California Dreamin'

Joseph wants us to move to Nevada.

"Why???" I asked. Yes, there were at least three audible question marks after the question. Nevada???

"Well, if we live in Nevada, we're only one state away from California!" he answered seriously.

This was after Josh and I making up snarky songs about Nevada all along I-80. Almost heaven, West Nevada...

I informed Joseph there is no way in Nevada that we are moving to that hell. Well, I did not word it that way to him, but seriously folks: Nevada??? It's like one big hill of sagebrush interrupted only by casinos and never-finished highways. (I-80 in Nevada is a deep, gleaming black with sharply contrasting yellow paint. Large sections of this are being torn up, seemingly at random, and rebuilt as if they have to justify all the taxes they collect from gamblers. Once we hit California, the roads were in constant disrepair. I couldn't help turning to Josh and asking, "What the...? Is this state bankrupt or something?"

All the above is my long-winded way of saying we had a great family vacation. I was so shocked/thrilled by my children's lack of complaining during the 12 hours of driving each way that I wasn't even bummed by the vomit that erupted all over the car yesterday afternoon. We just dealt with it, thanks in part to some serious serendipity involving air fresheners.

I wasn't bummed when I asked Josh ten seconds too late, "How much gas do we have left?" and realized we had less than a quarter tank right after passing the last gas station in seven billion miles. (That's one more lovely thing about that scenic stretch of I-80 between Salt Lake City and the California border.)

I wasn't even bummed when Josh developed an allergy in our hotel room in San Mateo and we had to deal with the uncertainty of where that would lead us.

I was a little bummed about the Labor Day weekend traffic in Marin County that made my internal Mommy Clock cut our trip to Muir Woods short so the kids wouldn't be up too late. Josh was even more bummed. My internal Mommy Clock is a force to be reckoned with.

I think my favorite part of the trip was realizing that bad things could happen but it didn't affect my mood. It could have made me a screaming, stressed out banshee but... well, there was only a hint of that. In general, I was just thrilled to be with four cool boys who were so incredibly chill and funny and easy to get along with.

Who would have expected that from my boys? Seriously. Raise your hand. You know what I'm saying. They're cute. They're funny. But they're also wildly energetic and loud, and that doesn't usually translate well into a good road trip. Stepping into that car was a huge leap of faith and my boys shocked me with how awesome they were. Yea!

So now for the travelogue portion of the blog entry. We drove to scenic downtown Elko Wednesday evening and stayed overnight (just to get a jump start on the next day of driving.) We stretched our legs at the Salt Flats on the way, which is a family tradition. The boys got salt on their fingers and touched it to their tongues, which didn't gross me out. Then they went into the rest stop bathrooms and Elijah decided to lick the wall. That did gross me out. Enormously.

On Thursday we drove into California and drove straight to Emeryville (via a rather frightening "detour" in scenic downtown Oakland, which is not known for being a haven of well-behaved non-criminals). In Emeryville, we got to visit a friend at Pixar and give the kids a tour. The kids have never been there with me and they were incredibly stoked. We took pictures, stared at concept art (which I could do all day), played video games and got a special treat in the form of an open door.

An open door is not very intriguing, but an open door with a sign stating emphatically, "THIS DOOR MUST REMAIN CLOSED ABSOLUTELY ALL THE TIME NO MATTER WHAT..." is vastly intriguing. Out of respect for whoever left that door open, I won't comment on what I saw. We'll just say it was concept art for something that looked completely foreign to me. Josh said he thought it was connected to Toy Story 3, so we'll see if it looks familiar when that movie is released.

After Pixar, we went with our friends for dinner at Fenton's, which is featured in Pixar's latest movie, Up. It seemed appropriate. The Bay Bridge had just closed hours before, so we missed out on the treat of going over that anxiety inducer. (Does anybody else think of the San Francisco earthquake when they see a bridge with a double-decker design like that?)

On Friday, we took the kids to the Exploratorium for four hours. I had pencilled in two hours but the kids were really enjoying themselves. Afterward, Joseph said it wasn't what he had expected and thought it was totally boring. Yeah, kid, that's why I had to drag you out kicking and screaming. Because you were so bored. The highlight for me was the nauseating demonstration of a cow eyeball being dissected. Who would have guessed it looked like that inside?

Then we went to Ghiradelli Square, ate at Lori's Diner, got ice cream at Ghiradelli, walked across the street to the beach and cursed the freezing cold, windy San Francisco weather. Then we hopped in the car and drove up to Muir Woods, which I totally missed out on because the twins both fell asleep and my Inner Mommy couldn't wake them up, even for Redwoods. Josh and Joseph went for a 30-minute hike and then that mean old Mommy Clock made us drive away into two-inch-per-hour traffic. Ugh.

On Saturday, we met up with my sister and brother-in-law for breakfast and then drove down to San Jose for a memorial service for my Uncle who died recently. He was only my Uncle for a very brief time, and it makes me hurt inside to think about it, but it is what it is. The kids had a great time with my Auntie and we had a nice afternoon at the park. Then we drove to Half Moon Bay and let the kids run and splash in the ocean for a while. The water was a totally agreeable temperature after my feet went numb.

For dinner, we went to the most amazingly delicious restaurant I've been to in a long time: BJ's Restaurant & Brewhouse. Their pizza was... well, I'm almost crying right now just thinking about it. Some food is just that good. Why do they not have any restaurants in Utah? They would be wildly popular and packed all weekend long.

On Sunday, we drove around trying to find a church for 40 minutes and then enjoyed 30 minutes of the church service. Then we packed our hotel room up, cleaned it out (sort of), packed up the car and headed to Sacramento. Here comes the bittersweet portion of the blog entry.

We drove past my Dad's childhood home, 2700 Northrop Ave. This was where we came to visit my grandparents. This was our vacation destination when I was a kid. This was where I was wrapped up in a fresh-out-of-the-dryer sort of undeniable love that I'll never forget. Then we went to the cemetery where those grandparents are buried next to their daughter who died before she was 30 years old.

But that's not the bittersweet part. The bittersweet part was visiting another grave in that cemetery, a little distance off, in the children's section of the cemetery. A little gravestone bears the name of my parents' first child, my older brother than I never knew. I knew I'd cry. Obviously. This is my brother.

When I looked at his birth date and realized I was visiting him one day before his 40th birthday, the crying was much harder to keep respectable. We didn't have flowers so we sang him the song that was sung at his funeral: "Give, Said the Little Stream." It was his favorite, and it might be an odd "over the hill" birthday sort of present, but it came from the heart.

I wish I could have seen that mature-beyond-his-years, blonde-haired, blue-eyed two-year-old become a man. We would have been throwing him a crazy big birthday party today and ribbing him about his age with black crepe paper and "RIP" napkins. The RIP bit doesn't seem as funny, now that I think about it.

The drive home was uneventful except for the vomiting that started right after we left the cemetery, the numerous potty stops and the questionable hotel arrangements in Reno. The kids were amazing and never complained at all about the drive. Or maybe they complained so much that I was traumatized and blocked it out of my memory, but I don't think so. I'm stoked to do this all over again next month for a family reunion in southern California.

So much to be grateful for. All is well, all is well.