Fire Truck Museum

Today we went to the LAFD Historical Society museum in Hollywood, aka The Fire Truck Museum. If your kid is into fire trucks, this is a great place to visit. The museum is located in Old Fire Station 27 which was built in the 1930’s and for many years was the largest fire station west of the Mississippi. Inside you’ll find antique fire trucks, ambulances, hoses, etc. They even had some of those big nets for catching people with the red bull’s-eye in the middle; apparently they don’t only exist in cartoons.

The first floor has all of the big trucks and equipment, along with a display of miniature fire trucks behind glass. Sadly, the kids are not allowed to climb on the trucks. Upstairs there are more exhibits and a large room with toy fire trucks and dress up uniforms for the kids to play with. Baby M and his good friend Baby F killed about 2 hours running around the museum and playing with the toys. It’s worth noting that there were only 3 or 4 trucks in the play area, possibly a problem if more than a few kids show up. Today it was just us and one other child, and, oddly enough, the Daughters of the American Revolution, who were using the upstairs meeting room. The museum staff, mostly made up of retired firemen, was very friendly and gave the kids free plastic fire hats to take home with them. And as a bonus for us moms, there are also active firemen hanging around which is nice if you get tired of looking at trucks and ladders.

The museum is open Saturdays only from 10am – 4pm and is free, although a $5 donation per adult is requested. I found free street parking less than a block away without too much trouble and there were plenty of metered spots available as well.

Let sleeping babies lie?

Lately Baby M is not a big fan of the car seat. Getting him into the seat takes a lot of convincing, cajoling and the occasional threat of police intervention. Earlier this week I was parked next to the library in the midst of tense car seat negotiations when an SUV pulled up behind me. I didn't pay much attention to it and 15 minutes later, after finally getting Baby M buckled in, I got out of back seat walked around to the car driver's side. I happened to look up at the Escape parked behind me and saw 2 sleeping babies, probably around a year old in the backseat. I froze. What should I do? Yes, the windows were cracked and the kids seemed fine, but it was a warm day and and the car wasn't shaded. And, besides hasn't everyone heard a tragic story about a baby being left in car? Who does that?

Okay, actually I do that, but under very controlled circumstances. I leave my sleeping kid in the car parked on my shaded back patio with all the windows open, behind a locked gate and guard dog. I stay nearby and I don't do it when it's hot out. There it is, my true mom confession.

Now aside from worrying about confronting a possibly ornery father there was also the fact that I had just gotten Baby M into his car seat. Taking him back out and then putting him in again would delay us a minimum of 30 minutes. And leaving him strapped in while I ran into the library to complain about someone else's baby locked in a car seemed a bit too hypocritical. So I decided to wait 5 minutes and see if the man returned.

Now I totally get the urge to leave your sleeping kid in the car and I'm sure the prospect of rousing 2 sleeping toddlers for what should be a 5 minute errand seems ridiculous. That's why since becoming a parent I've become a big fan of the drive-through. Drive-through restaurants, drive-through coffee, drive-through drug stores. Now if only there was a drive-through supermarket, a drive-through Target and a drive-through library I would be all set. But when there is no drive-through you can't just leave your kids in the car. A five minute errand can easily become a 20 or 30 minute ordeal. Which is what seemed to have happened in this case.

After 5 minutes and still no dad, I got out of the car. I looked around and resigned myself to taking Baby M out and initiating a potentially ugly confrontation. Then, to my relief, a older couple walked by. I explained the situation and asked if they would mind having the library page the father. They readily agreed. I was still worried about an unpleasant encounter with the dad, so I got in my car and started circling the block. Two loops later the father appeared with his books and got in the car and drove away.

I still wonder if I should have handled it differently. Maybe I should have just waited around, keeping an eye on the kids as a show of compassion for a busy parent. Maybe I should expressed my concerns to the father directly, letting him know I understood his predicament, but that he was really endangering his kids, instead of wimping out and letting someone else do the dirty work. Maybe I should have called the police and taught him a lesson. I don't know. What would you have done?

The Snowman

Baby M is a big fan of snowmen. In particular, Frosty the Snowman. Two months after Christmas we still sing the song daily and read the story several times a week. Baby M reminisces about watching the animated Frosty special with his grandparents, saying "We only listened to Frosty; there was no pictures." (Grandparents were babysitting and couldn't figure out to work our TV. Amazingly, Baby M listened to the entire 30 minute show while watching a blank screen. Luckily we Tivo'd it and he got to watch it again with sound and picture.) Every so often he says "Frosty the Snowman is a mailman" and then laughs like a loon. This is a joke that my in-laws taught him. Don't ask me. I don't get it. The point is, thinking, talking and singing about snowmen take up a fair amount of Baby M's time.

So when we traveled up to Big Bear this past weekend we were really looking forward to building a snowman with him. On the way up the mountain my husband and I quizzed Baby M: "How do you build a snowman?" Baby M replied matter-of-factly, "You need snow feet and you need to buy snow ears and get a carrot nose." Then for clarification he added, "Frosty has a button nose."

We met up with our friends and their 2 kids at our rented cabin and spent an hour or so building a 4 foot tall snowman. The snow was a bit icy so it wasn't an easy task, and I kept lobbying for a 2 foot tall snowman, but to no avail. My husband was insistent that the snowman be at least as tall as a Kindergartener. He and the kids soldiered on and eventually they created a pretty impressive snowman. Baby M, however, was disappointed. "He doesn't talk," he stated flatly. I tried to explain to him that Frosty had a magic hat and that's why he could talk, but Baby M just looked at me and said, "No Mommy, he's just pretend." So much for childhood fantasy.

Later that afternoon some more friends came up to visit with their 3 kids who proceeded knock the head off the snowman and then punch and kick him until he was just a sad little snow pile. Baby M didn't seem to mind and with 6 kids under 6 running around none of the parents said much about it either. But my poor husband was crushed. As we drove down the mountain he sadly wondered why everyone stood by and allowed a pack of boys to destroy the lovingly built snowman. Why didn't anyone apologize? Don't kids today have any respect? He would have sounded like a grumpy old man except for the fact that he was sincerely heartbroken over it. Poor guy. I guess sometimes neither snowmen nor Daddies get any respect.

Star Eco Station

I'd been hearing about something called the Star Eco Station in Culver City for about a year, but I never quite understood what it was. I knew it had tours and reptiles and was somewhere along Jefferson Blvd, but that was about the extent of my knowledge. So today Baby M and I decided to find out what the Star Eco Station is all about. (One of Baby M's catchphrases lately is "What's this all about?" It is applied to everything from books to breakfast cereal.)

The Star Eco Station provides rescue and rehabilitation for illegal, abandoned or abused exotic wildlife. You know when you hear about a trucker who kept a bobcat in his cab for years, feeding it nothing but bologna and hot dogs? That cheetah ends up at Star Eco Station, along with abandoned cockatoos, iguanas, boa constrictors, etc. Visitors can tour the center learn about the animals and view them up close. The Star Eco Station also works with the community and local schools to do environmental outreach and education.

Baby M and I showed up for the 11:30am tour on Sunday and were the only ones there, although there were a few people ahead of us on the 11:00 tour. Our tour guide, Eden, was friendly and knowledgeable and did a good job of tailoring the tour to Baby M's level. We started off looking at fish and turtles, and then moved on to the big cats (bobcats, servals, etc), but the real highlight of the tour was the reptile room. Here Baby M was able to see geckos, iguanas, pythons, chameleons and giant dragon lizards that he mistook for dinosaurs. But even more exciting than mini dinosaurs was the fact that Eden took many of the reptiles out of the cages and allowed Baby M to pet and hold them. I never expected to see my two year old holding a boa constrictor and if I did, I certainly didn't think I'd be telling him to smile so I could snap a photo, but I did just that. Finally we moved on to the exotic bird room which was loud and smelly, though the birds were colorful and Baby M enjoyed watching volunteers feed them nuts.

Our tour lasted about 30 minutes, but I know Eden skipped or shortened stops at a few of the exhibits due to Baby M's age, which was appropriate. I could see the tour lasting about an hour for an older, engaged child. That being said, I do think it was worth taking Baby M. He was very interested in the animals, loved seeing them up close and I got some very cool pictures. Tickets are $8 for adults and $6 for kids (infants in strollers are free). I can see us coming back for the tour again in a few years and will definitely check out some of the annual Star Eco Station community events like the DinoFaire and the Creepy Crawly Creature Feature.

You're not the boss of me

Today I told Baby M, "You're not the boss of me!" Seriously. Which one of us is two again? What's even more embarrassing is that I don't think either one of us believed me when I said it. Baby M is sooo the boss of me. "Pick me up. "Put me down." "Dance with me." "Give me a snack." "No, not rice cakes." I feel like I obey every one of his commands and yet this tiny dictator is still never satisfied. This is one of those days that I'm sure I am just one ineffective parenting tactic away from my Supernanny debut.

Of course, I'm sure to Baby M it seems that I'm the tyrant. "Time to eat." "Let's get dressed." "Step away from the DVD player." However he doesn't acquiesce or respond with petulant slogans. He simply screams "No," runs away and hides behind the curtains. At least I haven't sunk to concealing myself in the draperies yet. Let's hope both of us can learn to respond a bit more maturely to requests in the next few months.