San Diego: The Final Chapter

And now, my fans, the moment you have all been waiting for. The end of our coastal journey to San Diego and back. (And by "fans" I am referring to my mom, a handful of friends and my husband, sometimes. He is a very busy man.)

In a nutshell, THE DRIVE HOME SUCKED!!!

We left San Diego at around 10:30 in the morning for what should have been about a 4 hour drive to the Danish town of Solvang, CA. However, we did not arrive at our destination until 6:30 that evening. This is thanks in part to Southern California traffic, a bathroom break and a lunch stop at a Chili's in Carson, CA where, based on the service, was clearly run by drunk, blind, monkeys.

Despite the fact that it was late and we were starving, we insisted on doing the one thing we wanted to do when we left San Diego: get to our hotel, unpack the car and take a dip in the pool. A pool that, turns out, was not as family friendly as our experience at the Madonna Inn. The pool was in the center of the hotel and surrounded by outdoor patios that hotel guests could sit on and enjoy a glass of wine. I'm referring specifically to one young couple in particular. I remember looking up at them and thinking, "They have the right idea. Cool evening. A nice bottle of Pinot." And then my thought was interrupted by the sound of the rest of our troop heading out the the pool. There was splashing, and yelling, playing and general disturbing the peace.

It was so romantic.

And then, Madison took a pretty good fall, bumping her head with a loud "THWACK" on the tiled ground surrounding the pool and thus began a fit of screaming that lasted several migraine-inducing minutes. Poor little thing. This was about the time the couple retreated inside and I thought to myself, "It appears we have become one of those families." And I am also guessing ensured that they would be using a second method of birth control that evening. You're welcome.

Now, my Grandpa, Frank Andersen (with an S-E-N), is Danish. While he was born here, his parents were from Denmark. He grew up in Wisconsin in a Danish community but lived here during a time where it was more important to assimilate to American culture so he never really spoke Danish. He then moved to California and married my Grandma whose ethnic background consists of about 14 billion different European counties. Since my Grandpa is 100% Danish, my dad is half making me one quarter. Although it is just one quarter, it is the most I am of anything. Growing up, my only real experience with the culture was through a few dishes he would make. One was Liverpaste that I thought smelled (and was) cat food so as a kid I refused to touch it. My Grandpa hasn't made it in years and I would die to try some now as an adult.

At thanksgiving (or anytime the whole family was together) he would make us Danish Pancakes which are thin crepe-like pancakes filled with jams and sweetened cream cheese. Or plain with butter and syrup, like I liked them. And every Christmas he makes a huge batch of fried Kleiner cookies. He packages them up in holiday tins and sends them off to all 4 of his sons. They last about 20 minutes in the house when them arrive. They are just that good.

Being that Solvang is a replica of a little Danish town I couldn't help feel like I was getting back to my roots. You know! A chance to be with my people! Who are, apparently, a lot of Asian tourists.

One of Denmark's more famous dishes is the aebleskiver. Little round balls of pancakey goodness. The first time I ever had on of these things was in Solvang a few years ago. I guess my Grandpa used to make these little treats for my dad and his brothers growing up but my dad never seemed to want to carry on the tradition with my sister and I. My dad is a more savory breakfast fan and doesn't "like" pancakes or some crap like that. I don't get it either. But in his defense, the man can make a mean over-easy egg. Well, I am glad I discovered them in adulthood because they are divine.

Aside from being a Danish village, another little piece of my heart will always belong to Solvang. You see, in high school, I was in show choir. Yes, that's right, I was basically in the late nineties version of Glee. Grant was in it too. And while I never got a slushy to the face or faked being pregnant with his baby, we did go on tour. One of our stops was always Solvang where we would go into the candy and fudge shop and sing for free samples. Interestingly enough, after breakfast, we actually ran into someone who happened to be in town for a wedding who used to sing in show choir with us. Coincidence? Or perhaps it was fate telling us to sing for the fudge once again!!! Since I preferred to not get arrested that day, we bought the fudge like normal human beings.

And then we headed home and left vacation behind us. I think I was most impressed with my son. Charlie was a trooper and despite being taken in and out of the car every day, sometimes several time a day, and never being in the same place to sleep for more than three nights, he slept and ate like a champ. Upon our return home, we even found a couple new teeth in there. A teething baby and an enjoyable vacation? That's really all this mom could have asked for.

San Diego: Part Three

I didn't used to hate the beach. Quite the contrary, actually. As a teen I spent many summer days there, tanning (burning) in the sun and playing in the ocean. But then my innocence began to dwindle away and I became an adult who started to view the beach as messy, cumbersome and just so...so...sandy. I no longer found it fun or endearing to have sand in my hot dogs or all my crevices. Perhaps if there was a way to remove the sand and grow grass? Or better yet, pave it! And now with Charlie in the picture, I am convinced that the beach is a even more evil place full of sand tunnels that will collapse and suffocate my baby and an undertow that will suck my boy out to sea.

Nevertheless, we were going to San Diego and I was feeling a pull toward the beach that I just couldn't seem to fight. While I believe it is okay for Charlie to have a healthy fear of the ocean (and water in general) I want it to be more like a "respect" for the water kind of fear and not "the-monsters-under-your-bed-are-going-to-eat-your-feet-at-night" kind of fear.

So we put on our swimsuits, grabbed our beach towels and headed down to the beach. The kids had fun, digging for sand crabs and getting pummeled by the crashing waves. I even ventured into the water up to my knees and I can honestly say that I did not have a terrible time. This is progress. Charlie loved the water as well and would point to it and say, "Watey?" He even got mad when we tried to take him back up to the blankets to warm up when we noticed his lips we turning blue. He lasted a few minutes more until a particularly strong wave knocked him right down despite the fact that Grant was hanging on to his hands. Grant stood him up and Charlie reached up for him and said through his sniffles, "Daddy? Night-Night." Translation: "Get me the hell out of this water."

The next day was the world famous San Diego Zoo and do you know who was the most excited to go?

ME!!!

Do you know why? Because there are pandas at this zoo! PANDAS!! I loved pandas as a kid and I collected them. I had glass, ceramic, porcelain, plush, you name it. I remember the one Christmas my parents got me a stuffed, life-size panda. That was a good Christmas.

The San Diego zoo is roughly the size of Rhode Island so a plan of attack is a must upon entering the park. We were going to start with a bus ride around the zoo and then lunch where they...wait for it...served booze!

Zoo: 1, Legoland: 0.

Margaritas and beer to be exact. We opted for Margaritas. Did you know that Margaritas come in a can? Because they do. And they are carbonated and they taste just about as good as you would expect them too. Hmmmmm....

Zoo: 0, Legoland: 1

The San Diego Zoo is beautiful. Charlie was in love with any of the animals that could be seen swimming in the water through the glass like the hippos and the turtles. In fact, when it was time to leave the turtles he threw a fit that was so aggressive it almost made me say to the other parents admiring the turtles, "I know that blond little boy who is screaming and kicking looks nothing like the man who is picking him up and dragging him out of here, but I swear he is not being kidnapped. He is just really into turtles." It was clear that Charlie was truly enjoying the zoo and this was better than any park out there, free or otherwise.

Zoo: 1, Legoland: 0

By this time of the day, I have said this about 14,000 times: "So, seriously guys, when are we going to see the pandas?" And the time had come. I was so excited for this moment. San Diego is one of the two places in the country that you can see pandas. It was a childhood dream finally coming true. There was a line to get into the panda enclosure. As we approached the entrance we could hear a zookeeper telling guests fun facts about the pandas using a microphone. We walked into the enclosure and the zookeeper says, "Again, I need to ask that you please be QUIET. If you don't Gao Gao will go back inside and you will not be able to see him AT ALL!"

Be quiet? Says the woman over the PA system. And there was the panda, curled up in a ball in the corner. I am also 99% sure that he had his paws in his ears, what with all the yelling at zoo guests that was going on. His face was completely hidden and his black and white fur barely peaking out from behind the bush he was cowering behind. Next to the series finale of "Six Feet Under" it was probably the most anti-climactic moment of my life. I'm still not totally convinced that it was not a stuffed one from the gift shop.

Zoo: 0, Legoland: 1

To ease the pain from the lame panda viewing, there was only one option. Ice-cream for all! I think based on the following picture Charlie would agree, the Zoo won.


Nom Nom Nom


Turtles


Koala, or as Charlie called it "Wall-ah!" I wanted to take him home so I could use him as a pillow every night. Grant said no.


Two of the cutest little monkeys I saw that day.

Oh, where is the picture of the panda you ask? We didn't get one because instead of coming out to play Gao Gao decided to CRUSH MY CHILDHOOD DREAM!

I blame Legoland.

Dear Teen Me

I wrote a letter to my teenage self and it was featured here on the blog "Dear Teen Me."

I think the only thing I left out was to tell myself to enjoy wearing leggings while you can because although the trend comes back around, your legs are in no position to be wearing them ever again.