Weekend Warriors

We have been doing our best to get out of the house with both kids. Norah needs the excitement and I need to have at least one adventure a day (I use the word adventure lightly-Target counts as an adventure). I feel totally comfortable getting out with both of them-it's a sharp learning curve, I know-but I save the really fun stuff for the weekend so BVZ can partake.

On Saturday we decided to go to the zoo because Norah has been asking to go to the zoo for, oh, I don't know. A year.

I always forget that the SF Zoo kind of sucks. It's deceptively large. The grounds are nice and spacious (perfect for a kid who needs to run, run, run), but there aren't very many animals and the exhibits/habitats are pretty old school. But, it actually felt great just to walk around in the fog and Norah didn't seem to mind that the actual animals were few and far between.

I thought the giraffes were the coolest thing we saw and apparently one of only two pictures I took.

Norah ate her lunch while walking through the zoo and announced to everyone she passed "and remember, DON'T FEED THE ANIMALS" (thank you, Curious George).

There were penguins and a polar bear. Now, I know it isn't exactly hot in SF, but it seems to me that they need ice. Or snow. Or at least an air conditioner. I don't get how they survive in this climate.

Norah really wanted to see Lions and Tigers, which are now housed in the "Big Cat House"- a building where the animals are behind plexi-glass instead of out in the open like they used to be. We didn't see a single one (maybe they were napping?) and the whole place smelled like the world's most gigantic litter box.

Lou's hat kept slipping over his eyes and we felt like the world's worst parents every time we noticed it.

Norah's highlight was her bowl of dippin' dots, which might be the most vile food product on the planet. She got "rainbow" flavor, which had clearly been in the concession stand since 1992. It didn't even taste like ice cream, more like tiny balls made out of old Slurpee.

On Sunday we met up with the Breslows for a day at the beach. It was cold, rainy and foggy, which is not unusual for this time of year, so we assumed it would burn off. We made our way over the hill and about 10 minutes from our destination Norah announced that her stomach hurt. Typically this means she has to poop. I asked if she had to poop and she said yes. I drove a little faster and all was well until she yelled, "Mom, it really, REALLY hurts!" and then she proceeded to barf.all.over.the.place. All over her shirt and pants and car seat and floor mat and back of my seat. What is it with my luck and barf lately? Thankfully I had a change of clothes for her because I figured she would get wet and dirty at the beach (typically I don't carry a spare set) and we stopped at a gas station to get her cleaned up and hosed off.

She was totally fine after the explosion, which led me to believe she just got a little car sick.

The weather was decidedly NOT better and we considered packing it in, but 1) we had just paid $10 to park, and 2) both Caleb and Norah really, really wanted to play in the sand. So we threw caution to the wind (literally) and set up camp.

Norah was very much into the sand.

BVZ was into the trail mix.

Caleb and Lucas were into their mom. They were the smart ones who realized that the beach is not fun when the weather sucks.

We stayed about an hour and then headed back to our house for grilled cheese sandwiches. And no more barfing.