Beautiful Day

I took Max to the Huntington yesterday, where I had not been in years and he has never been. It was so beautiful and peaceful. I want to go back again soon.

They have a new children's garden that I had never seen. There were so many "hands on" things for Max to explore. There were fountains of all shapes and sizes and the kids were allowed to stick their hands in and touch them. There was a misting area and another area where there was fog. There was a kind of musical instrument where you pick up a handful of rocks and drop them through it and it made the most beautiful sound...like musical rain.

There was a rainbow tunnel that showed rainbows inside of it by breaking up sunlight with prisms. There were mounds to climb and paths to follow and a very cute little tea room, all covered in vines. It was a very nice addition.

We also went into the tropical rainforest exhibit and Max kept saying "animal jungle," which is what he calls the Rainforest Cafe...his favorite restaurant.

Then we had some lunch while Max chased "yucky bees" (which is worthy of a separate blog entry). Afterwards, we went for a walk to look at the Japanese Garden. It was gorgeous. This photo is standing at the top of the stairway that leads down into the garden.After that, and a poopie diaper, we strolled over to a lovely shaded area, under a giant weeping tree, where I laid out a blanket. Max collected sticks and I laid on my back looking up through the tree. I could have fallen asleep. After trying to entice me to, yet another sword fight, we played catch with a ball I brought and then ran through some sprinklers. When that got old, as things quickly do when you are only 3, we played with some small animal figurines.

Our day was so relaxing and full of beauty, that I didn't even mind the two hour drive, sitting in traffic, to get back home.

Cowboy Max

This is the second time that Max ever rode a horse. The first time happened while Scott and I had been sleeping off a 13 hour drive to New Mexico. We were told that he went from being completely afraid of that horse to being very upset at having to get off of the horse, all within about 10 or 15 minutes.

This time, as Max got on the horse, there wasn't a moment of hesitation. He loved every second of it. He had his own little hand motion to say "keep going, go faster." You can see him use it in this clip. Nicole, the girl in the photo, is a cousin. She put Max up on a horse with her and rode around for quite awhile. Max giggled when she would guide the horse to make abrupt turns.

Once again, there were tears when it was time to dismount. I think I may look into horseback riding lessons for him near our house in a year or two.

The other little boy in the video is Max's cousin Joey. Max called him "cowboy" before coining the name "Captain Cowboy" for him.

No Way Man!

I wish I could remember what these poncho'ish pullovers were called. Remember these from the 70's? They had a hood and in the front, a pocket that went from one side to the other? They were really popular with surfers where I grew up, in Santa Monica. Max's grandmother "Nana" got this one for him. It's Old Navy. I love it so much. I just wish I could get my hands on one for myself.

I suppose with his pullover and his puka shells and that long scraggly hair, he does look like a little kid from the 70's.

Not only that, but several weeks ago, out of the blue, Max said "cool!" I stopped in my tracks, wondering where he had heard that from. Max's dad finally claimed it. This morning, I asked Max to get out of the pool and he said, "no way man!"...hmmm...where did THAT one come from? Me? Then, later today, I was talking to him and I said "dude!!" and he looked at me and he said "dude!!" Busted!!! Too weird.

Bubba Lips

This is Max sleeping. These are his bubba lips. That's what we call them when he falls asleep. His whole face relaxes and his lips get really pouty.

Mommy, Daddy, Pig

A couple of days ago, Max and I had caught the ending of The Wizard of Oz on television. The characters caught his eye and so we started to watch the rest of the movie, one that had been a much anticipated part of my own childhood. Following that, another movie called Spirited Away came on. It was touted as having a similar plot, whereas the main character finds herself in another world with magical beings. They also said it was the first anime movie to ever win an Academy Award. So we started to watch it.

Then the phone rang.

Blabbing away, I quit paying attention to what was on the television. Bad mistake. Suddenly, Max runs over to me in tears, wimpering, 'speaking in tongues' and the only words I can pick out are "mommy," "daddy" and "scared." I had no idea what had scared him. By that time, the main character was sitting waterside and not much was going on. I picked him up and tried to comfort him with some milk and a snuggle in bed. For the rest of the evening he was clearly bothered.

After he fell asleep, I went back and rewound the cartoon (gotta love tivo) to just before the scene where he became noticabley upset. Well, it was awful. The mommy and daddy had been turned into hideous looking pigs, stuffing their faces at a resaraunt where they were being whipped by some black ghostlike beings. The little girl who had returned to where she left her mommy and daddy, screamed when they turned around and she saw what they had been turned into. Then those black, ghostly figures started chasing her.

Poor, poor Max. I felt awful. In such a short time I had failed to protect him from some really scary stuff. The kind of stuff that nightmares are made of. What struck me most was the look of fear on his face. I had never seen this look on him before.

The next day he seemed fine. It never came up. Then, this morning, upon waking, Max says, "mommy, daddy, pig." He was whining a bit. Did he have a nightmare? Was it simply on his mind again? Is he going to be scarred now? Ugh!!!! I told him that mommy's and daddy's NEVER turn into pigs and it was all just pretend. I don't know if he understood any of that, but it's all I can do for damage control. That, and make sure I don't let him watch anything I'm not giving my full attention to.

Ortega Highway

Ortega highway is a 40-something mile winding road that goes through the Cleveland National Forest. It separates the Inland Empire from Orange County. "Over the river and through the woods, to grandmother's house we go..." and so it is that we travel this road, as a direct route from our house to my mother's house.

If I am not the person in the drivers seat, I will get carsick; sometimes mildly and other times much worse. Either way, it's inevitable. Our family dog, who does not have the option of driving, also gets sick from this ride. So, when she needs veterinary attention, as my dad is her veterinarian, I must take a longer, alternative route. Or she throws up along the way.

I have also known, for quite some time, that Max also gets carsick on this route. One time he threw up right after we exited the highway, well before we made it home. Another time he made it all the way to our driveway before tossing his cookies all over himself and the car. And yet another time he simply gurgled his baby belly contents up and out while we were stuck in construction traffic on that darned road, with just a few miles to go. There was also a time when I realized he was not going to konk-out, so I actually pulled off at "Hell's Kitchen," which is a biker bar and restaurant. Max and I sat by ourselves on the back porch having a soda. It was just what he needed, I guess, because he didn't throw up that time.

Fortunately, he normally sleeps during this drive. It's long and boring for him and the powerful hum of the truck is the equivalent of 'slipping him a mickey.' Unfortunately, there are those few times when he does not fall asleep. Tonight was one of those nights. I was actually feeling hopeful that he might be outgrowing the carsickness. We made it home and I got him out of the truck and put him in bed. He was awake, but seemed sleepy. Just as I set him down on the bed, the one with the freshly laundered sheets and comforter...well, you get the picture. As I write this I am listening to the second wash cycle for the comforter.

My husband says the worst part about washing something that's been thrown up on, is that all the chunks, even though they come out clean, are still present. I actually plucked all the chunks off of the comforter before throwing it in the washing machine. Poor Max, he had steak for dinner and lots of it, not to mention the macaroni & cheese, sauteed mushrooms and some salad...blech!!!

So the bedding went into the washing machine and Max went into the tub. Both are going to be cleaned and put right back onto the bed. Maybe next time I'll bring a little Benadryl for the ride over.