A bus! May 15 - 25, 2006 Wondering about wheels for the whole traveling circus; fever and jealousy

	A rainy day -> with granny to the aquarium

We typically don't celebrate the Mother's Day, but this year I would like to mention it. We split our kids - Sid with Tom went hiking somewhere, I wanted to stay with recovering Lisa at home and make it less strenuous for her. Without Tom's disturbing presence, Lizzy easily fell asleep in the morning, and before noon I took her out shopping at Costco. It was noisy there and I somehow missed a cell call. Sid and Tom have returned home before I expected it and began to look for us. When I did non answer, our resident disaster planner that I a) locked my keys in the car b) including the cell phone, c) optionally along with Lisa, and d) now I run up and down the parking lot desperately, looking for help. Not wasting any minute, they drove out to find and rescue us. Which is admirable, but now I feel like Sid deserved the flowers more than I did on that day.

During the week I arranged a meeting on a beach with a sister and a niece of my friend Zuzka. Alas, the morning forecast for Santa Cruz was bad, and a tide chart pointed to our favorite beach with tidal pools being under water. Zuzka and I quickly agreed on a backup plan -- Seymoure Discovery Center. I already wrote about it here and here, and I won't repeat myself. This visit was interesting mostly through the encounter between Tom and a girl of similar age -- this aforementioned niece Andrea.

	Don't be fooled -- Tom is not fishing -- he is playing with a harbor crane

Tommy showed great interest in Andrea and demanded to walk with her hand in hand. She was being shy and would not leave her mother's protective wings -- there might have been too many impressions all at once -- traveling from Europe, foreign environment, and now intense courtship by some strange boy. Tom has begun to communicate with other kids lately, and he's specially pleased to encounter someone of his own age. I think that his pre-school program is mostly to be thanked for it, as there he is forced to deal with everything without the help of his mother. From the aquarium we went to have lunch in Santa Cruz, Zuzka, Barbara and Andrea went for another walk. The little girl apparently has had a great effect on Tom, for during our drive home he said to "love the little girl". It surprised me, since it hitherto did not seem at all that he would distinguish between genders, but now he turned out to notice that girls are different.

On the same day, afternoon, we met with his school buddies at a playground -- twins Mike and James have a Czech nanny, and Jane and I took advantage of that. Tom visibly enjoyed to see familiar faces at the jungle gym, and we adults had time to chat. Not that we would have too much time anyway, between the runs to check our boys. I thought that Tom has really had a full day, and attributed his evening tiredness to a hectic program.

	Andrejka and Tommy at the whale display

At night, though, Tommy kept waking up, and complained about belly aches. It took my by surprise -- we don't encourage frivolous bellyaching at home, and thus I concluded that he must have had some real problem. In the morning, stomach ache was the first thing he whined about even before he cracked his eyes open. I hesitated no more and called doctor's for an appointment. Naturally I had not much choice at short notice, and would not get anybody to baby sit Lisa, hence I was bound to go with the whole circus. My being an honest fool and trying to be in the waiting room on time, did not pay, again. I had managed to keep the kids together during the first half hour, but then it got out of my hands. Tom wanted to play with things in the kids' corner, which I objected to. I was not sure that he was being ill at all, and did not want to risk him catching something from other kids. Lisa, too, refused to keep sitting -- she's a very active baby and needs her room for motion. And so I asked the receptionist when it's supposed to be our turn with the good doctor. She conjured a nurse, who leisurely declared that she would estimate it for another thirty to forty minutes. I demanded some solution -- my kids were going nuts, and lunchtime was upon us. Tom chimed in, and started to beg me that we leave at once, saying he was sorry to ever having been bad (he had apparently concluded that being forced to stay in a boring room where he's forbidden to play with toys, must be some sophisticated sort of punishment -- and I don't blame him). So I began to raise my voice. I was told to stop shouting, but given the fact that my roar has caused a shift manager to materialize before me, and a doctor to show up a few minutes after that, I intend to shout again next time -- for dealing with them quietly leads only to advice of the type, buy some snacks for the kids at a vending machine, wait till afternoon, when the doctors may care to return from their lunches, or go to the emergency room.

	Tom's wait is finally over and he may hold a girl by her hand.

The doctor did not waste any time with us -- she listened to and touched Tom's stomach, looked into his throat and ears, declaring that he might have some beginning viral infection, and bellyaching can be a symptom. The whole thing lasted some two minutes -- and I needed nothing more -- I just wanted to be sure that Tom was not developing inflammation of the appendix or similar trouble, right before the weekend. What I don't understand is why a twenty minute checkup that could easily be performed by a trained nurse, I had to wait forty five minutes with two kids, especially since I had an appointment for a specific time.

Tommy stopped complaining about his stomach, and we put it behind us and turned to realizing our weekend plans. As I have lately been rumbling about our good old faithful wagon being on its last leg, and since we keep circling around various vehicles which would contain both children, granny, a stroller, a tricycle, two backpack for carrying our offspring, some buckets and shovels for sand workout, diapers, food, spare clothes, assorted toys and blankets, a picnic cloth, plus all the other necessities for family life out of home. Our original idea outlined some slightly larger car, which would have a four wheel drive, with a third seating row option. Alas, from all offered models (Ford Freestyle, Subaru Tribeca, Honda Pilot, Toyota Highlander, Chrysler Pacifica) not one could convince us, and so, with a defeatist's sigh, we began to eye minivans that we so far use to make fun of, calling them buses. A preliminary research has eliminated all but one candidate -- Toyota Sienna.

	Unfortunately for us, we have reached this picturesque beach of Bonny Doon after the sun had already set

In our case it would be a big change -- after all, when one is choosing among cars and is used to a station wagon, ending up with a bus may be a bit sudden. And so we decided to rent a Sienna for a weekend and check out what such a bus means in real life. Most of all, we needed to know how comfortably the both of us can drive it. Sid with his hippo-like figure has a problem to fit behind many a steering wheel; I seem to possess a physiological anomaly and some of the seats cause legs to hurt, and besides that we have been spoiled by Subaru seats where after eight hours behind the wheel, you can just get up and walk away without the feeling of having been broken in a wheel. Alas, the level of seat comfort cannot be discerned by driving for three minutes around the block -- one can only experience it after one or two hours. Furthermore, we wanted to test how much is the bus limited by its own size with regard to parking it, cornering and controlling it in adverse situations.

By Saturday noon we thus became temporary users of a Sienna -- just it time -- I, Sid, both of our kids, Petr and grandmother -- that should be enough for extreme conditions. We loaded the kids and Petr, and drove out to visit Sid's colleague, Klaus. He lives in Santa Cruz Mountains in a place which we managed to find, in narrow threads of steep roads and driveways, right at a second attempt. Gentlemen then retreated to a second story den, and I tried to entertain Tom and Lisa, which was not easy at all. Lizzy's reaction to a cat was interesting - she reached for him eagerly and followed him with great focus, but trouble came when the cat began showing interest in her. After several attempts she let me convince her to pet him. I still think that Tommy's example was the deciding point.

	Petr, Klaus, Lisa, Carol, Karin, Tom (Sid taking picture).

With Klaus and his wife Karin we then headed for a beach, to give the kids a chance to run for a moment. Even we the adults enjoyed crossing a creek. I carried Lisa on my back, Sid had Tom, Klaus had built an array of stepping stones, then took off his shoes and helped all jumpers. Of course his wife received a special service -- she was carried across the ford (with much huffing) in his arms. At the ocean edge Tom first asked to take off trousers and run into the waves, but soon began to complain about being cold. Since his dinnertime has arrived, we attributed his mood change to that, feeling cold to his being hungry, and headed for a restaurant. Klaus promised to introduce us to his favorite Mexican cantina. Sid and I were quite skeptical -- we find Mexican joints indistinguishable from each other, and we often find their food too heavy. Not to mention that flavors of beans, cheese, ground meats and various flat dough really quickly permute and become repetitive. In the end we were more than pleasantly surprised. Hidden and easily overlooked Fiesta Tepa-Sahuayo was packed with patrons. We soon understood why. Their menu lacked the usual burritos and tacos. I ordered stuffed peppers, Sid the adventurer had some sea critters, Petr got a kettle with a peculiar black colored mix. It all looked very exotic and tasted WONDERFUL. Yet Tom refused to take part in our dinner, wanted to cuddle and go to his bed. I therefore have spent the last half hour with Tom in the car -- he got his evening milk, which he almost did not taste at all, and I quickly searched my memory for fairy tales -- I told him at least ten of them, and started to worry about Tom's unusual behavior.

Lisa, too, behaved like exchanged. She dropped her dependence on mamma, and enjoyed the dinner. I am afraid that this is exactly the type of evening program she would love -- at nine p.m., let's go with a medium group to a pub, instead of being stuffed by boring parents into a boring bed. Her good mood lasted all the way home. Here again the bus excelled. Sid and Petr chatted in the front seats, Tom slept in the middle, and in the last row Lisa and I kept the light on and played without disturbing anyone else.

	Lisa gave us an unmistakable signal that she's done eating baby food: with much gusto she began consuming Tom's unfinished meaty lunch.

Tom being simply put to bed, we noticed that he had a bit of a temperature. He was 38,5°C in the morning. Family council ruled that Sid would stay at home with the patient and I would take Lisa, Petr and granny for a ride, to let me check out the bus (I had a beer at Klaus's the day before, and most of the time Sid drove). We had planned a hike around Point Lobos, but by the time we reached Monterey it was raining cats and dogs. We had to limit ourselves to Carmel Mission. Lisa was understandably not impressed, demanded to be carried, but only by her own mother, which turned me into a beast of burden visiting a historic site -- she then winked her eye on other tourists and allowed them to praise her extraordinary cuteness. Our lunch choice fell on Tommy's Wok - inexpensive, tasty, quick. The last attribute made me especially happy -- Sid just called that Tom got a thirty nine and I began to feel like going home right away. Well, it was not that easy. A connecting highway between the coastal #1 and inland #101 was jammed. I turned around, attempting to divert through Santa Cruz and highway #17. I don't like the seventeen -- sharp turns in the mountains, concrete walls along both sides, miserable cell phone coverage, steep ravines -- all this turns this freeway into a trap. In the case of an accident there's no way to get out or around. In fog and rain it's quite a feat. We were lucky, though, and somehow made it through the mountains back home -- and at least I could say that the test vehicle has passed another grueling exercise. Yes, it would seem that despite our original objections our next family fleet member will be -- a BUS.

	In the company of her peers, Lisa holds on tight to her mother.

Ill Tom was awaiting us at home. His fever had lasted for two days and I was pretty glad that granny was at hand. Not because of Tom -- he was actually a very easy patient, demanding a few drinks only sometimes, and that I change the disc in the DVD player. The ensuing situation, however, has driven Lisa crazy. Her brother abruptly stopped to want to play with her, and would not respond positively to her simple encouragements; moreover, HE has become the center of everybody's attention and parental care in general. Lizzy would track with a jealous look every one of my attempts to care for Tom, and had to be involved in everything, at least by whimpering and whining from a position near my knees. We had to separate the children -- took turns in taking Lisa outdoors, providing her with some activities, while the remaining parent cared for Tom. At nights we alternated shifts by Tom -- temperature measuring and lowering the fever.

Lisa chose one such night for parental emergency drill. It is initiated by the baby desperately crying, and stopping to cry only when mother sits down beside her bed and tickles said baby on her back. This is possible to sustain for several hours in a row. This time Lisa encountered sleep deprived, unnerved parents -- and chose a night when granny was in Monterey and we had her room available. To move a collapsible crib there, put the baby in and explain to her that her ancestors are no guinea pigs, was a matter of few moments. Lisa realized very quickly that she no longer found herself in the same room with her sleeping brother (a fact which makes us respond promptly to her loud demands) and that her screams ceased to be effective; she continued to sleep peacefully for the rest of the night. It appears that Lizzy is a relatively intelligent infant, and she learned her lesson. Suddenly she became a much nicer baby. She stopped to scream and make scenes -- if she needs cuddling or holding, she comes to me and reaches for me cutely with her little hands. She might have even discovered that the sugar method is much more effective -- who would deny a cute, smiling baby? Perhaps it's only Tom's illness that seems to recede and the whole family returning to our normal order -- Tom plays with her again, we take both of them out for walks and don't puzzle over thermometers. Maybe Lisa really simply feared an unknown situation -- feeling that there was something wrong -- and needed more reassurance of parental affinity and care. Be it this or that way -- I hope that Tommy will be healthy again and Lisa's nice behavior lasts. It's much simpler to live with two happy and healthy kids.

Copyright © 2006 by Carol & Sid Paral. All rights reserved.