Page Museum and La Brea Tar Pits

Baby M is going through a dinosaur phase. He has dinosaurs on his pajamas, reads dinosaur books and has become obsessed with the show Dinosaur Train on PBS (combining the two universal toddler passions, trains and dinosaurs. Genius!) So, this week I decided to take him to the Page Museum and La Brea Tar Pits to see some real dinosaurs, or more accurately Ice Age mammals. This was a miscalculation on my part because Woolly Mammoths and Saber Tooth Tigers really don't have much in common with Brontosauruses, but Baby M was happy to be going to the "Dinosaur Museum" all the same.

We've visited Hancock Park and run around the tar pits plenty of times, but had never ventured into the Page Museum. I paid the $7 entrance fee (Baby M, being under 5 was free) and we wandered around looking at the giant skeletons, the animatronic mammoth and the wall of wolf skulls. Most of the exhibits were too complicated for Baby M, but he liked running around shouting "Mommy, look at that!" He also enjoyed walking through the atrium and watching the turtles.

Then we decided to check out the 10 minute movie "Treasures of the La Brea Tar Pits." This was another miscalculation on my part. Most of the film is animated, but it shows, in detail, exactly how all those animals got stuck in the tar pits. A panicked horse, stuck in the tar pit, is pounced upon by a snarling Saber Tooth Tiger. The tiger is soon joined by a pack of wolves, all feasting on the struggling horse. There may have been squirting blood. I can't remember, but it was definitely more violent than I was comfortable with. A few of the predators fall in the pit and the scene ends with their carcasses being picked over by vultures. Baby M seemed more confused than disturbed. "What happened to the horse, Mommy?" he kept asking through the remainder of the movie. Even once we were outside strolling past the tar pits he kept looking for that horse. After repeated explanations from me he finally concluded "the horse got stuck in the water pit," which he reported somberly to his father later that evening. Hopefully he is not scarred for life.

Holiday Dilemma

Once you get married holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas get a little more complicated. For the past 9 years my husband and I have had a predictable system in place for how we spend the Christmas holidays. Odd years with his family, even years with mine. Luckily both of our parents live within a couple of hours of Los Angeles (in opposite directions) so we always get a chance to see both families sometime between Christmas and New Year's Day. The system really just governs where we are on the actual 25th. And when I say the 25th, that also includes the 24th and usually the 26th as well. After Baby M was born we kept the system in place and now each set of grandparents has had the baby over once on Christmas.

Up until now we have not had a Christmas Tree or much at all in the way of holiday decorations. This is partly because we are never home on Christmas, partly because there is really no good place to put a tree in our small house and partly because I am just plain lazy. But now that Baby M is getting older I am starting to feel the urge to put up a tree, bake some cookies and hang stockings. And I want to start our own Christmas Eve and Christmas morning traditions, at our house with our family, ie. the three of us. Keep in mind, I still plan on getting to the grandparent's house by Christmas afternoon and staying over for a few nights. They will absolutely have the chance to shower Baby M with presents and stuff him full of sweets.

My husband, however, thinks this idea is selfish and will offend his parents. And I have to agree, it very well might offend his parents. I think they already wonder why we don't spend more time with them. And maybe it is selfish. I do want my husband and my baby all to myself, to cuddle, to tell stories, to hang stockings and make memories. I want to be the one who tells Baby M that he has to go back to bed if he wants Santa to come and I want to be the first one he wakes up on Christmas morning. And, though it is un-Christmas-like, I don't want to share it. To a certain extent I feel like our parents had their chance to play Santa and now its our turn.

My husband argues that there is no reason we can't establish traditions that involve the grandparents, that we are lucky to have them nearby, that they won't be around forever, that we have "family time" 7 days a week. He says just because I treasure my childhood memories of waking up Christmas morning at my house with my brother and parents doesn't mean that Baby M won't have just as happy memories of waking up at Grandma's house. All good points. My husband is an engineer, frustratingly logical and difficult to argue with.

And so here we are, a few weeks from December and we are still no closer to reaching an agreement. I suppose we could wait another year, my parents already assume that we won't be spending Christmas Eve with them, but then there will be the fact that Baby M spent 2 Christmases with the other set of grandparents and only 1 with them. And that is the kind of thing that might very well offend my parents.

And so, I am reaching out to you, blogosphere, any suggestions? Perhaps someone has a brilliant solution that we haven't thought of. Or maybe you'll say stop worrying about offending your parents and grow up already. Or you could say stop being a greedy Scrooge and let your parents enjoy their grandchild. I'm ready to hear it all. Lay it on me.

Backseat Baby Driver

Last week I was driving my husband and Baby M over to visit a friend who recently gave birth to her second child. We were running late and I was a bit frustrated with my husband, technically the cause of our delay, although he really had no control over the situation. Anyway, a few blocks from our destination I rounded a bend and my husband cried out, "You're driving too fast." Now, I was driving under the speed limit. Was I driving too fast considering he had a steaming hot pan of ratatouille on his lap? Perhaps. But now, whenever I am in the car with Baby M what do I hear? "Mommy, you're driving too fast." Just what I need, a back seat baby driver.