Farewells June 14. - July 4, 2006 Frisky hippos, sad farewells and orphans in wilderness

	Tom is feeding birds

	Caught red-feathered: a thieving parrot immediately after the deed.

As I announced in previous journal, illnesses had befallen us again. Furthermore, tropical temperatures have descended upon us, to let us have yet "more fun". I won't bother you with details -- after all, most of the previous entries already ARE about life with sick kids -- hence I shall continue with events after having gotten better.

Unbearable heat is best survived in some cooler place. On one such hot Sunday, we went to the ZOO. Our forecast promised nineties (°F), San Francisco sixties. Indeed - despite the sunny day we soon donned sweatshirts and enjoyed the pleasant change. Our children responded to the zoo in a predictable way. Lisa held on to her stroller and marched vigorously; Tom also held onto his stroller and drove it in a rallye over storm drain grids. Sid and I admired exotic creatures. We were in luck this time -- a pretty day made the animals apparently happy and instead of sleeping somewhere in a corner, they roamed in their exhibits. Two young grizzly bears frolicked in their swimming pool, otters chased each other in their run, and even hippos showed athletic spirit and for about ten minutes maneuvered complicatedly from one end of their pond to the other. They actually opened their eyes and the smaller one jauntily burped into the water.

I should not just talk the kids down -- Tom showed great interest in "parrots". He talked about them after arriving at the ZOO and we found that in one aviary, children were being offered a chance to feed parakeets and small parrots. Tommy got issued a cluster of seed on a wooden stick and we went in to lure the birds. Tom's eyes were bulging with excitement, he commented on how the bird was marching up and down his little hand, and pecking on his finger. After a while though, yellow and green parakeets became too boring and he requested me to catch him a "blue parrot". I managed to talk him into switching his color choice to red and proceeded to entice a relatively large beast with our stick. Alas, all these birds are awfully unafraid. The parrot flew down, ripped the remaining seed cluster off of the stick and sat with it on a branch, out of my reach, where it feasted, undisturbed. Well, at least Tom experiences something memorable. Since then he has been telling anybody about the large parrot stealing and eating all the seeds.

	Hippos at the ZOO were almost frolicky this time

	Tom with Liddy joined the party in an American way - and refused to leave their respective cars when eating a cake

Lunch was another attraction for Tom. Given the utterly poor selection, he received fried chicken and fries with ketchup. He was besides himself with joy, for at home he is usually deprived of such pleasures for the benefit of healthy food. I can't shake off a feeling that the far best weekend program for Tom would be a visit to McDonalds and the adjacent parking lot -- especially if it contained a sufficient number of storm drain grids, and speed bumps. Yet we don't give up and have purchased a membership pass to the ZOO.

Naturally, we could not skip a kids' train ride. I think that it was Lisa's first time -- and she seemed to be aware of this fact, for she took this milestone very seriously and with dignity. Tommy was fascinated by our ride through a tunnel and past some gates, the train whistled and the driver rang a bell -- simply wonderful. Lisa began to snuggle up to at some point, I thought she might be afraid, but when we were getting off the train, she made a heartbreaking scene. Now I don't know how to understand it.

Our next weekend was somewhat sad. Chance had it that in the next few days, three groups of our friends would leave us -- and so we made farewells. On Saturday, we celebrated Mischa's first birthday in Berkeley, with his parents Jitka and Kája. Tommy kept hollering during our ride there that we were to meet with Liddy (Mischa's sister). He then really spent most of the afternoon riding with Liddy in local communal toy cars. Tommy ended up receiving wonderful presents -- Liddy's parents were limited in their luggage capacity when traveling back to Czech Republic, as dictated by airline carriers -- and so our kids got a puzzle with a little mole, and Tom became a proud owner of the best gift -- Liddy's old backhoe. We treasure it enormously -- Lidka is a very technically oriented girl and it sure was not easy to part with such a beauty.

	Hansel and Gretchen or Lisa and Mischa

	Lizzy considers merry-go-round rides a serious matter.

On Sunday we attended another farewell party, this time in Vasona Park. Pavlicek's were moving "only" to San Diego -- that is, a stone's throw away, plus an eight-hour car drive, of course. Alas, that's how life goes here -- people follow their jobs, especially when they receive a substantially better offer. And thus we lost another set of friends, although we gained a San Diego base, when we go on a trip to Sea World or their famous ZOO.

Zuzka and Tomáš came in the afternoon to pick up some movies and books, which we had borrowed. This farewell was perhaps least formal, but again -- off into the distance (actually, to Vancouver) people go whom we counted among our friends and who's presence we tended to take for granted. The price for it was our becoming "social orphans".

Even orphans can lead a fun life, though. This year's Independence Day fell on Tuesday, and that meant a four-day weekend. In the end we agreed that we would drive out on Sunday and return on Monday night. That way, we aimed to avoid traffic jams, and further we reckoned that one night in a tent with two lively children may drain us so much that we would soon long for the comfort of our beds at home.

While trying to pack a tent, mats, sleeping bags, clothing, water, all the food for Lisa for two days and dinner and breakfast for the rest of us, diapers, creams, kids' first aid kit, torches, toys and countless other necessities, into our wagon, we began to regret that we did not own our bus yet. We had to leave behind Tom's restaurant booster, and Lisa's stroller. Not that we'd expect any terrain suitable for wheeled strolls, but Lizzy uses it for walking (since she still needs some support) and it's one of the few ways how to "let her run". Eventually we all somehow squeezed in drove out.

Soon it became clear that it had been a long time since we last traveled. We found our favorite Asian buffet in Tracy closed, and had to seek an alternative. A barred road near Strawberry, which we used to take to our favorite camping spot, was quite an unpleasant surprise. Good that we had arrived in the early afternoon (i.e. before dusk) and could spend an hour looking for a suitable campsite, pacifying our kids and releasing them into the wilderness. Tommy has naturally thrown himself at twigs and pinecones. We kept dismissing his complains about dirty hands saying he should brush dirt off. Then I did not think and took him by his hand, to make him walk faster -- and for the following two days regretted it -- Tom's hands were not as much dirty as they were sticky with sap, of which I thus received a generous share. We were to learn the next lesson of the life in the woods soon: curious flies and mosquitos came to check us out. Where we live, close to the ocean, they are practically unknown -- and our Tom would completely freak out. I hope that he will forgive me my first parental lie -- flies don't do anything, they live in the woods and they just came to see who came to camp here. A load of repellent, plus a very careful explaining, succeeded in suppressing his hysteria, and Sid and I could continue with putting up the tent.

	Tommy demanded to be allowed to splash in this beautiful lake

	Our favorite Kennedy Meadows Stanislaus River at Upper Meadow.

By the evening we visited Pinecrest Lake. It offers a flat, shallow beach, partially hidden in a pine grove -- it appeared to be an ideal spot to let our kids frolic, and for a dinner picnic. Tom rejoiced at seeing water, and began to rip his clothing off. We were a bit worried whether someone could object to a naked child, but people were rather amused by Tom's bathing enthusiasm. Lisa rolled on a blanket and generally enjoyed freedom of motion.

Eventually we agreed that both kids were losing coordination and though of early going to bed. However, when we finally managed to stuff both children in the tent, their rag doll figures transformed into circus artists. Lisa actually dropped her milk bottle (!!!) and commenced ruckus. Such a nice space, all softly upholstered with mats and sleeping bags -- it must have been put together for the purpose of jumping and throwing cartwheels. I don't recall how we had pacified the kids in the end -- Sid claims that I fell asleep first.

The night was a happening. We had been afraid that our ecstatic (or alternatively, scared) children were about to wake us up. To prevent fighting between our offspring, Lisa and I lied in one direction, while Sid and Tom opposed us -- and kids slept with their heads pointed away from each other. This system has proven successful and our children snoozed off for most of the night. That is, if your definition of quiet sleep includes Tom riding his tricycle in his sleep, stepping out of his bag every twenty minutes or so, which woke Sid up, who then, in the dark, tried to stuff him back. Lizzy twice rolled away from me to the other end of the tent, where I had to collect her and stove her back under my bag. This in turn meant that our baby got another chance to snuggle up into mommy's bed. It's cute, but our baby is quite strong and heavy, too -- for the rest of the night, our bundle of joy would evict me out to the tent's wall -- Lisa and I had hardly occupied more than half of the mat, so close was our sharing a bed. Sometime in the middle of the night I was cramped and felt penetrated by a mortal stiffness. Lisa penalized my every attempt to move or change position with unhappy groaning, eventually with screaming. So eventually I was hoping for the morning -- or rather for the moment when the kids would get up and I thus should have a legal reason to leave my bed. When the longed-for time came, I felt like an old slapstick comedy hero -- my body insisted that the only joint in my body is located somewhere in the vicinity of my waist, and I emerged from the tent like Pluto (the dog). I must be getting old, when one night in a tent can bring me down this much -- or I got used to the extreme comfort of our bed at home.

	Carol the beast of burden There's a great outdoors here, but this year it was hot

	Kids invaded the tent with joy -- and in a blink of an eye turned it into a horrible bunk.

After breakfast we headed for Kennedy Meadows. On the way there Tommy, while watching the mountains out of his window, hollered that they were beautiful, which of course made us very happy. Perhaps every parent longs for his child to share his or her interests and hobbies -- Tom's spontaneous enthusiasm face to face with natural beauty is a sign of our going in the right direction. We promised him horseys at Kennedy Meadows, and so our first sightseeing stop was at their corrals. We managed to drag him away only under the condition that we would see more horses on the trail. Fortunately, we spoke the truth -- the pack station was in great demand that day and one group after another emerged from their stables.

Lisa rode on me -- and I felt noticeably less fresh than the horses we met. At least Tommy was all beside himself from us walking next to a river, and soon we settled down into a shady spot at the riverside. I rested, Lisa crawled, and Tom threw pebbles into the water. Our family council has decreed that we could not remain so lame, and we conquered another short section of the horse trail. Alas, noon was approaching and trotting in the baked dust with loads on our backs turned more exhausting than we had expected. At least we made it to the first bridge -- and there we turned back. Lizzy began to ask for a lunch, and we looked forward to the cool at the inn. Tommy did not want to get strapped back in the carrier and upliftingly dithered up and down the trail -- climbing on boulders, jumping off of them, and saying that the horse road was beautiful. Well, perhaps because he, being of feather weight and unlike us, would not sink ankle deep into the waves of fine sand.

We quickly ate something small for a lunch and rushed to pack. We made it back home in one stretch, in three hours. Lisa slept part of the way, groaning by the end. Tommy would not sleep, and he instead commented the surroundings passing by. His greatest attraction was a windmill farm at Altamont Pass. We had hard time explaining to Tom that these "propellers" would not appear again further down along our way. First he opposed us claiming that he could see more propellers on hills in the distance ahead, and when he ran out of logical arguments, he declared with a decisive voice, "Maybe there will be propellers, daddy!" Tom has reached his negation phase. Sometimes it's funny (like his conviction that by a simple strength of will, he could arrange for more wind turbines to be erected), but often in yanks at our nerves. He would not break fast, he would not go out of the house, he wants not to be left at home, won't leave the playground, won't eat lunch, won't pee, won't sleep, won't get up, won't have a snack, won't get into the pool, and won't get out of the pool... all that with a whiny voice that revvs me up immensely. And then he suddenly discovers that he had possibly exceeded the tolerance and runs back to make good -- to snuggle up and give kisses and promises to be good again. He has days when he's the cutest kid under the sun -- helps us to roll garbage containers back behind the garage, sweeps the floor, unloads the dishwasher, feeds Lisa, brings her toys, does not talk back, does not have ideas, talks about his incredibly cute fantasies and cooperates. Then there are days when he's driven by a thousand devils and we fear what shall become of him.

	Lisa reckons that she's a big girl now and does not need her baby chair...

	... if only she would let go of the stroller and walked the world without support....

Lizzy has been no less demanding. She has decided to walk -- but not by herself. She best likes to walk hand in hand, which is somewhat imposing on parental spine. She likes to push her stroller -- but only if Tom does not have anything better (like a tricycle). In that case, while emitting an ultra-sound squeal, she rushes on all four after Tom, complaining to the whole neighborhood how a neglected baby she has been. The example of big brother gives us plenty complications already. Lisa reckons that she won't sit in her baby chair, and began to reach for Tom's chairs. After several falls she finally learned to sit on them -- and also discovered that if she pushes the chair to my desk and stands up on top, she can cause good damage on my computer. Her fascination with airplanes seems to persist -- they are her most favorite toys and most noticeable vehicles (given the fact that we live ten miles from a relatively frequented international airport, she has plenty of opportunities to watch planes). Still she comes up with mischief of her own -- like pulling out bottom cupboard drawer, stepping in, and being able to reach the top counter.

Overall, we remain optimistic -- this time the kids handled our long trip quite well. Our interactions keep improving and as soon as Lisa decides to walk into her world, our horizons are about to extend more still. I begun to see a light at the end of the tunnel... I hope it's not just the oncoming train.

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