Photos from our Coyote Hills Wildflower Walk

A few weeks ago we went on a hike in the Coyote Hills. Here are some photos, and if this doesn't convince you to visit us in California, I don't know what will!

At first, Peter wasn't so sure about a long walk on those short little legs...
But daddy helped out.

Until daddy spotted some ROCKS to climb. And I thought Erika was the rock climber in this family!

Peter is a natural.

Mommy was nervous.

But what a gorgeous day...

And those wildflowers!

I think Peter will want to go again. Maybe.

Spring (Sprung)

Spring snuck up on us this year. There was nothing but uncharacteristic rain, rain, and more rain, and then suddenly Erika started noticing blossoms everywhere. Then the sun came out, but it was a sucker sun. One of those suns that looks really warm and strong until you venture out in just a t-shirt and get blasted by an icy wind from the west. So then you put on the fleece, and walk up the hill, and get way too hot. So you take off the fleece, and turn the corner, and the fog envelopes you and chills you to the bone again.

Very confusing weather. Impossible to choose the right outfit. Unless you are me, of course. I tend to stick with the same look, season after season, with an occasional swap of this collar around my neck or a new tag whenever we move and switch phone numbers. Which hasn't happened in quite some time. No news on that front either.

Peter is marching towards two, with a few doozy tantrums, and even fewer new words. "Wheel" is among them. He is also learning the names of his friends ("a-ong" for Paxton, "mus" for Mateus, "da da" for Danya, and "Tai" for Tai). Sometimes he even says "Tai's House" or "Tai's Chair". He is definitely going to be the strong, silent type. Martin helped him climb his first real rock last weekend on a wildflower-viewing hike in the Coyote Hills. The kid is strong. And agile.

Martin is going to slide in under the wire and embark on one last commercial flying adventure before Peter is officially two. You see, once he turns two, commercial airlines require that you purchase a separate seat for the toddler. Until then, a lap is fair game. And when all of your grandparents live in Europe, this is not trivial. So, Peter is going to Prague for the first time, with his daddy, in April. This is cause for much celebration (on both continents). I get a week free of molestation (his little buddy Mateus actually tried to RIDE me like a horse yesterday), and the Kosina and Osbornova grandparents get a week of pure toddler love. Even Erika, who will miss that little guy something *fierce* is pleasantly stymied by the prospect of an entire week without diapers, tantrums, or snotty noses.

Everyone is happy!

Peter

So, some of you have never met Peter. And several of you have asked what he is like, now that he is almost 22 months old and his personality is starting to make itself known. Yes, it is quite obvious at this point that the boy looks not a bit like his mother, and that he continues to go by the moniker of "Mini Martin". But *inside*, you ask. Is he a mini-Martin on the *inside* too?

Well, yes and no.

Peter loves computers. Martin loves computers.
Peter loves to climb as high as he can get whenever he gets the opportunity. Martin enjoys rock climbing, but doesn't make a habit of it.
Peter is obsessed with cars, garbage cans/trucks, big trucks, and airplanes. Martin is just obsessed with airplanes.
Peter loves beer. Martin loves beer.

Oops, please don't tell Child Protective Services that Peter's newest word is "Bee", "Bee" and he doesn't mean the insect when he is pointing at Daddy's Pilsner Urquel.

Here is a typical day for Peter, which should tell you a little bit about his personality:

Peter wakes up around 7:00am and calls for daddy to carry him into the kitchen and pour him juice. "Juice! Juice!" While daddy showers, Peter amuses himself by exploring every nook and cranny of the bathroom that is not protected by a child-proof lock. It is especially entertaining to dump things into the tub and see what happens. Or to adjust the water temperature when daddy is not looking. Afterwards, daddy makes him a special omelette with cheese and greens and who knows what else or sometimes leftover rice and lentil porridge. Yum! When mommy comes stumbling out of the bedroom a bit later, Peter gives her a BIG hug that sometimes lasts several minutes. He is a sweet kid. When daddy hands mommy her tea, Peter knows that it is "HOT" and that he must not touch it. Smart enough to know not to get between mommy and her morning caffeine.

After daddy leaves for work, Peter finishes exploring the house like a heat-seeking missile looking for forbidden things that were inadvertently left out the night before. He loves to explore, especially any drawers (two left in the entire house) that are not child-proofed. By "explore" I mean "empty of all contents".

Most weekday mornings, Peter goes to "class" at one of the local Rec Centers and plays with the toys and the other kids, in that order. His favorite toys are the ones he can get in and drive around. He also enjoys guitars, and anything that can be climbed. Art class has not been a big success so far. He doesn't quite get what you are supposed to do with paint and glue sticks, and is more interested in splashing the water color water out of the cup, or visiting the lizards and frogs that reside at one of the Rec Centers. The kid LOVES animals.

After class he eats a snack (rice cakes are the current favorite, but he is fickle) and then goes home for lunch, books, and nap. Favorite books right now include "Choo Choo" by Petr Horacek (absorbing some of his Czech Heritage!), "Bing - Yuk!", and anything by Sandra Boynton. On good days, Peter naps for 2 or more hours after the books. Most often, Peter naps for one hour and wakes up in a Very Foul Mood (he definitely gets that from his mom). Snacks help, but they have to be the RIGHT snack (varies from day to day). Petting me helps too.

After Peter fully wakes up, he helps mommy with chores (vacuuming is his favorite, next to mopping and sweeping) and sometimes gets together with a friend, which usually consists of taking every single toy out of the basket and then running screaming and laughing from one end of the house to the other. This is usually followed by wrestling on the couch, snacking, pulling each other around in the wagon (sorry, downstairs neighbors) and trading water bottles with each other.

The hour or so before dinner is Peter's favorite time for exploring, or testing mommy's patience. On good days, this is done outside, in a playground. The kid has a LOT of energy and curiosity. A promising but exhausting combination.

Dinner is a time of more experimentation. We never know what is going to be a success. Sometimes he loves Chinese and Thai food, other times he dumps the entire plate on the floor. Broccoli is often popular. Cauliflower is not. He appears to be on a fruit strike lately, rejecting mangoes, blueberries, peaches, apples, raisins, and tangerines this week. By rejecting I mean either chewing up and then spitting out or just flinging to the floor without even tasting. And still, he gains weight. He is up to 29 pounds at last weighing on Monday.

After dinner, daddy comes home and gives Peter a bath. Peter's favorite part of bath time is pouring water from one container into another. He can do this for 20 minutes straight. There is not much of *anything* that he will do for 20 minutes straight. After bath we read a book or two or 12, and then he is down for the night (we hope) in his snuggly fleece sleep sack and special airplane quilt with his trusty lovey by 7:00 or shortly thereafter. He calls a parent in once or twice to have his blankets adjusted, but is usually snoring loudly by 7:30 or 8:00.

His most striking qualities are his VERY HIGH energy level (he rarely walks, preferring instead to run) and his sweet nature. He loves to hug and kiss other kids, his parents, me, and baby dolls. He's got a great laugh too. We're going to keep him.

Guest Post from Erika: Technology-free Day

I noticed it first when I returned from a month in France. Everywhere I looked, walking or driving around San Francisco, people were talking into or looking at their cell phones. It stood out because in France, I saw maybe one or two mobile devices the entire time I was there. Granted I was in a small-ish, rural town, but there were plenty of people of all ages hanging out in the cafes and bars of the town square, sipping “cafe creme” and actually talking to each other. Or reading the paper. Nary a laptop in sight. Unbelievable.

Back in San Francisco, I started to get annoyed with all of these people who were glued to a screen in public places. Especially the ones crossing the street in front of my car without paying any attention to their surroundings or, even worse, driving a car without paying any attention to their surroundings. This is how accidents happen.

I remember being particularly annoyed with my husband after he got his new iPhone. He was glued to it night and day, much to the detriment of our social life. It only lasted a little while (until the screen shattered shortly after he got extremely frustrated with the spotty service or some other technological defect) but it was an extremely uncomfortable time in our relationship. Then, last week, my parents came to visit with their new iPhone. And I saw it again. That strange disease that possesses new iPhone owners and compels them to spend what seems like 90% of their waking hours glued to the screen. The wonders that lie within that little box! But what about the wonders of the actual world in your immediate vicinity, I wanted to scream I mean, ask nicely?

Then I read this article that basically tells us that American children are spending literally every waking minute staring at a screen. Here is a quote that made me sick to my stomach: “Those ages 8 to 18 spend more than seven and a half hours a day with [a smart phone, computer, television or other electronic device] .... And that does not count the hour and a half that youths spend texting, or the half-hour they talk on their cellphones.”

Not that there is anything wrong with cell phones. Or technology. I own a cell phone and use it liberally. My husband has accused me of being “addicted” to email. I just think that too much of a good thing can be harmful, especially in an era when so many of our natural resources are in real danger of disappearing. Reading about El Capitan on the web and looking up at 3,000 feet of granite in Yosemite National Park are two different things. What are those kids NOT doing when they are choosing to stare at a screen instead?

And what about the social ramifications of us communicating primarily via 140-character “tweets” to all of our friends? Texting and social media are still new enough that there aren't any studies that show how this affects our relationships or our happiness, but I am starting to wonder. Again, I'm not saying that Facebook is evil. It is a great way to stay in touch with people who are far away. When my cousin Michael had a very complicated, intense surgery this past fall, his boyfriend posted daily updates about how things were progressing for everyone who wanted to tune in. This was an incredibly efficient use of the technology that actually brought people closer. But when screen time starts to replace actual “face” time with people we care about, I worry about the future of our species.

To this end, I have decided to do something about it, in my own little way. And I'm going to blog about it. Not here, because there are those of you who couldn't care less about my rants, and others of you who probably find it just too ironic that I am sitting on a computer and blathering on about the evils of technology via a web site. I'm starting a new blog called Technology-free Day. And on it, I am going to chronicle my experiences of living, for just a little bit at a time, without technology. Maybe I'll convince one or two of you to give it a try as well.

On New Beginnings (and the perils of hard alcohol)

Oops, guess I jinxed it. Nope, no house. Starting over. Square one. Don't even ask. Drat, I wish I still had access to Erika's pictures on her (dead) Mac hard drive. There is a great photo of Erika in her clubbing days, looking rather dazed at the End Up club with her arm slung around best friend at the time Eric Allen Bass. She is wearing a semi-fabulous 90s-era nightclub outfit, purchased in Paris. He is wearing a T-shirt that says in huge block letters: Don't Even Ask. It's a great photo. But I digress.

So tonight it's Manhattans in celebration (???) of starting over, and we had a very close call with the new PC laptop (I know, Andrew, don't even start). This is after the unfortunate demise of the Mac laptop last week after a fight to the death with a martini (Martini, capital M? Hmmm, ex-New York Times copy editor?) Ok, clearly the drink is talking now. Ooops, nope, I don't drink except when Erika or Martin leaves a glass with some whiskey/beer/wine dregs lying around. That stuff is delicious!

At any rate, Erika is swearing to change her return address to Limbo, California until she finds her new dream house. A dream house that Martin actually likes, that is. Not that she is complaining. She continues to be quite enamored with her group of mommy friends in Bernal Heights, and only sometimes complains about carrying a 29-lb toddler several blocks when she finds a parking spot that is only 500 feet or so in elevation change. Damn those San Francisco hills! Well at least it keeps her in shape. And she has recently discovered ANOTHER really wonderful group of mommy friends in Martinez, of all places! Who said the suburbs weren't cool? Maybe we should expand our house hunt...

At any rate, it's a new year, I got some good catnip for Christmas, the Willett GRANDparents are visiting next week, and we are happy, healthy and otherwise well, despite all the house hunting drama (we even made it through the inspection!!!!). So, stay tuned to the blog, and we'll definitely let you know if we find any sunny, mouse-infested apiaries that we decide to purchase in the not-so-distant future. Now excuse me while I appropriate Erika's abandoned Manhattan glass...

On Outgrowing

No, this post is not going to be about my weight. Certain people have actually mentioned how svelte I look lately. This post is about outgrowing our apartment, or as we affectionately call it these days, The House of Plague (everyone except *me* seems to have a cold).

I thought it best to illustrate how we are outgrowing our apartment with some visual aids which, incidentally, contain images of Christmas cheer! But first, some background. Peter is a curious child. Curious and fearless. Not a great mix unless you have 24-hour supervision, and Erika tries her best but... At any rate, we have one room in the house (my new favorite room, where I now spend 90% of my time) that is off limits to Peter. We call it The Forbidden Room. It contains such curiosities as the always-on gas fireplace and the very tall bookshelves. It also now contains my cat food, my water, and my litter box because these three objects posed too great a temptation to Peter and after much heart ache and yelling, it was decided that everyone would be better off this way.

The Forbidden Room also happens to be our living room. It is adjacent to our dining room/play room/Erika's "office"/guest bedroom. Yes, those are all one room. I told you we were outgrowing this apartment. The living room is traditionally where one puts a Christmas tree. Our house is no exception. So, we did a bit of re-arranging and the Forbidden Room is also now the Room of Christmas Cheer.

Here is a picture of Erika taking a picture of the Christmas stockings, hung by the "fireplace" with care.

And here is Peter (with beloved lovey), next to our Christmas tree!

Oooooh, Christmas tree!

Luckily it is in the Forbidden Room.

Nice little Christmas scene, eh? Except that if you draw back or pan right just a tad, you might notice my food and water...hmm, that's not too Christmasy.

But even worse, if you draw back just a little further or pan left, you might notice...a...box... next to the artfully weathered couch arm. Hmmm, whatever could that be?

Oh NO! That doesn't smell like pine needles and Christmas cheer! Well, at least we have the Christmas-themed dustpan to sweep up the stray bits.

I don't mind sharing the Christmas room.

However, Erika and Martin are OVER it. Over the cramped digs, over the lack of heat in appropriate places (like maybe the bedroom and bathroom instead of the hallway?), over the schlepping a 28-lb child and his 28 lbs of STUFF up and down several hills because there was no parking spot within 2 blocks of the apartment, and OVER paying rent in the second most expensive rental market in the country. (Sorry, Andrew, but at least you get to live in my favorite city on the planet.)

Yes, I may finally say with all of my toes crossed and a healthy dose of cautious optimism...Erika and Martin are finally buying a house. Well, at least they are in the very beginning stages of buying a house (made offer, accepted counter offer). This is farther than they have ever gotten before, hence the cautious optimism. It's the one with the giant sun room and the resident rooster, so I've given my seal of approval. Next step: inspections and blah blah blah. Will probably happen between Christmas and New Year's. The house is in Nevada City, for those of you who have not been following along. It's the one that Erika fell in love with on sight. Ok, better not say too much. Don't want to jinx it.

Happy Holidays!

Grateful

Ok, so this would have been especially appropriate around Thanksgiving, but I've been, uh, Busy. And with this cold snap, I have even more to be grateful for. Like the gas-powered fireplace that I spent all day in front of yesterday. And today. And the extra comforter that Erika put on the bed last night. 54 degrees in the house this morning! BRRR. (For all of you midwesterners and east coasters reading along, anything below 50 outside is very cold for Californians, and we don't like our houses to get much below 68 degrees.)

Erika has her own list of things she is grateful for, starting with opposable thumbs. Ever tried changing a diaper filled with liquid poop on a wiggly toddler using only one hand and four fingers on the other hand? Didn't think so. It's hard. Erika sliced off the tip of her thumb this morning making mushroom barley soup for said toddler. The soup was delicious (or so I hear) and free of thumb bits, for those of you who were wondering.

Speaking of kitchen tools, Erika is also EXTREMELY grateful for her new Kitchen Aid!!! It's one of those things she wonders how she ever survived without. Baking bread is now a breeze. It's almost too easy. Instead of kneading for 25 minutes and trying to dissuade a whining toddler from climbing up her leg for 23 of those 25 minutes, she merely presses a button and voila! Play time with Peter while SIMULTANEOUSLY "kneading" bread dough! Amazing. It's a whole new level of multitasking. Stay tuned for Christmas cookies.

On a more serious note, Erika is thankful for her dear husband, Martin, who managed to watch TWO toddlers (favor to an ailing mother in Peter's play group) for much of this past weekend while Erika frolicked in Santa Cruz at Tina Wong's 40th birthday extravaganza. And what an extravaganza it was. Sand candles, exotic dancing aerobics, wine and cheese and home-made soy chai, and the company of some of the most extraordinary women she has ever met, which led to some intense emotional conversations about some other things that Erika is grateful for, like her mother. Some of these women sadly no longer have their mothers around, which made Erika appreciate her mother even more. She feels awfully lucky to have a happy, healthy mother who loves her and who she actually enjoys spending time with.

And while we are on the topic of being grateful for family members, Erika wants to be quick to mention that she is ALSO very thankful to have a happy, healthy father too. And, well, uncles and aunts and and cousins and nieces and nephews and in-laws, and of course we don't want to forget Peter George. Erika is awfully grateful for having him around as well.

But she is also very thankful to have Ashley the Wonder Nanny come for a visit every Thursday, to take Peter AWAY for the whole day so that Erika can do things like go to the dentist. And sit, undisturbed, with a cup of tea for 20 minutes or so. But of course Ashley would not be possible without the other mothers and boys who we share her with, and so Erika is also thankful for Peter's little buddies and their sweet, down to earth mothers who preserve Erika's sanity. Life would certainly be harder without them. But not as hard as changing a diaper with only one thumb.