Equal Trucking February 21 - March 15, 2007 No toying with Lisa's rights; last snow and first short sleeves; Sid's new job; granny finally arrives.

	Kids must naturally possess identical trucks

	Remnants of snow on Mt. Hamilton were just right for riding over.

Our family has been lately weathering Sid's change of employments, and thus we had little time and energy for big trips. Also, kids did not wreak any crazy deeds, and so actually nothing much happened that would deserve serious recording; I shall take a brief and scattered approach.

On one Friday, I took our children to our favorite Shoreline Park. A big shock awaited me there -- both Tom and Lizzy played with sand, for about ONE HOUR. For the first time in three and half years, I had experienced this much frowned-upon SITTING by the sand box -- and it was fantastic. Had I taken along a book or newspaper, I could have even attempted to read!!! There was no lifting kids up onto swings, no removing them from too-high jungle gyms, no sprinting after offspring running away each in another direction, no resolving fights over toys, no carrying a squealing mommy-baby. My children focused on digging in a few square yards of a sand box, and I enjoyed HOLY PEACE.

On Saturday we drove to check out Palm Beach by Santa Cruz. It had no tidal pools, hence we had packed a kite for the kids -- and Tom's big toy truck. The situation repeated itself. The two of us (Sid and I, that is) were flying the kite -- and the kids dug in sand on the first dune off the parking lot, not showing any interest in descending to the actual beach. We had noticed one complication -- Tom sported a big dump truck, and Lisa was left with a small one -- and it was, well, SMALL. And so we gave in and did something we had not planned -- we bought ANOTHER big toy truck. Tommy really plays a lot with his, and we could have forced him to share it with Lisa. Yet it seems counterproductive to deprive him of a toy that keeps his quiet attention for a long time.

	At the station before the train's departure

	Tom watches with concern every passing switch

Right after returning from the store, we were naturally bound to joyride the trucks. What if it was already dark outside, and cold like in a Russian movie? Tom was besides himself that he no longer needed to defend his beloved vehicle -- and Lisa was similarly breathless over the fact that she, too, was now riding with a beautiful dump truck. She would stop about hundred times during our walk, to pounce herself in the chest and importantly declaring, "Íša ák, Buf ák" (Lisa has a truck, Tom has a truck). Though I am deeply convinced that siblings should share toys and learn to live with not being able to own everything, I have to say that the second truck had considerably warmed up our family atmosphere. Its newness has worn off a bit by now, and I have already managed to complete a few walks with a tricycle and a push-car instead of the trucks, but still our kids sometimes demand to not leave the house, and stay in the back yard, running there with their dumping equipment.

Sid had been for some time now heavily sour from an unwelcome development at his existing job. In such a case, whimpering does not help, a new job does. After the new year rolled in, his search became easier, for there are many jobs offered, but the process takes time: first it is necessary to compile an overwhelming Résumé, submitting of which follows closely thereafter. In the case of interest, a candidate is to perform ritual dancing at interviews; the most difficult question is, how much would mister engineer imagine to get in terms of salary? One relatively attractive company turned very quiet after receiving an answer, other instead of money offered promises that perhaps once the firm gets rich, one could own a tiny equity in it. Right. And meanwhile we would sell our home and move to a homeless shelter. Fortunately, Sid had found a company which, besides a long commute, met all our (mostly his) criteria. Still it was necessary to continue the hiring process: talk in turns with all employees and one founder, hand over a list of so called references = current or former co-workers and supervisors, who would sing a more or less celebratory appraisal of the Hippo; it was necessary to officially determine that he has no criminal record or bad financial history. Eventually he received a wholesome offer and could give termination notice in his old workplace. Highest time -- his depressions had poisoned the whole family. Don't think that we will get rich quick, though. At best we hope to be able to afford to put Lisa into pre-school as well. As a "reward" for changing job, Sid lost all his vacation.

	Miss Dixiana Shay

	Running in Arroyo Seco

Around Christmas I began to cowardly beg from granny to arrive as soon as March. Somehow my darlings and (mine and their) never ending illnesses keep wearing me out. Perhaps it's because I have been, for three and half year, fighting with a chronic lack of sleep and humdrum of the fate of a mother. The situation is apparently so serious that even my Hippo has noticed -- and the other day took the kids out for the whole day. A look from our window revealed a snow-capped Mt. Hamilton, where children and their daddy would enjoy leftover snow and ice. It has been a real exotic experience for our little Californians.

During a weekend before granny's arrival, we took our children to ride a train in Felton. We wanted to try whether Lisa would this time enjoy Miss Dixiana, local steam engine. Tommy did not cause any worries, for ever since being very little he has always been fascinated by technology. We took our seats in the last car, for we know that a stretch of the hill must be overcome by backing the train up, and also the last platform door gives you a great view of switches, while one is not so much bothered by the engine's noise. Tommy had enjoyed it as expected (albeit the hour and a quarter was a bit long even for him). Lizzy showed greatest interest in the conductor. She was especially concerned whenever he disappeared to the platform, or jumped from one car to another while the train was in motion -- and my goodness, he actually stepped down from the train to throw a switch. In that case she appealed with a thin voice, "mister, mister", to us not to leave him behind in this deep forest.

We had no plans for Sunday; I had requested uncertainly to go somewhere "near a river, in shade". With a sudden impact, summer scorchers had descended upon us with the treachery of an April weather. Mornings get very cold, the air is icy, but at noon the sun burns almost unpleasantly. Furthermore it is still possible to find flowing rivers at this time of the year; in the summer, California will remember them by the dry canyons they leave behind.

And thus we checked our the pretty Arroyo Seco -- indeed: local river was still in operation. A larger congregation of Mexican families was splashing under a bridge; we marched a bit farther upstream. There, we finally found a small meadow for a picnic -- and a gentle bank for the kids to reach a quiet river ebb. We were counting on the offspring falling into the stream -- which in the case of a strong current might end much worse than with only wet clothes. During our stay and picnicking it became so warm that I changed the kids into shorts.

	The children's section was unseasonably empty

	Lisa loudly quacks at ducks in the Aquarium pond

When the children reached the hour of their afternoon nap, we boarded our bus again and drove through Carmel Valley all the way to Monterey. The road winds along the river where Steinbeck's Mac used to chase down frogs for Doctor's lab, and it took us good two hours. We pondered whether to take the kids on a beach, but then we opted for the Aquarium. They had enough sunshine for the day and besides, we speculated that one hour before closing might ease up on tourists.

While walking to Cannery Row, we bought ice cream on a stick for our little ones -- and were instantly transformed into a stereotypical Sunday family outing, and attracted looks of many bystanders. Lisa was ecstatic and horribly sticky, and soon Tom was too. The first thing we had to do at the Aquarium was washing little hands and wipe the worst spots on their clothes. Then off to see the fishes. All exhibits were truly less packed, and our children could actually play in the toddler's section without the risk of being stampeded by other junior visitors. Sardines, who usually tirelessly circle above the crowd's heads by the entrance to the Outer Bay section, dragged their tails on the floor of their tank after a busy weekend. A giant red octopus finally crawled from his hiding corner behind a boulder, stuck his vacuum cups on the glass and hungrily sized tourists seemingly within reach.

It turned out to be a somewhat hectic Sunday, but our complete rebellion of the regular schedule proved effective in our fight with the Daylight Saving. I do not know the moron who came up with shifting time three weeks earlier than before. Computers were not programmed for it and all sorts of public clocks would have shown wrong time; there was confusion in banking systems and similar things. We had to make our computers believe that we live in Arizona. Nevertheless all this hassle had one positive effect -- our kids used to get up brutally before seven a.m., and the switch shifted them into a much more civilized half past seven. They surprised us and did not protest when being sent to beds one hour earlier. I hope that this situation lasts.

	We were lucky at the Monterey Aquarium: a giant octopus was perky

	All the jellyfish hovered as usual with utter disregard to the advanced hour of a busy weekend

On March 15, granny finally flew in. Tom kept talking about all morning that "granny is on a plane, she must still fly across the ocean". After his afternoon nap, the moment finally came, we packed the kids' suitcases (yes, we packed our kids' bags at home, for one must go to the airport with a suitcase) and drove out. We made it with enough time to let the children ride in the airport shuttle train and on escalators. Granny worked the immigration officials in a record time and it did not have to come to planned camping and picnicking on the benches in the arrivals hall.

Tommy took granny's presence matter-of-factly -- it seems that the half year has passed very quickly for him. Lisa kept calling her "this" during the first evening, and it made her produce interesting sentences ("this is sitting"), but on the second day she broke the ice and when she burst out of the bedroom after her nap with a war cry, "granneeee", we knew she had won again. Object of her affection has been since re-trained tirelessly: now Lisa has granny under a very good control.

Copyright © 2007 by Carol & Sid Paral. All rights reserved.