Wednesday, May 2, 2012

The Lasting Effects Of The Mini Family Vacation

Spring Break is officially over. Henry is back at his 3rd week of school and statewide testing is in full swing. Frances turned one on the 23rd and my mom's 10-day visit ended today. The two weeks H had off seem like a far-off, distant memory and yet the lasting effects of that quality family time spent together are still being felt.

Why?

We got away and took a vacation – our first ever as a foursome.

Don’t get me wrong our family has taken trips before visiting relatives. I say trips because I don’t count those visits as vacations, since there’s always a lap or a shoulder to burp on, an extra hand to change a diaper. And when we’re at my mom’s, forget about seeing Henry. He disappears with his older cousin Joe to play video games, watch movies, and do whatever it is they do for hours on end.

No, we knew this trip would be totally different.

Traveling with kids, in our case an 8-year-old and a 1-year-old, presents challenges. Frances is a scheduled baby – not something we foisted upon her, it’s just who she happens to be. If she’s not down for her naps and bedtime like clockwork she turns into a shrieking, little, albeit cute, red-faced monster. Also, she’s entered an incredibly annoying I hate being in my car seat phase. This means if she’s not asleep when she's in the car our cute little red-faced monster will undoubtedly make an appearance. Knowing all this sweet hell lay before us, my husband and I decided so what?

We’ll never get this time back.

Go for it.

I have vivid, wonderful memories of traveling with my family as a child. We would drive (all five of us - three little girls and my parents - packed in the car) to Wisconsin from Florida. If my parents survived the chaos of that, then we could manage a two hour drive for a quick two night stay (all I could manage to carve out of my busy schedule).

Oh but all the gear - diapers, stroller, toys, bottles, formula, wipes, jammies, books, and, and, and, and, and...

I confess I have always had a secret mad crush on the nattily dressed families who seem to travel well with multiple kids. In airports, I find myself staring longingly at the fresh faced, relaxed parents, smiling and laughing as their perfectly well behaved children trot behind them, toting their one minimum, snugly packed wheelie bags and small, cheerful candy colored knapsacks filled with what I can only assume are the few carefully chosen toys they’ve been allowed to bring.

These people are not we. We are not they. Nor will we ever be.

We, with our (until recently) one child, have always been the family at the airport with the mismatched, over-packed luggage, rushing through security only to find we packed an errant full bottle of water or giant tube of sunscreen in our carry-on.

How could we ever pull off this mini-vacation with grace, dignity and jocularity?

Easy.

We were, I decided, going to act like adults and suck it up. After all, a vacation is a privilege that I’m grateful we are lucky enough to be able to take.

I'm sharing the discoveries we made in the event some of you might find them helpful when planning a sojourn in the SoCal area.

First on the agenda, where to go? The age spread between the kids is big – seven years. They (understandably) have completely different interests. Frances is a smarty sponge, yet has the attention span of what you’d expect from a fidgety one year-old. Her main interests lately are cruising, banging things together and mouthing everything in sight. At the moment, big boy Henry loves Star Wars, Ninjago and Justice League Unlimited (it’s very important that I make the distinction that JL Unlimited is cool but regular JL is babyish. Got it? Good.) H also has a new obsession, the history of the American Presidents.

Okay, so in order to entertain them both all we needed to find was a child friendly, action packed, history filled destination.

We gave H a few choices and when he heard Legoland (in Carlsbad, CA) http://california.legoland.com/ had just opened a new Star Wars exhibit http://california.legoland.com/explore/rides_and_attractions/miniland_usa/STAR-WARS-Miniland/, the deal was sealed. Good choice. We’d been to Legoland before and knew the variety of attractions would appeal to both kids. Plus, its slow, easy pace and bright, colorful visual stimulation would be perfect for Frances.

Done. Decision made.

Next on the agenda, where to stay? We’ve been to the San Diego area before and bunked at a few very nice hotels. But for this trip we wanted something even more special – not only family friendly, but lovely and laid back. After some research we landed on the historic Hotel Del Coronado in Coronado, CA.

We've heard about the Del for years from friends who rave about it. Perusing their website, http://www.hoteldel.com/ - looking at the beautiful, white, seaside Victorian palace, with its perfectly manicured grounds leading right to the beach - it looked like just the right spot. 


The hotel was built in 1888 and is a National Historic Landmark teeming with history. (Big plus for us with Henry). A host of celebrities and dignitaries have stayed there and even one of my favorite films, “Some Like It Hot,” was shot on premises. Most exciting though, is the resident ghost they boast to have. Henry flipped when he heard about the ghost, but got even more excited when he heard about all the presidents who have been there – including FDR (his number 1 favorite), Benjamin Harrison, William Taft, Lyndon Johnson, James Earl Carter, Jr., & William Jefferson Clinton to name a few. Did I mention the kid’s gone gaga for Presidential history?

The plan was (and I say was because nothing ever goes as planned, right?) to arrive late Monday afternoon and explore Coronado, then eat dinner at the hotel and hit the sack. Tuesday we would eat breakfast at the hotel then onto Legoland. The late afternoon would be spent visiting a dear old friend from grad school and his wife and kids. Dinner that night would be at the hotel again, after which we would fall blissfully into bed and sleep 8 full hours. Wake. Eat breakfast. Stroll on the beach and leave. The drive there and back to LA I would use to prepare for an important upcoming meeting.

I then made a series of lists, determined to pack conservatively. I didn’t want us lugging around our usual unnecessary crap this time, so I charted out the kids outfits for each day, carefully counted out diapers, formula, bottles, snacks – limiting the choice of toys they could take – harder for Henry, easier for Frances. My husband and I threw a few things in our bags (this time I made sure they matched) and off we went.

First glitch.

We left about 3 hrs. later than planned.

I know we’re not the only family who has trouble getting out of the house. Blown out diapers, dilly-dallying. It happens.

On the drive to San Diego baby slept – thankfully – while big brother read books and played games on the iPad, leaving dad some rare brain space for his own thoughts. I wore earplugs and worked the entire way. 

Nice.

My fantasy was materializing. Maybe we weren’t nattily dressed, but we definitely were proving to be a relaxed and happy family.

2 hrs. later, as we drove over the Coronado Bridge, the baby woke up and our little red-faced monster made her 1st appearance.

H, who has gotten very good at comforting his little sister, held her pudgy hand and kept popping her paci back into her mouth. Somehow, despite her shrill shrieking, we managed to take in the sights. Coronado is the most adorable little beach town – http://www.coronadovisitorcenter.com/CVC/History.html
http://www.coronadovisitorcenter.com/CVC/Photos.html  – and I immediately wished we had booked a longer stay.

Fried from the last few minutes of our drive, with our eardrums bursting, we arrived at The Del and instantly, miraculously F calmed down. Maybe because the lobby has such a dark paneled, welcoming, turn of the century, tranquil vibe. Henry stared wide-eyed with excitement, noting how everything looked like the pictures he’d seen in the history books he’s been reading. And I knew just what he meant. If it weren’t for the luxurious pool, spa and all of the comforts of 21st century pampering, it would be easy to think you’d stepped back “Somewhere in Time.” Again, I immediately wished we had booked a longer stay

Checking in, the staff couldn't have been more lovely and attentive. They even gave Henry a pass to the Kid’s Club – too bad we wouldn’t be there long enough for him to check it out. 

Our initial plan was to have dinner at the hotel with H (we had wanted to eat at their restaurant 1500 but there was no availability so we opted for the more casual Sheerwater. We had reserved a babysitter for the wee one. F is, as I said, super scheduled and we knew taking her to dinner wouldn’t be fair to her. There are a few babysitting services that work with the hotels in the San Diego area. An email exchange with the hotel’s concierge suggested we use http://www.destinationsitters.com/ (they turned out to be excellent, btw – I highly recommend. We will definitely be using them again). While waiting in line to talk to the concierge about our dinner reservation, I overheard him making a reservation for another family at a restaurant called Urban Solace http://www.urbansolace.net/ a casually chic neighborhood place that sounded unbelievably delicious. We are foodies in this house and the description he was giving of some of the menu items had me drooling like a Saint Bernard in the Sahara.

Change of plan. We booked a table at Urban Solace then went to our room to unpack and get settled in. 


The room was beautiful. Simply decorated in an elegant coastal décor. And they had given us a perfect ocean view of the Pacific. What more could we ask for? After the bellman brought up a sweet crib for F, H unpacked his toys, and we got F all cozy, bottled up and ready for bed.

The babysitter arrived – a lovely young woman who immediately put us at ease. The way she and Frances hit it off helped alleviate any worries I had about leaving our precious cargo with her. F was pretty much ready to go down when we left, so we gave kisses and buh byes and pulled ourselves away. She’s a hard one to part with, our blue-eyed beauty.

As we strolled back through the lobby, Henry peppered us with all kinds of questions about the ghost, so we stopped in the gift shop "Est. 1888." We’d been told by the concierge that the ladies who worked in the shop were experts on the hotel’s history, in particular the resident ghost. So we pumped the cashier with questions and found out some interesting details about this famous spectral visitor – Kate Morgan. I have to admit I even got a few spine tingly chills when she told us items have gone flying off the shelves in the store… spookyhttp://www.sandiego.org/article/Visitors/1508 http://www.ghost-investigators.com/Stories/view_story.php?story_num=1 

Divine dinner at Urban Solace. Not to be missed if you ever go to San Diego. Must tries are: warm cheese biscuits with honey butter, duckaroni, arugula salad, beef cheeks and the bacon wrapped trout. We ate like piggies, while Henry educated us on obscure facts about our nation’s presidents. I savor this one on one time with him now. He was our only for seven years and has been extremely patient with his new sister, who gets so much attention these days… dinner that night is one I will remember for a long time.

Home – the hotel – we fell into our beds as a snoozing Frances slept soundly in her crib nearby. The room was comfortably dark and after much assurance from us that the ghost would not make a visit, H fell asleep and so did we.

Next morning, we were up bright and early thanks to our new alarm clock, baby F. Everyone was happy and excited about our Legoland adventure. We ordered room service, deciding it would be easier to eat in the room rather than schlep everyone downstairs. When traveling with kids, the less stress the better.

Glitch number two.

The food arrived just as Frances made it known to all that it was time for her morning nap. Solution? Curtains were drawn and lights dimmed. As we ate in silence, shushing Henry’s every utterance, he grumbled: Not fair!

He was right. It sucked eating breakfast in the dark.

I realized, only after it was too late to move her, that our closet was large enough to hold F’s crib. Note to all parents traveling with babes, bathrooms and closets make nice little nurseries. Babies gets the quiet they need and the rest of the family doesn’t have to do so much tip toeing around. IMPORTANT - MAKE SURE IF YOU DO THIS THE AREA YOU CHOOSE IS LARGE AND WELL VENTILATED! We actually kept the door cracked.

As we quietly waited for Frances to wake up, my husband confessed he had had a strange occurrence the night before. He said it was like someone was pouring a glass of water right next to his ear. Henry was convinced it was the ghost of Kate Morgan.

On our way out, we stopped in to see our friend, the concierge Joe, to thank him and tell him how wonderful last night’s dinner had been. We started talking about the hotel’s history and he very kindly arranged for one of the security guards to give us a private tour of the Crown Room – which was closed at the moment.

Apparently, L. Frank Baum, author of "The Wizard of Oz? books and a once frequent guest, had designed the chandeliers. Another history lesson for Henry. What a perk.

Later at Legoland, H (as expected) had a blast at the Star Wars miniland. The models were amazing and H was totally inspired to go home and work on his own.





He also got to see a 3-D Lego Star Wars movie. Don't ask me what it was about... my focus was elsewhere.

Glitch number three.

Frances was in my lap when a few minutes into the movie she started fussing. One thing I know about my kid, she only cries when something’s wrong (or she wakes up in the car), so Nathan grabbed her and made a mad dash for the door before she went all Christian Bale/Mel Gibson on us. Later, when we hooked back up, he told us she had taken a massive poop. (Of course. It’s always poop). Furthermore, when he changed her she proceeded to pee Lake Eerie all over the changing table. Poor daddy in hell. Solution? None. You can’t predict these things. Babies poop when they have to. Pee also.

We spent the rest of the day tooling around the park, checking out the mini Washington DC, the bust of George Washington, Dino Island, and of course there was the obligatory stop at the Lego store where Henry was allowed to choose one small Lego set. And Ninjago it was. He was a happy, happy boy.

Late afternoon was spent with our good friend and his family. As the kids played and we caught up on the years since grad school, who would have thought back then that all of our kids would someday be playing together – while the littlest one gnawed on the coffee table?

Exhausted, we decided not to go out for dinner as planned, but to bring in some local pizza at the hotel and chill.

Best idea ever.

It wasn’t part of the plan, but I was learning fast that this traveling well with multiple kids thing required throwing out the schedule and winging it. It’s all about feeling out who needs what when.

This was probably the most important thing I learned on this trip.

Our last day came way too fast. We enjoyed breakfast in the room as Frances slept cozily in the closet – the image of her cherubic little body, all rosy and snug – I’m kicking myself for not taking a picture.

Panic from inside the room. Shh. Baby's sleeping! But it didn't matter. Henry had lost one of his Ninjago snake Legos - the green one - and was totally despondent. We tore the hotel room apart, top to bottom, but never found it. Henry is still convinced Kate Morgan was behind its mysterious disappearance.

After we checked out, at Henry’s bidding, we went on the hunt for poor Kate Morgan’s ghost. As we morbidly traipsed the hallways and stairwells, retracing her fatal steps, trying to feel any sense of her vibration, I soaked in the moment. Our little family was on a ghost hunt that soon would become a memory.

I felt a twinge of nostalgia. I hate when people tell you childhood goes by too fast. The minute your kid is born well-meaning people are always right there to tell you - Take it in. Savor every moment. It've over before you know it.


I know


We all know. 

Our ghost hunt morphed into a wandering, meandering tour of the hotel. We happened upon the hotel’s museum - an area off the lobby with a few glass cases filled with historical artifacts - where we learned more about the hotel’s prestigious past. Henry was particularly excited by the presidential memorabilia. God, do I love how much my kid loves history. We explored a few more shops and peeked inside The Sheerwater restaurant, the one we never made it to. What a shame. It had the most spectacular ocean view and the food looked/smelled wonderful.

We then made a pit stop to the hotel's charming candy shop, looked in on the ice cream parlor, and then walked out to the beach for our last photo ops.


Bad call (bad mommy) trying to get the kids to pose for pictures. By that time they had both had enough and proceeded to melt down.

But that wasn't the last glitch of the trip.

No. The very last glitch happened a few blocks from the hotel. We were finally on our way back home when Frances started fussing. 


Uh-oh. 


Her fussing turned into crying. Soon it would be all out monster time.

What on earth, we thought?

Then we smelled it.

Poop.

It’s always poop.

Mostly always anyways.

A heated debate ensued, whether to stop at the public library to change her, or head back to The Del, where we knew they were equipped to deal with such emergencies. And we were so close, why risk an unknown bathroom?


Back to The Del it was.

I grabbed a diaper, some wipes, yanked her out of her car seat and snaked my way through the quickly growing lunch crowd towards the ladies room.

Changing her, she peed Lake Eerie. Now it was poor Mommy hell. I was screwed. I hadn’t brought enough wipes, nor a change of clothes. But thankfully, I did bring a blanket.

Solution? Always bring the diaper bag when changing the baby. No matter where you are. Bring it. That’s a mistake I won’t make again.

The drive home was pretty much the same as the drive there.

Pulling into the driveway, Frances asleep, Henry nose in the iPad, it was hard to believe we’d only been away for two days. It felt like we’d been gone for weeks and who knows? After the success of this mini vacation, maybe next time we will.

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