As I write this, Daddy is doing bedtime with the boy.
Boy to Mommy: "I don't want you. I want Daddy."
But that's OK, because I think Daddy wanted the boy to ask him to do bedtime.
To recap, our last day in Portland was a wild day of play at OMSI, the Oregon Museum of Science & Industry.
We spent an incredible 5 hours there, while my boy and his cousin immersed themselves in all the exhibits - the robots, the dinosaurs, the snakes and lizards, the chipmunk hole, the earthquake house, the Gemini capsule replica, cranes, pulleys, and this wild room with blue rubber balls and hoses filled with air.
It's one of those great places where a parent doesn't have to say - Don't touch - but go ahead, touch it, feel it, press the buttons, turn the wheels, splash in the water.
We the adults started to get bored, especially my sister, the only-nonparent of the group, but the boys just had a blast. So it was truly worth the price of admission.
Our travel day home went well, overall. It didn't feel like it lasted an eternity, but we had gotten a good travel routine and I added a new diversion. The Atlanta airport has a light rail that travels between the various terminals. So we rode for about half an hour, transferring from one train to another. A great time killer, and a fun one too.
But it's nice to be home and I know that my son was very excited every moment of the final plane ride, knowing that at the end, he would see Daddy and his familiar surroundings.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Tired
I have a blog entry in mind but it is a few hours before I have to get up again to catch our early morning flight so I'll just tell you all about it later when I get home.
zzzzzzzz
zzzzzzzz
The gravity of the situation
We drove east this time, to the Columbia River Gorge, the scenic stretch of river against mountain that separates Oregon and Washington states. It is a gorgeous landscape of forested hillsides against the wide expanse of the river.
And there are waterfalls, which was our goal of the day. We ended up at Multnomah Falls, the biggest one, a gushing drop of 602 feet.
My son was first captured by the train tracks and the occasional Union Pacific that passed by. Railroad tracks must make this a new cool place. That's what his face seemed to say.
As we approached the waterfall, he quickly became excited by the rushing water. He looked up and saw the pedestrian bridge. "Are we going there?" "Yes, darling."
"THEN LET'S GO!!!"
I pointed to where the trail started and he pulled my hand as hard as he could. His eagerness helped him through some of the first round of zigzags on this mountain trail, but he soon puckered out and I was trudging up the mountain, carrying an extra 30-pound load.
He found joy again at the bridge, where we could feel the waterspray. It made him giggle.
He wanted to continue the climb and so we walked up to the next great vantage point where the waterspray was even stronger.
Then he wanted to go on, wanting to run around the mountain. Then he wanted to walk along the constructed edge, grabbing onto the metal gates. Then he wanted to run again.
I kept imploring him to stop, to slow down, with the narrow path. I kept trying to hold his hand, but he fought that. I kept trying to carry him again, but he fought that too. As he started to walk away from me at one point, I yelled at him, "Come back here. I'm not losing you in this gorge."
The passing crowd of teenagers laughed. I'm sure I ended up on their blog.
My sister tried to quell the daredevil too. I think she was more scared than I was.
I kept trying again to grab him again but my little one was getting defiant. He looked at the edge of the narrow trail (as I kept my arms hovering around his waist and one hand on his pants).
"Don't look down," I said.
"Why?"
"Because you might fall"
"Why"?"
"Because there's this thing called gravity that wants to pull you down."
"Oh"
Thankfully, he got tired again and allowed me to carry him.
Then on the way down, he found his second wind. He was good for a while, holding my hand. Then he tried to make a break for it, laughing his way around the turn. We panicked again and caught up before he got too far.
A little further along, we found a large fallen tree, with a small incline behind it. A little Russian girl was playing there. We sent the boys there, hoping they would get their climbing fix that way.
It was just way too much adventure for one afternoon.
And there are waterfalls, which was our goal of the day. We ended up at Multnomah Falls, the biggest one, a gushing drop of 602 feet.
My son was first captured by the train tracks and the occasional Union Pacific that passed by. Railroad tracks must make this a new cool place. That's what his face seemed to say.
As we approached the waterfall, he quickly became excited by the rushing water. He looked up and saw the pedestrian bridge. "Are we going there?" "Yes, darling."
"THEN LET'S GO!!!"
I pointed to where the trail started and he pulled my hand as hard as he could. His eagerness helped him through some of the first round of zigzags on this mountain trail, but he soon puckered out and I was trudging up the mountain, carrying an extra 30-pound load.
He found joy again at the bridge, where we could feel the waterspray. It made him giggle.
He wanted to continue the climb and so we walked up to the next great vantage point where the waterspray was even stronger.
Then he wanted to go on, wanting to run around the mountain. Then he wanted to walk along the constructed edge, grabbing onto the metal gates. Then he wanted to run again.
I kept imploring him to stop, to slow down, with the narrow path. I kept trying to hold his hand, but he fought that. I kept trying to carry him again, but he fought that too. As he started to walk away from me at one point, I yelled at him, "Come back here. I'm not losing you in this gorge."
The passing crowd of teenagers laughed. I'm sure I ended up on their blog.
My sister tried to quell the daredevil too. I think she was more scared than I was.
I kept trying again to grab him again but my little one was getting defiant. He looked at the edge of the narrow trail (as I kept my arms hovering around his waist and one hand on his pants).
"Don't look down," I said.
"Why?"
"Because you might fall"
"Why"?"
"Because there's this thing called gravity that wants to pull you down."
"Oh"
Thankfully, he got tired again and allowed me to carry him.
Then on the way down, he found his second wind. He was good for a while, holding my hand. Then he tried to make a break for it, laughing his way around the turn. We panicked again and caught up before he got too far.
A little further along, we found a large fallen tree, with a small incline behind it. A little Russian girl was playing there. We sent the boys there, hoping they would get their climbing fix that way.
It was just way too much adventure for one afternoon.
Friday, June 23, 2006
The beach boys
After a long leisurely drive through some densely forested hills and past idyllic farmscapes, with stops at the nation's largest Sitka spruce and at a lookout point (where we tried to diagnose smoke emanating from the hood of our 20-year-old Volvo), we arrived at the day's destination - Cannon Beach.
My son felt right at home and eagerly put on his swim trunks, and we had nearly just about made it to dip our toes in the Pacific, when my son changed his mind and decided he would not be swimming in this ocean. So my Atlantic beach boy only saw the opposite ocean, never touched it.
Instead, he concentrated on collecting sticks and planning his pretend bonfire. His Texas cousin eagerly helped, finding all sorts of random driftwod into the fire. My son directed all the beach traffic according to his design. A budding supervisor, my little boy.
We lounged around on the beach, as the day got progressively warmer, despite the strong seabreeze. We stayed until the fine sand became intolerable and invaded every crevice of our clothes and coated our hair.
We timed our return home pretty well, but the schedule went awry when the only road back to Portland shut down suddenly when an RV caught fire on the shoulder of the two-lane country road. Ironically, my sister and cousin had been discussing wildfire risk when we drive into the traffic backup. The fire had started no more than a few minutes before we got there.
The smoke streamed up in a thick black column and we tried to call 911, just to be sure that someone had done that. We were deep in the heart of the Tillamook State Forest on US 26 and the cell phone signal was weak, but we managed to at least repeat the details of the fire. It was at least another 10-15 minutes before the first major fire truck arrived.
We were parked on the road for about an hour, as the boys intently watched the smoke rise, then started exploring the grassy shoulder, then played with their shadows in the road. Just about everyone had left their cars as the masses dealt with their boredom, starting random conversations with other drivers.
My son felt right at home and eagerly put on his swim trunks, and we had nearly just about made it to dip our toes in the Pacific, when my son changed his mind and decided he would not be swimming in this ocean. So my Atlantic beach boy only saw the opposite ocean, never touched it.
Instead, he concentrated on collecting sticks and planning his pretend bonfire. His Texas cousin eagerly helped, finding all sorts of random driftwod into the fire. My son directed all the beach traffic according to his design. A budding supervisor, my little boy.
We lounged around on the beach, as the day got progressively warmer, despite the strong seabreeze. We stayed until the fine sand became intolerable and invaded every crevice of our clothes and coated our hair.
We timed our return home pretty well, but the schedule went awry when the only road back to Portland shut down suddenly when an RV caught fire on the shoulder of the two-lane country road. Ironically, my sister and cousin had been discussing wildfire risk when we drive into the traffic backup. The fire had started no more than a few minutes before we got there.
The smoke streamed up in a thick black column and we tried to call 911, just to be sure that someone had done that. We were deep in the heart of the Tillamook State Forest on US 26 and the cell phone signal was weak, but we managed to at least repeat the details of the fire. It was at least another 10-15 minutes before the first major fire truck arrived.
We were parked on the road for about an hour, as the boys intently watched the smoke rise, then started exploring the grassy shoulder, then played with their shadows in the road. Just about everyone had left their cars as the masses dealt with their boredom, starting random conversations with other drivers.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
A small fix
I've changed the setting so that non-bloggers can comment. Didn't realize that the default was set to only allow registered bloggers to comment.
It should work now.
It should work now.
City living
The wonderful thing about a 3-year-old is that the littlest things can entertain him.
We spent the afternoon today, enjoying the warm sun as we strolled Portland's downtown.
Along the Willamette River, my son and his 7-year-old "Kuya" (older boy cousin) found fun jumping on the square manholes and reveling in their clanging noise. We walked to the Salmon Street Springs, a large fountain of chlorinated, filtered water where the locals love to splash. What little kid doesn't like playing in water?
Stopping at an intersection, Kuya decided to open a magazine rack with one of those free glossies featuring cars for sale. My son watched and wanted his own magazine too. The boys intently read their magazines at the first available park, studying the pages and pages of car photos. I chuckled: "They are probably not the key demographic."
There are the oddities too. There are a set of sneakers hanging from an electrical line close to my sister's home. We pass by them regularly. My son bursts out laughing at it every time we see them.
"Mommy, there are shoes hanging there." Big laugh
"Yes darling."
"Somebody put them there."
"That's true."
"That's silly." More laughing
"I agree"
We spent the afternoon today, enjoying the warm sun as we strolled Portland's downtown.
Along the Willamette River, my son and his 7-year-old "Kuya" (older boy cousin) found fun jumping on the square manholes and reveling in their clanging noise. We walked to the Salmon Street Springs, a large fountain of chlorinated, filtered water where the locals love to splash. What little kid doesn't like playing in water?
Stopping at an intersection, Kuya decided to open a magazine rack with one of those free glossies featuring cars for sale. My son watched and wanted his own magazine too. The boys intently read their magazines at the first available park, studying the pages and pages of car photos. I chuckled: "They are probably not the key demographic."
There are the oddities too. There are a set of sneakers hanging from an electrical line close to my sister's home. We pass by them regularly. My son bursts out laughing at it every time we see them."Mommy, there are shoes hanging there." Big laugh
"Yes darling."
"Somebody put them there."
"That's true."
"That's silly." More laughing
"I agree"
Overheard at the Oregon Zoo
(A la one of my favorite sites - Overheard in New York)
Two 2-year-old children watched a leopard feed.
2-year-old boy: (Pointing at the leopard) He's my best friend
2-year-old girl: (With a priceless face) WHAT????!!!!
Two 2-year-old children watched a leopard feed.
2-year-old boy: (Pointing at the leopard) He's my best friend
2-year-old girl: (With a priceless face) WHAT????!!!!
Leopards and tigers and bears, oh my!
Jet lag finally set in Wednesday, as the boy alternated between attentionn to sleep zone.
We went to the supermarket and found one of those snazzy racecar-carts that made him feel right at home. After lunch, he seemed poised to conk out so we offered to take him home, but he insisted that he wanted to go to the zoo. Of course he fell asleep on the way.
We arrived at Washington Park, this lovely section of Portland with a large reserve of Douglas firs, with a nice collecton of museums and the Zoo. While the boy napped in the car, the rest of my family walked around the Rose Garden. The boy woke up and said he wanted to go to the zoo. I said we had to wait and he burst into tears.
So then we went. The highlight of the Oregon zoo trip was a train ride, on this narrow track. My son duly noted that it was Diesel pulling our train. We rode through the forest, overlooking the luscious caverns and gorges until we got to the Rose Garden. We strolled through the Gardens and then headed back to the train station, this time being pulled by Spencer the sleek silver locomotive. My son was in heaven.
Then we walked through the zoo itself, visiting the giraffes, zebras, bears, hippos, leopards, and the Filipino resident, the Visayan warty pig.
The day itself warmed slowly, so in the morning, we Floridians felt a little cold, but by mid afternoon the sun was strong.
On the way home, he fell asleep again.
We went to the supermarket and found one of those snazzy racecar-carts that made him feel right at home. After lunch, he seemed poised to conk out so we offered to take him home, but he insisted that he wanted to go to the zoo. Of course he fell asleep on the way.
We arrived at Washington Park, this lovely section of Portland with a large reserve of Douglas firs, with a nice collecton of museums and the Zoo. While the boy napped in the car, the rest of my family walked around the Rose Garden. The boy woke up and said he wanted to go to the zoo. I said we had to wait and he burst into tears.
So then we went. The highlight of the Oregon zoo trip was a train ride, on this narrow track. My son duly noted that it was Diesel pulling our train. We rode through the forest, overlooking the luscious caverns and gorges until we got to the Rose Garden. We strolled through the Gardens and then headed back to the train station, this time being pulled by Spencer the sleek silver locomotive. My son was in heaven.
Then we walked through the zoo itself, visiting the giraffes, zebras, bears, hippos, leopards, and the Filipino resident, the Visayan warty pig.
The day itself warmed slowly, so in the morning, we Floridians felt a little cold, but by mid afternoon the sun was strong.
On the way home, he fell asleep again.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Morning shot
The boy woke up at 7 a.m. Portland time - a brilliant adjustment to the time zone change.
He stepped into the kitchen and found a plastic bottle and asked me to open it. Half awake, I opened it and thought I spied a strange smell. He took a sip and made this terrible face. Then I realized - he picked up a bottle of vinegar. I didn't even know they made plastic bottles for vinegar. It looked exactly like a bottle of water.
He gagged for a moment but was otherwise fine. While I got a glass of water, he walked over to my sister and told her, "You have hot water. Yuck."
He stepped into the kitchen and found a plastic bottle and asked me to open it. Half awake, I opened it and thought I spied a strange smell. He took a sip and made this terrible face. Then I realized - he picked up a bottle of vinegar. I didn't even know they made plastic bottles for vinegar. It looked exactly like a bottle of water.
He gagged for a moment but was otherwise fine. While I got a glass of water, he walked over to my sister and told her, "You have hot water. Yuck."
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Smooth takeoff, little turbulence
The one thing about this trip I dreaded was the journey. A 9-hour day (including a 4-hour layoff) would be challenging for many travelers. I wasn’t sure how my 3-year-old would cope.
I braced myself with patience and planned for ways to keep the boy content. I had even borrowed a mini-DVD like player stocked with Elmo videos.
Our flights were uneventful and ran on schedule. Even the turbulence on the first leg of our itinerary added some excitement, some fun.
He behaved well throughout the day, only approaching a potential meltdown near the end of what probably seemed like an interminable wait at the Atlanta airport. He was so attentive to all the airport operations (we had quite a discussion about the airport tower and radar systems) that he didn’t delve into any mischief. He just intently watched everything, from the work crews loading the baggage to the incessant beeping carts driving through the terminals.
It probably also helped that the Atlanta airport had a little jungle gym that helped to kill a half-hour of time.
So it was a smooth trip thus far and he arrived, excited and surprisingly alert (despite that we were at least two hours beyond his normal bedtime)
He has been trying to absorb all the new sights and sounds and his already enamored of his “Kuya” (my cousin’s 7-year-old son) who is also joining this great adventure out West. Heaven is a playmate who comes equipped with a Gameboy, a race car set, and a portable DVD player (and a personal stash of M&Ms and Pringles)
He’d been so good all day that I tried not to panic and calmly edged my boy away from the chocolate. But then again, eh, we’re on vacation, right? J
I braced myself with patience and planned for ways to keep the boy content. I had even borrowed a mini-DVD like player stocked with Elmo videos.
Our flights were uneventful and ran on schedule. Even the turbulence on the first leg of our itinerary added some excitement, some fun.
He behaved well throughout the day, only approaching a potential meltdown near the end of what probably seemed like an interminable wait at the Atlanta airport. He was so attentive to all the airport operations (we had quite a discussion about the airport tower and radar systems) that he didn’t delve into any mischief. He just intently watched everything, from the work crews loading the baggage to the incessant beeping carts driving through the terminals.
It probably also helped that the Atlanta airport had a little jungle gym that helped to kill a half-hour of time.
So it was a smooth trip thus far and he arrived, excited and surprisingly alert (despite that we were at least two hours beyond his normal bedtime)
He has been trying to absorb all the new sights and sounds and his already enamored of his “Kuya” (my cousin’s 7-year-old son) who is also joining this great adventure out West. Heaven is a playmate who comes equipped with a Gameboy, a race car set, and a portable DVD player (and a personal stash of M&Ms and Pringles)
He’d been so good all day that I tried not to panic and calmly edged my boy away from the chocolate. But then again, eh, we’re on vacation, right? J
Monday, June 19, 2006
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