy, knowing we had another long drive ahead of us, walked Alex around the hotel grounds, checked out, and stopped at... Taylor's for more Ahi Burgers, a block behind our hotel. We had parked our car right outside of a tasting room called Gustavo Thrace, which I had been eyeing all week but never went into, so we decided, before leaving, that we should take a peek. It turns out, this is the wine of Gustavo Brambillo, (again, see Bottle Shock and this will make sense to you), and we had the privilege of meeting him, and he autographed the bottles that we bought for ourselves and for my mom. The timing was right on with Alex's nap schedule, so we plopped him in the car and drove to Monterey. We checked into the lovely Monterey Hotel and Spa on Cannery Row, and enjoyed an evening on the ocean.



Saturday
We love Carmel, although found it to be much more dog friendly than kid friendly, so we stuck to the beach where Alex felt at home, walked around town for a few minutes, picked up picnic fare at Bruno's Market, and found a spot along 17 Miles Drive to eat.





Unfortunately, the seagulls were all over us and the seaweed brought in flies, so as soon as we managed to shove enough food into Alex to feel like good parents, we got back in the car and headed back to the hotel for - yes... nap time, which coincided with the USC game. While Alex slept and Pete watched his favorite football team lose to Washington, I escaped to the top floor spa, where I got myself on the elliptical to try to work off all the wine calories I'd consumed over the course of the week, hopped into the rooftop jacuzzi overlooking the ocean, read a novel by the outdoor fireplace, spent a few minutes in the sauna, took a steam shower - and I finally felt like I was on vacation. Amazing what 2 hours of off-duty time can do for the mommy soul.





When Alex awoke and Pete licked his wounds, we headed over to the Aquarium - which, in all honesty, is a bit of a disappointment after Sea World (we were there last month and it was amazing.) But, Alex loved the jellyfish and the simulated waves, so it wasn't a total downer. Although, we ate at Bubba Gump Shrimp afterwards, and it's definitely tough eating seafood after walking through an aquarium.

Sunday
We bid farewell to Northern California, and headed home. The drive was longer than from home to SF, but Elmo saved the day. Poor Alex finally got car sick and projectile vomitted all over the back seat, but luckily we turned off at Griffith Park, I disinfected the car seat and child, we walked around for a few minutes, and turned Elmo back on.
We got home safe and sound, picked up the dogs, delivered my mom her autographed bottle of Gustavo Thrace red, and Alex and I were in bed by 930.

It's good to be home, but we had a wonderful time.