Creature Bug

Having a Good Time

As far as I know, we're all having a good time this lovely Friday morning: Jules with her grandparents, Sydney with her cousin Clover, and me, soaking up the sun in Pasadena. Jason--still working for a few more hours--will be having a good time right about 3:30 pm. When his weekend with Sydney begins.

My flight had its ups and downs. It wasn't the 2-hour delay just to get out of Portland, it wasn't the missed connection in Oakland, it wasn't even the middle seats on both flights. No, it was that I arrived in Ontario without my luggage. Boo. Southwest hasn't yet called to tell me when I should be expecting my luggage ("we'll call you, and then deliver it in a 2-4 hour window"...whatever that means); fortunately, my sister has hooked me up with all the necessary items, so I'm not hurting too much.

Maybe the silver lining on lost luggage is that it gives me a reason to go to Patagonia to get a new shirt. And some flip-flops.

We're off now to explore Old Town. Let the good times roll.

Luggage Update (10:54 am): Southwest called to say they are delivering my bag between 1-3 pm. *fingers crossed*

Luggage Update (5:35 pm): The luggage guy called my cell phone whilst we were wandering around Old Pasadena to tell me he had my bag. He thoughtfully waited for us to drive back to my sis's apartment, and I was joyfully, though not tearfully, reunited with my bag. All items accounted for, including the six volumes of Harry Potter audiobooks I was returning to Andrea. Hip hip hooray!

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

Destination: Pasadena

I should be packing tonight, but it'll have to wait until tomorrow morning. Hopefully I'll have enough time to get myself and the girls all packed and out the door by noon. Yes, I'm thinking I'll have to wake up early. Rats. I also had good intentions to lose five pounds and get into running-shape for this trip (my sister runs, and I thought it would be cool if I went running with her), but that also didn't happen. At least I did have my eyebrows done today. Because, really, I'm not totally unprepared.

In anticipation of leaving, the house is clean, the girls' summer clothes have been brought down from the attic, the bills have been paid, and the mail has been sent. I even have a blog post ready to show up while I'm gone (except the review I have to write for Monday...I forgot to do that ahead of time and so have to do that while on vacation...bleh). The only thing I didn't work out was rainy weather while I'm gone. Isn't it supposed to be that when you go on vacation to a nicer climate that you leave a less desirable one? I can't believe I'm going to miss the 95-degree weather around here this weekend, but evidently it's supposed to be even hotter than that in Pasadena. Good times.

I'll check in again from Pasadena, hopefully already relaxed and tanned.

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

Buying My Own Mother's Day Present

About Mother's Day...

Here's my confession: I bought my own present. And while it was more than what Jason would have spent on me, and I perhaps didn't consult him about it as much as I should have, I'm feeling pretty good about it.

And if you hand me the microphone on Mother's Day and ask me, "What are you going to do now that you're a mom?!"

I'd raise my fist into the air and yell victoriously, "I'm going to Disneyland!"

Okay, maybe I won't actually be going to Disneyland. But I could. Because I'm going to Pasadena, California, to visit my sister and Disneyland is practically right there. I might see if I can't sneak in a short trip just to go on a roller coaster or two. I do love roller coasters.

Technically, I'll be home on Mother's Day because I planned it that way. I do actually want to be around my children on Mother's Day to enjoy the whole Hallmark moment of becoming a mom and having my heart and my life and my hips forever and irrevocably altered. The card, the hugs, the breakfast in bed...yes, please. I want all that. Next Thursday, however, I'll be jumping on a plane and flying south for four days.

Four whole days. Four whole nights. Me and my sister. Hanging out. Having fun.

The last time my sister and I hung out--just the two of us--I was seven months pregnant with Sydney. I flew down to North Ft. Myers, Florida, for a week and it was quite fun and adventurous. Just now, I chuckled to myself when I read my blog excerpt from March 29, 2004:

"Oh little fireant, why did you have to bite my "piggy had none" toe? I realize that perhaps I smashed hundreds of your friends as I trod on your little ant hill, yet there was no reason for you to smite me so harshly. Maybe you felt that my feet had had too much fun in the sand of the beautiful beaches and swimming in the Gulf of Mexico. And true, my feet had quite the time strolling down the fantastic 5th Avenue in Naples. But you may have had some pity for them since they did get a little bit sunburned, and my ankles are swollen too from all the walking. It's bad form to bite the feet of a pregnant lady."

But there are certain limitations to having fun at seven-months-pregnant in Florida. First of all, I went to bed around 9 pm every night. Secondly, my ankles acted like two giant sponges and soaked up all the moisture in the air. Just put me in a room, and I could dehumidify it in two minutes flat. And, of course, the fireants didn't do me any favors either.

This time our visit together will be different. No pregnancy, so I can stay up late, go on roller coasters, and drink a beer if I want. No kids, who I would have to constantly remind my sister to stop harassing ("gentle" is not part of her vocabulary). No fireants, hopefully. Just a whole lot of hanging out, eating food, and having fun doing whatever we'll be doing. What larks, Pip! What larks! (...points to you if you know what book this line is from...)

So, my gift to myself for Mother's Day is a weekend where Jules gets to stay with Jason's parents, and Sydney gets to have her own weekend with her daddy, and I get to hang out with my sister. Sounds like the perfect gift...for the whole family.

Which, as it turns out, sounds very much like the kind of gift a mother would give.

Speaking of gifts...this post was inspired by Johnson and Johnson and their new charitable giving site Johnson's Baby Cause. Thanks to Parent Bloggers Network for hosting the blog event.

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

A Love Project

Leslie got it right in her last comment: I am still on a vacation high. Even through a stuffed up nose, through Jules working on a molar and feeling rather needy since my return, through cold and rainy weather--I am still feeling the love from our weekend back east. At any rate, it's far more interesting to write about that than what I did today, which was watch Sound of Music with Syd and then sing that Cuckoo song for the rest of the day. Don't get me wrong; there's a certain charm to Sound of Music. I'm a big Julie Andrews fan, but I don't know if I could write very much about her. Maybe I could.

Rather than find out, I have one more batch of photos to show you from Camden.

 

If you go to Camden you really ought to stay in a Bed & Breakfast. Sure, there are hotels around (even nice charming ones right in the center of the village), but Camden is full of wonderful B&Bs that treat you to delicious breakfasts, fabulous conversations, and romantic quarters. Both times we've visited Camden, we've stayed at the Windward House, and I know when we go back we'll stay there again.

It's quite a story how we ended up at the Windward House the first time around. I had originally made reservations at the Blue Harbor House, who I found through a Maine Visitor's Guide. The week before our wedding, I called the innkeepers to confirm our reservations. Not sure why I felt compelled to confirm, it just seemed like the thing to do. Probably had it on my Wedding To Do checklist.

Imagine my complete shock when the innkeeper told me, "We have you staying here this weekend."

"This weekend?" My heart sank. "But I don't get married until next weekend."

"So you wouldn't be able to move up your stay?" Not likely.

They were full the weekend of the wedding, and since it was high travel season in Maine, chances were good that every place would be full. I started sobbing on the phone, and the poor lady felt awfully terrible about it all. I couldn't even continue the conversation, so I just hung up and sobbed out the whole story to my mom. It was a week before my wedding, and the honeymoon that I had been planning for months had suddenly fallen apart. If you've ever been around a bride-to-be, you know that this was quite the hysterical moment in our house.

Fortunately, my mom kept her cool and called the Blue Harbor House back. Could they see if any place had any openings? Well, by golly, they had called around, and the Windward House had just had a cancellation in their nicest room and would love to have us. The Windward House innkeeper (at the time) called me personally to assure me that everything would be taken care of. I could have married him right then. Except, you know, not really.

 

So the Windward House saved the day back in 1997, and it saved the day again in 2007 when we were searching for a place to vacation. The innkeepers have changed, but we are just totally smitten with the new owners. Jesse and Kristi are the nicest folks, and have young children themselves so we totally connected with them about eating out, visiting the library, and vacationing. Plus, they were fabulous conversationalists about all sorts of other things too. We hope they stay there for several more years, so we can visit them again.

Loved loved loved the room we stayed in: the Windrose Suite.

Jason had ordered the chocolate covered strawberries (*swoon*), but the chocolate truffles and champagne were an anniversary gift from Jesse and Kristi. I had consumed half the strawberries before euphorically wandering out of the sitting room into the bedroom.

The most comfortable bed I have slept on in my entire life. Worth flying to Maine just to sleep in this bed. Trust me.

No vacation is complete without a soaking tub, which I have promised myself to own one day in our new house. We stayed two nights at the Windward House. I took three baths. And finished two books. And slept in until 9 am. And sat by the fireplace. And ate chocolate. And homemade cookies. And then sat by the fire some more.

 

And when we weren't doing any of those things, we walked down the street to the village where we shopped, and ate seafood, and browsed the stores, and watched the water, and visited the library where I sat in a big beanbag chair in the children's section and read Parenting magazine.

As if that wasn't enough--and it was--we woke up the day we were driving back to Boston for our afternoon flight out to seven inches of new snow. It was everything a dream vacation should be. (Of course, we had a moment of worry about the snow until we saw all the snowplows out clearing the roads. Fabulous New Englanders and their snow preparedness.)

The one final twist to our vacation that was an extra bit of fun was getting to participate in A Love Project. A young couple created this project, traveling all over the country leaving boxes in certain rooms at B&Bs (you should check out their story...quite interesting). The only instructions are to leave a love note in the box, which will be collected at the end of this year and then the love notes are going to be published in a book. Funny thing is, Jason had planned to reserve the same room we had stayed in for our honeymoon, and when he told me about the trip it was available. Then when he went to make reservations, it was booked, so we got a different room--the room participating in the Love Project. Perfect.

We're already talking about going back next December. I suppose there's a good argument for trying out a new destination, but there's just something about Camden that brings out the best in us. It's a special place, and even though there are a dozen B&Bs in Camden, we'll go back to the Windward House. For Jesse and Kristi. For the homemade cookies. For the bathtub and fireplace. For the place that saved the day.

 

Pictures from Camden

One thing I was determined to do when we visited Camden this time: take pictures. Even though I did take pictures when we honeymooned there, it's quite the sad story about that. While I wasn't a fabulous photographer, I could still manage to capture the shots I wanted. There was the picture of the sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean. The picture of the skunk that wandered in front of us while we sat by the bay. Pictures of the room we honeymooned in. Nothing amazing, but still. They were pictures of The Honeymoon.

Of course, back then there were no digital cameras, so I trusted on my 35mm camera to pull through. The camera pulled through. That first roll of film, however, did not. When I got the film back from the developers--film that was given to us by family in an effort to save us the trouble of having to go buy it--I learned that it had been exposed not once, but twice before. We did have pictures from the second half of the trip, but not of our first few days in Camden.

Being newlywed, twenty-one, and still recovering from the shock of realizing I'd have to do my own laundry for the rest of my life, my first recourse was to cry my little eyes out. Eventually, I recovered, and it became a story I got a kick out of telling melodramatically. Everyone loves a good "I lost my honeymoon photos" story.

Fast forward ten years, and my trusty digital camera made sure that this time I wouldn't be leaving Camden without pictures. Sure, when I was there before, it was July and so the scenery was a little different. But lucky me, Camden is highly picturesque in the winter.

I just love that little village.

Postcard from Camden, Maine

Postcard from Rhode Island

Before heading up to Camden tomorrow, we had the wonderful pleasure of spending a day in Rhode Island with Jason's brother and his wife. I haven't seen Nathan and Carolyn in over a year, so what a lovely reunion it was to hang out with them, eat dinner, and watch YouTube videos of Flight of the Conchords. Yes, the simple things make vacations the best.

Thanks N & C for letting us hang out with you for the day. We love you.

(Julianne update: she is handling our absence with great determination and courage, though feeling a bit needy. Of course, we did make three phone calls to Jason's mom, so I suppose we're feeling rather needy too. Fortunately, she does get to sleep in her own crib since the grandparents are staying at our house to make things easier. Not that I worry, except maybe a little. You know, for good measure.)

Tomorrow...Maine.

Early Christmas Present

Jason surprised me with an early Christmas present. Boy oh boy, did he surprise me. I gasped. I cried. I even felt a bit anxious for Julianne, but let's not tell her just yet that her mamma is leaving her for four days.

Next weekend, I'm going to be here. !!!!!

Extra presents in your Christmas stockings if you can guess why this location makes Jason the most romantic husband in the world.

Week 178: Home again, home again

Did I fly back Tuesday night? Really? And it's Thursday night? Oh my.

Well, let's ignore those unpacked suitcases and pretend I just got back, say, 15 minutes ago. In fact, it sort of feels like that anyway. Except that I came back to a clean house, and in my "15 minutes" I have managed to make it quite messy. That's my not-so-hidden talent: taking a perfectly orderly house and turning it into a state of mini-chaos, like a reverse "Before" and "After."

We had a good trip, though. Hard to beat Pennsylvania in the fall, especially with 80 degree weather. Beautiful. I didn't take my camera (because my dad was along and no sense competing with the Papa-razzi) and so don't have any leafy pictures, but trust me. It was poetry inspiring. The Grand Opening Party for my cousin's business--which was the reason why we went back there in the first place--was fabulous. My cousin's daughter has opened up a restaurant/catering business called Capers, and they have such good food. I could have eaten the baked brie with walnuts and brown sugar all. night. long. Sure there was an open bar, but what the heck did I care about that? As long as I had my little brie treats, I was happy. We even went back to Capers for lunch on Monday, and I asked if they had any leftovers of the baked brie. They did. I might have to fly back to Erie on a regular basis just so I can indulge in this fabulous yumminess.

And if was possible to be more wonderful than baked brie, there was getting to see my uncle and his family. They are just so nice and friendly and fun to be around. I really wish I could see them more often. It was so nice that the house is set up for grandkids and babies and so Jules got to sleep in a crib, and eat in a highchair, and be wheeled around the farm in a stroller. I *heart* baby gear on vacation.

For all my fretting about how Jules would be (memories of a particular awful flight back from Kauai still makes me break out in a sweat) Jules was a great little traveler, finding everything to be quite fascinating and humorous. Looking out the window at clouds? Giggles. The emergency exit cards in the back of the seat pocket in front of us? Better than a bag of toys. AND she slept in my arms for a couple hours. Such a good baby.

Of course, there were a couple of traveling snafus. Like leaving 90 minutes late out of Portland because of some generator problem. This meant we got into Detroit late, so that by the time we got to our connecting flight at a gate a mile away they were closing the door. As my mom was running to the gate she saw them about to close the door, and yelled that we were coming, but trying to stop airport personnel from closing the gate is like trying to stop a toddler from having a meltdown after a birthday party. Practically impossible.

The gate closed. Next flight to Erie was four hours later.

If you ever want to know what it might feel like to get locked out of heaven, just get to an airline gate a second too late and hear the sound of the door closing echoing through the corridor.

"I'm sorry," they say. "You're too late. There's nothing we can do."

You can beg; you can plead; you can tell them that you lived a good and virtuous life. They will not open the door.

Unless an angel in disguise walks up behind you and says, "You are not allowed to close the door more than 15 minutes before the flight leaves. It's the rules."

For all the millions of rules that fly through airports--like the one that allowed them to frisk me because I was holding Jules too close to my stomach so that it appeared that I was hiding an explosives belt, or the one that forced my 93-year-old grandma to get out of her wheelchair and walk through the security gate--it's so sweet when one of the rules actually works in your favor. (I know all the rules are intended to work in our favor, namely not getting blown up on an airplane, but still...some of the rules are irritating.) The Gate Guy called the pilot, and voila! The gate was opened and we made the flight.

Naturally, it would have been too simple if it all worked out perfectly. My dad, having lost his cool at the Gate Guy (all my siblings together now: "Doggone It You Guys!") ended up leaving behind his responsibility at the gate: my carry-on luggage and the car seat. Fortunately, the kind folks at the Erie airport loaned us a carseat until my stuff could make it out on the next flight from Detroit a mere four hours later. I forgave my dad, but made sure that I handled all my belongings on the way home. Baby included.

So, I'm home.
Home to a pile of new magazines.
Home to Sydney's smiling jack-o-lantern.
Home to too many emails to read, too many blog posts to comment on, too many newspapers to browse. Home to a finished backyard fence.
Home to a little doggie who got a new haircut, prompting Sydney to say, "She looks like a different dog! She's so pretty."
Home to the sounds of two little sisters playing together, who squeal with joy when they see their daddy after days away, who want to stay up late just so they can be with us.
Home to a husband who built us a fire last night, who bought me a carton of the season's first eggnog, who is has the day off tomorrow to spend with all of us.

Good to be home.

I'm Leaving on Jet Plane

I think somehow in the midst of my mounds of laundry, autumn photos, and cricking neck I forgot to mention my trip to Pennsylvania. So, um, yeah. I'm flying to Pennsylvania tomorrow.

Jules and I, along with my parents and my grandma, are flying out to Erie and we'll be back on Tuesday. My cousin's daughter opened up a new restaurant and the grand opening shindig is on Saturday. It's been many years since I've visited my uncle's family back east, so I'm really looking forward to the trip.

What may or may not be quite as much fun is having Miss Squirmypants on the plane. But I have A Plan. My Plan involves bringing lots of Cheerios and baby food and assorted other distracting toys to keep her happy, as well as entertaining her by passing her back and forth between family members. We'll see if this works.

I haven't actually checked to see if bringing baby food is allowed through airport security, but I can't imagine it not being allowed. Does anybody know?

So, have a great weekend, and I'll be back here next Wednesday.

A Hawaiian Friday*

We were hanging out at the pool this afternoon when I spied a gentlemen next to me reading Book Six (aka Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince).

"Harry Potter fan?" I ask.
"Absolutely," he said.

And just like that, we were best friends.

Jason and I had a nice chat with him about HP theories, which led to us talking about traveling, teaching, and parenting. He and his wife are in Kauai for their 25th wedding annivesary. They're from Bangor, Maine, which led us to talk about our honeymoon in Camden, Maine. Even though I'm not always emboldened to talk to strangers in regular life, somehow vacations bring it out in me. There's always something to talk about.

The weather has been beautiful--not too hot, a nice breeze blowing in from the ocean. We hung around the resort for most of the day except for a drive out to Princeville and Hanalei, where we had to stop for a little pre-dinner dessert. I finished off Austenland, which Inkling loaned me just in time for me to bring it along. It's a charming and funny tale of a woman, Jane Hayes, trying to break her literary crush on Mr. Darcy. Inkling warned me that the writing wasn't fabulous, so I didn't mind that this was, in some cases, true. It was entertaining though with laugh-out-loud moments, perfect for a vacation read.

Speaking of tomorrow...facial and massages for Grandma and me. Woo hoo. Jason is snorkeling at Tunnels in the morning, and then will watch Jules while we ladies are off being pampered. Such bliss. It all would be perfectly relaxing except that Jules has turned out to be a very uncooperative travel buddy. She's a dear, of course, except for all the squirming when we're trying to eat, or screaming when we're driving the car, or waking when we're trying to sleep. Other than that, she's perfect. The upside is that she has convinced me, utterly convinced me, that after Jules turns one in December, Jason and I are going to belatedly celebrate our 10-year anniversary with a vacation without kids.

But enough of the small complaining. I'm in Hawaii. It's good.

This one is for you, Karen.

**I know it's Saturday, but I typed this on Friday and had trouble posting it.

Aloha!

The air is full of the scent of plumaria, the sounds of birds chirping, Hawaiian music playing, and the rush of the ocean.

Today we are going to Poipu and Spouting Horn. We'll also search the island for a portable swing in an attempt to get Jules to take a nap. You'd think she'd get tired every once in awhile. For good measure, my grandma and I are going to get a massage, so that even if Jules doesn't sleep at least I'll have a few more days before my shoulders ache from holding her.

Kisses from Kauai.

xx

Week 148: Family Vacation

Well, here I am, sipping my Sleeping Time tea, trying to channel lovely non-stressful thoughts as I realize that spring break is over. There was much celebrating as I got to appreciate Jason being home, and also was able to sleep in a few days. And this morning when I didn't get to sleep in, well, the celebration came to an end. Back to regular life.

However, we get to go into regular life a little bit changed having just experienced our first overnight family vacation with the four of us. Certainly we've had plenty of overnight vacations with Syd, but this was Jules' first vacation. And even though the Oregon coast isn't exactly the dream spot that some vacationers might envision, we were quite happy with it.

Really, the whole thing was a bit last minute, but our friends weren't going to be able to use up all their time at their vacation spot, and would we do them a favor and like to stay there for them? For free? We remembered our manners and said thank you very much, we'd love to.

I don't know if two nights away really qualifies as an actual vacation, but any place where I don't have to worry about household chores is a veritable paradise for me. Plus, we used suitcases. Isn't that really one of the major qualifiers for a vacation? I think so.

What did I learn from our family adventure? First of all, it takes a long time to pack. Maybe as long as you are going on vacation. We were only gone for two days and two nights, but we had to pack half a dozen outfits for each of the girls since Jules insists on pooping through most of her clothes and Sydney can't bear to wear something if it gets spilled on--or even almost gets spilled on. Throw in a case of diapers, books, beach toys, blankets, DVDs, and two coolers and the car was loaded.

Since the hotel room we stayed in had a full kitchen, we planned to make almost all our meals. This probably doesn't sound like that much fun to some people, but it's WAY less stressful for me because Sydney doesn't really eat if we're at a restaurant and then later on she gets frantic and cranky with hunger. So we hauled out the cooler and filled it with milk, apples, applesauce, apple juice, cranberry juice, jelly, butter, peanut butter, eggs, yogurt, and cereal (Syd's special treat: Tiger Cereal, aka Frosted Flakes). Add in another bag full of car snacks (pretzels, yogos, fruit leather, granola) and we were more prepared than a boyscout in the wilderness.

The second thing I learned: it's okay to watch Winnie the Pooh on vacation. I hardly have the capacity to keep going all day long, let alone expect Sydney to. Down time comes in all sorts of forms: reading books and watching tv is okay. We can hone that "let's get moving and make the most of the day" character trait later. Right now? Not so much. That's why going the Oregon coast is a great place to vacation, because you can do very little and not feel like you're missing out.

However, even with some down time, we still packed in plenty of activities. We went to the Tillamook Cheese Factory where Jason kept with tradition and bought himself some squeaky cheese (or cheese curd, is it is properly known -- not my favorite). I was a genius mom and packed pretzels and a sandwich for Sydney, allowing Jason and I to enjoy our cheeseburgers without hearing "I don't like hamburgers!" Some nice guy at the table next to us gave us his fries, and while I don't usually eat food from strangers, I was on vacation and willing to go along for the adventure. I kept telling Jules how exciting it all was, but she slept through the whole thing.

Then on Wednesday we hit all the highlights of Seaside that would fill any little kid with joy. My parents drove over from Washington, bringing Clover along with them, so it was quite the family affair. Oh boy, oh boy. Down to the beach where the weather was gorgeous, plastic shovels and rakes, and sandcastles and the ocean and oh my goodness was it all just too exciting? Then off to the carousel for rides, then to the aquarium to see the seals ("and they barked! and they splashed Clover! and they ate fish!" Sydney tells me every time she remembers it), and then out to eat to Norma's where we filled our tummies with crab cakes/fries/chowder/cobbler/ice cream, and finally back to the hotel for some swimming.

Whew.

My parents headed home; we packed up, did a quick stop at Starbucks on our way out of town (since all the other local coffee shops had closed by then), and spoiled ourselves with wonderful uninterrupted conversation as we made the two-hour trek back home along the dark windy roads.

As we were driving back, it dawned on me that our vacations from here on out will probably look a little different than the ones we've had in the past. This vacation we didn't do any shopping, didn't look in any book stores, didn't eat by candlelight, didn't watch any romantic movies or stroll along the beach when the sun set. And yet, that was okay. We've done that before, and someday we'll do it again.

But for now I suspect our future family vacations will make us experts at finding the nearest carousel, the nearest children's museum, the nearest ice cream shop, and the nearest family friendly restaurants. Our vacations will be a little louder and a little crazier.

And you know what? It's going to be so much fun.

The Photo Pop-In

Shhh...I'm still on my blogging vacation, but thought I'd quietly sneak in here and post a few pictures from our little vacation in the lovely northern Oregon coastal town of Seaside (we stayed here, thanks to our friends who had the whole week reserved but could only stay on weekends). My parents and Clover drove out and spent the day with us there yesterday, which is when my dad took these pictures. I'll be back with stories next week.

 

Okay, I'm out.

A day at the beach

"We all look at Nature too much, and live with her too little." ~Oscar Wilde

Yesterday's trip to Newport and Lincoln City was a lovely one. We visited the Oregon Coast Aquarium first, which Sydney loves. Even though Nemo wasn't there (it's an aquarium of the Oregon coast, so no tropical fish), it still provided plenty of excitement.

Among the highlights: the white starfish, the yellow starfish, the orange starfish. The walk through the Passages of the Deep tunnel with the sharks swimming over and beneath us. The feeding of the seals. The sea lions torpedo-ing through the water. And, Sydney's personal favorite, the fabulous shuffling through the pea gravel as we walked along outside. Puffins? Octopus? Turtles? Who cares! "There's rocks! Under my feet! Look at me!"

And, of course, there was chowder. Even though Sydney talked about eating chowder all day long, when we actually ordered it for her she would have nothing to do with it.

S: No, chowder with potatoes.
Me: There are potatoes. Right here. See?
S: No, potatoes.
Me: Yes I know. This chowder has potatoes.
S: No, you eat it. I'll eat chowder at home.

Of course, I did eat it. And she drank her milk and ate her crackers instead. Whatever. (In her defense, she has a terrible cold, and had very little appetite yesterday anyway.)

Since it wasn't raining, and since it was a respectable temperature of 50 degrees, then Jason took Sydney down to a little beach where she shoveled sand into a stream that fed into the ocean. "There's sand! On my shovel! Look at me!" I watched from a bench on the boardwalk, cheering Sydney on, making sure that Jules stayed warm, and making sure that the bag of salt water taffy didn't go unnoticed.

When the sun began to melt into the ocean and the air become frosty cold, we shook out our shoes, packed up the shovels, and drove home. After being mostly cooped up in the house this month, it was nice to get out. We filled our ears with the sound of the ocean, our lungs with the smell of salt water, our fingers with the grains of sand. Jason goes back to work tomorrow. But yesterday, we didn't think of that. Yesterday, it was just the four of us, enjoying the starfish, giving Jules her first trip to the beach. You know those moments where you look at your family and you get that clutchy feeling in your chest like your heart is going to explode with love? You think, This is it. This is happiness.

Yeah. That's what yesterday was.