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Posts Tagged ‘Travel’

After SweetPea was born when we were getting ready to leave the birthing center I strapped her into her car seat for the first time; She didn’t much seem to care and she slept the entire 2 hour drive home despite me poking her every 3minutes to make sure she was still breathing.

It went on like this for the first few months. Every time I put her in her car seat she would instantly fall asleep and not wake up until we reached out destination it was lovely.

But then one day on the way home she didn’t fall asleep instead she cried the whole way, and then it happened again, and again until I began to dread taking her anywhere that involved a lengthy car trip.

My first solution was to start leaving the house right around when she’d take her first nap of the day. I’d fill her full of breast milk, strap her into her car seat and hope that the 2 miles of bumpy dirt road would lull her to sleep; this worked almost every time, but once we made it into town and she woke up the rest of the stops were agony and the ride home was filled with the sound of sad screaming baby.

Last week my Hubby and I took SweetPea to visit his parents who live 3 hours from our home. I knew I could count on SweetPea to sleep for the first hour of the drive so I set up a playdate with a friend who lived in the first town we pass through, after crawling around on the floor and having lots of fun we headed out for the next leg of our journey and she was so exhausted she fell asleep almost immediately, and continued to sleep until we were about a half hour from our final destination. Now normally what I would do in this case is stop for a minute, check her diaper, fill her tummy and put her back in her car seat. Sometimes this works, but most of the time she starts getting upset before I even have her buckled in.

But this time when we pulled over we were at a beautiful beach park and I decided to try something new. We got out of the car and watched seagulls and waves crash for a while before changing her diaper and having a snack. When I put her back in her seat she was happy and made it the rest of the way with only a few unhappy outbursts.

Prior to SweetPea’s birth we would always drive from point A to point B only stopping when absolutely necessary, and always trying to make the best time possible, but with a 7 month old baby getting bored and restless in the backseat we very quickly learned that this was no longer possible.

So we went to the beach everyday of our trip, and didn’t stop there. Since finding out how helpful it is to stop and wear SweetPea out before continuing on our car journeys we’ve seen so much more cool stuff than we every had before. We saw Lions, Tigers and other wild cats at Great Cats World Park, we road in a gondola through the redwood trees at the Trees of Mystery, and we even stopped at a Medieval Festival on our way home the other day when previously we would have just passed it by, and thanks to our new found need to spend time out of the car we got to watch men in full armor jousting on horseback. As sight we would have other wised passed by.

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California mountain tops float like islands across the endless sea of San Fransisco fog.

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Why… Oh Why… Do I always book the redeye?

This is the thought that I ponder as I stuff rolled up pairs of jeans and vitamin supplements into my big red travel case. “Why?” I say.

It always seems like a good idea. We can leave after my husband gets off work making the most of the vacation time. We’ll get to Humboldt with time for breakfast with whoever retrieves us from the airport. I can sleep on the plane which will be just like getting a restful nights sleep in my bed at home… right?

WRONG… This is where I’m always wrong. I have this delusion that I’m gonna be able to sleep on the plane. That for some reason this time… unlike the 50 times before… I’m just gonna plop down in my seat close my eyes and drift off into a peaceful sleep surrounded by strangers breathing recycled air, then I’m gonna wake up 5 hours later at SFO and it’s only gonna seem as if it took 5 minutes to get there…

Hahahahaha… doubtful. Now I’m not gonna say it’s not possible, because I suppose it could be “possible”, but it’s sure as hell not likely. I can never sleep when I fly, there’s always something, and when I do nod off I never get past that stage right before restful sleep… It’s almost like being stuck in a deep meditation… except its not peaceful or restful and time doesn’t pass much faster…

But I do get to fly with my husband instead of by myself which is exciting because besides having the company it means he’s accompanying me on vacation which I LOVE! And in only 5 short hours we’ll be in California and then it’s just a puddle jump to Humboldt for breakfast with my parents!

Who needs sleep when you’ve got love and family?

And three puppies waiting at home?

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I recently held a Pole on my blog to decide which version of a photograph was best to accompany a previous blog entitle 2,387 Miles.

And the results are…  23% of you believed that I should leave the photo as it was, an astounding 77% believed it was best after editing

23% as is                                                 77% with edit

A special thanks to everyone that participated, and the updated post can be seen by clicking RIGHT HERE

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Nu’uanu Pali State Park O’ahu Hawaii

Creeping down the breezeway of the Old Pali Highway wind blows so strong it’s a wonder we were able to keep our feet, long powerful gusts strong enough to postpone the fear that you and the pavement will some day meet.

Pali Lookout

From the Koolau Mountain Range through the tropical forests to where the rocks turn to sand, the peaks of volcanic masses shaped by the earth stretch their stony fingers towards the heavens to shelter the land from the building pressures of the wind as it sweeps across the feral expanses of the fracturing ocean to throws its treacherous blows.

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Sometimes you want it, sometimes you need it, and sometimes you just plain gotta have it.

Hawaii gets to me, living in a place were you can only drive for so long before you end up right back were you started drives me crazy. Not to mention the dirt is the wrong color, the apples at the supermarket suck and don’t they know that beaches are supposed to be cold, gray and completely deserted short of the occasional surfer, dog walker and van full of stoner kids?

I miss the rain, and the fog, I miss waking up in the morning and having to muster up the strength to leave the warmth of the covers long enough to stoke the fire. I miss acres and acres of natural forests filled with tall trees, and the kind of lush greenery that thrives on a climate of cold wet winters and hot dry summers. I miss honey bees, and butterflies, the way the babbling of a creek in the distance can melt into the peaceful sounds of serene silence, and I miss my dogs.

photo by Castlelyn Carmona

I even miss the things I never liked in the first place… like seagulls. Now I’d say I hate seagulls, but hate is such a strong word so I’ll go with dislike, I very strongly dislike seagulls they’re like the rats of the sky, pesky, loud, always begging for bits of food, then blemishing your vehicle ungratefully whether you feed them or not, but somehow lately I even find myself wondering… where are the seagulls?

for me island fever is like finding a small splinter in the tip of my finger when there are no tweezers to be found. Without a quick fix I just try to ignore it hoping in the back of my mind that it will be purged by the natural functions of my body… a naïve short lived hope at the very least. When I wake up the next morning it’s been momentarily forgotten, I get out of bed and head for the shower. Still groggy I reach for the tap and… F*CK! I look to my hand and there it is right where I left it, but now it’s not only a little splinter, but it’s a little splinter on a finger that is throbbing and red with infection. I head to the medicine cabinet for a band-aid and some ointment, but there’s nothing to be found, no band-aids, no rubbing alcohol, and still no tweezers. So I give in, I turn off the tap, throw on some clothes and head downstairs to where my laptop is perched precariously on the edge of the couch. I sit myself down and arrange it on my lap as I let out a reluctant sigh of shrewd acceptance. I flip open the screen, and head for my favorite travel site, I type date a few days from now, and wait for the ridiculously expensive numbers to appear so that I can laugh at myself suck the splinter from my thumb, and move on with my life, but they never come the only numbers that grace my screen are reasonable… really really reasonable.

One phone call and a 500 dollar credit card purchase later the throbbing in my finger has stopped, and I’m on my way to a whole Humboldt full of metaphorical antiseptic.

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