January 17, 2023
A compilation of thoughts about travel from 2021-2022
I was not at all in the mood to travel while COVID continues to mutate alongside the plethora of flus, RSV, colds, random upper respiratory things, and various other contagious diseases. Especially not after weeks and weeks of just keeping nose above water. Once upon a time I loved flying but these days? Home, thank you very much, I’m very happy at home. Alas, even I had to venture forth to fulfill obligations. Add masks and Lysol wipes, take away indoor dining, take away casual attitudes about what you touch and who you share your air with on the road, and add a whole lot of medication for the slew of germs the kids brought with them.
On the road: I thought it was overkill to bring our own seat protectors but we had to make some stops at REALLY gross rest stops and they were very much needed.
Flying with kids: take away sleep and watching movies mindlessly, and replace them with your child (or both) imitating an R.O.U.S.
Things I forgot: my airline specific credit card for a discount on in flight purchases. Drat. Our filter replacements for our flo masks. To pre-order fresh food trays before we flew (overpriced yes but a convenience because our carry-ons were already jammed full of other things and we couldn’t fit another food item).
Things I remembered: all the electronics cables and plugs. Most of the medications we needed. I wish I’d packed all of them; that was a conscious and wrong choice to leave some behind. Treats for our flight attendants for both flights. Activities for the kids for long confined sitting periods but not enough for many hours upon hours (I don’t think it’s humanly possible to carry enough to entertain small / younger kids for that long on a flight). Plastic reusable water bottles along with our heavy insulated bottles, those came in handy for the flight portion of our travel. Mini hand sanitizers that fit into pockets and small shoulder bags.
There are some people out there who are real jerks about families flying with upset children. Exhibit A: As if we enjoy flying with screaming children and we are in fact doing it AT you. Honestly. Some people really don’t know how to exist in society or a community with others. This is why I dread flights with other people. You never know which one is going to be a flagrant asshole about your small human being a small human. As if it’s not hard enough. 
We did get lucky a few times. I profusely thanked our seatmates for being such good sports about the kids. One of them let Smol Acrobat fall asleep holding their finger, unbeknownst to us at the time. They told us later with a laugh that it was cute. In an unwanted restaurant experience where Smol Acrobat was a screech owlet, our table neighbors were incredibly sweet about their ups and downs and joked with them. On a mini train ride, they met a dad with his three older kids who was goofier than Goofy and did little dances to entertain them, offered fistbumps, and even took a picture with them. It was almost like traveling with baby JB again who would play with EVERYONE they saw, whereas Smol Acrobat tends to be a frozen statue staring at the new person in confusion or horror. JB was too busy doing bigger kid things to interact with strangers.
Time zones. I had forgotten how horrible it is to have young kids cross time zones. Up at 11, up at 2, up at 4, up for good at 5 am local time. AUGH. Toilets and landlines and under-4 year olds. The constant “no, no, leave that alone!” battle. I remembered to unplug the hotel room phone just like we used to do with JB so they could walk around the room with a handset to their ear babbling away to their invisible friends.
JB at Smol’s current age was a good traveler in liking all the adventures, wanting to follow wherever we went although they of COURSE went on their own little side quests frequently and Smol is no different in that respect. But JB would eat everything, and be up for more. Sleep badly but was generally happy when they were up. They could more easily co-sleep. It wasn’t EASY traveling with JB, my memory isn’t THAT bad. I guess it’s also fair to say that it was simply easier because we only had the one kid to juggle, and not two. But please be honest, I cannot be the only parent who hates traveling with young kids, can I?
We were dragged to a formal dinner thing (long story) that we left as soon as we could because Smol Acrobat is an unruly squirrel and the dining option was totally age inappropriate. We weren’t paying the bill but we found our server and tipped her $30 cash personally just because she made a shitty situation for us manageable in lots of small ways that she didn’t have to do.
August 23, 2017
My reply to Harmony’s question (What scares you the most about being a parent?) turned into a post. Of course it did! There’s so much about parenting, the inherent responsibilities, and to some degree helplessness, that I worry about.
As the good kid who took few risks, I worry about holding my JuggerBaby back by thought or attitude, but also I worry so much about zir safety in this world. It’s gotten meaner and colder in many ways since I was a kid, though I know for a fact that there are a lot of wonderful, amazing, supportive people out there too.
The best thing I feel like I can do in a situation where I have no control is to make sure ze knows that ze can talk to me about anything no matter what, and that there’s always another sensible adult who has tried silly, stupid, risky, or scary things and grown up to gain some wisdom from it to ask if ze doesn’t want to ask me.
I hope that ze will take acceptable risks and live the best of zir life, and have enough pain to build character but so much pain that it leaves indelible scars.
I hope that ze learns that there are people in the world who are terrible, awful, horrible humans and it’s ok to call evil by its name – like the neo-Nazis in Charlottesville. That there are people who will manipulate you six ways to Sunday for their own personal gain or amusement – like my sibling. That there are people so entirely selfish, and such utter blowhards, that the harm they do to you is just collateral damage in their eyes – like my mom’s siblings. But I hope there’s a way for zir to learn these things without having to be exposed to them daily like I was.
I’m scared that of all the things we try to teach JuggerBaby, the lessons won’t be heard and ze will turn out to be someone we don’t recognize or even like, like my sibling did.
I worry that I won’t be here for JuggerBaby the way ze needs, for all of zir life. I worry that if I do end up crippled in ten more years, ze won’t be able to see the example I’ve always tried to set for zir – work hard, work smart, advocate for yourself, advocate for those who can’t speak up for themselves without being harmed for doing so, leave the place at least a little better for your having been there. I believe in showing, not just telling, when it comes to real life values.
Financially, I don’t want zir to experience the same pains that I did but I have no interest in shielding zir from even most of life’s bumps – it would be far worse in my eyes to cushion zir every fall and end up with an adult who still needs zir mama to do all the accounting to make sure ze has money at the end of the month. Ze has got to make bad choices and mistakes early enough so that ze has time to learn from them and recover, my competence with money can’t be the reason ze doesn’t understand why ze should not carry a credit card balance in zir college years.
We can’t be the parents who sheltered JuggerBaby so much that ze has no idea how much grit ze has.
I have to take comfort in the fact that I got this far in life being me, which wasn’t always a good thing, and yet somehow nurtured enough loving friendships to feel supported and to know JuggerBaby is well loved even if most of my family is too toxic to allow in our lives. I’ve had to come a long way to be a good enough person that I’ve not been embarrassed to look in the mirror, and I know that JB has to take zir own journey to become a compassionate, caring, canny, strong and generous person. At least I hope that’s the goal.
And in today’s world, I hope that the worry about nuclear war doesn’t come to pass, and that humanity will stop trying to completely destroy itself whether by allowing the rise of facism and Nazis in America, or because we’ve bombed ourselves out of existence. Our kid’s generation should be better than we were, not worse.
It might also be a good idea for me to stop watching cop shows. Law & Order alone has given me more nightmares than I care to think about.
:: What do you worry about for the next generation? What did your parents worry about for you?
January 11, 2017
The cast is off! JuggerBaby seems to have healed up quite well, and aside from some minor anxiety about going to the doctor at all, isn’t the worse for wear after zir ordeal.
The day of judgment came a lot faster than we expected but I’m sure that was because each day after Day 1 of Cast Days was full of accommodations and learning how to do new and/or odd things.
Things we learned
Getting dressed was a weird amalgamation of summer clothes topped with a pom pom hat and puffer vest. Odd-looking, but it did the job. They just need to be safe and warm (or cool) as the weather might call for.
We were told that a sponge bath was perfectly fine for a toddler but they’ve never met a child as willing and able to become perfectly filthy in the course of a normal day as JuggerBaby. Besides, we’re softies – bathtime is zir favorite time, it didn’t seem like too much to ask to wrap it tightly in a towel, then wrap it with a plastic bag, then tie it off with a tight but not too tight rubber band so that ze could enjoy 15 minutes of Splash Zone every night.
We learned how to hold zir still for x-rays: gentle coaxing to imitate our hand placement, stickers to look at while positioning hands, reminding zir that it’s just a special kind of picture. It helps that ze and PiC have a habit of taking pictures together everywhere they go.
The post-cast limb smells TERRIBLE. It was awful, I nearly went overboard swabbing zir arm with alcohol swabs to remove the stench. The cast technician reminded me that the skin was still delicate before I gave zir another problem to heal from. Whew. Also the cast removal was full of bawling and screaming but it was physically painless for zir, and relatively fast.
Kaiser Pediatric is awesome about getting kids in and out of their appointments quickly and smoothly, they have an abundance of bribery stickers, and what could have been a much more painful experience was made as easy as possible. I’ve never been so happy to have an HMO.
Random people are full of sympathy for a kid with a cast on. They stop and tell you funny stories about the foul things they did when they had a cast, and commiserate with the child who fails to milk the sympathy situation.
:: Have you ever broken a limb or had a cast? What’s the worst injury you’ve had to deal with (either yourself or someone you cared for)?
December 14, 2016
JuggerBaby has been transformed partly into the Unstoppable JuggerBaby with the addition of a cast. It’s a club that’s bashed about with great vigor, never mind who gets in the way. It’s made zir approximately 15% more reckless. It’d be worse but ze hasn’t discovered the extent to which ze can take advantage yet. Cross your fingers that ze doesn’t catch on before it comes off.
We just hope that amid all zir fun, ze is also healing up well.
The really annoying thing is that ze has been congested for about two months now, and so have I, and I don’t know what it’ll take to kick this dratted thing. Ze is taking Zarbee’s for the resulting cough because there’s nothing you can really safely give a kid zir age, but it’s not that effective. We still have reports from daycare that ze is coughing a lot during zir naps, and every night, it wrenches my heart to hear the hacking cough issuing from zir crib.
Since the cold set in, I’ve been doing remarkably well. I was pretty sure I’d adjusted to San Francisco type weather. Then I wasn’t. This Sunday’s temps were exactly the same as they had been for the last two weeks but this chill went straight to my bones, then from there zapped my muscles so that nothing from neck to toe didn’t ache. Literally down to my very toes and the tiny bones in there – ache ache ache ACHE.
It was a point of pride that I’d only had to bundle up to endure the ever-so-frigid days and nights that drop as low as (horror! gasp!) the 40s and 50s. I know, I know. But look, I’m from the tropics, genetically, this is unnatural for my people. I’d adjusted mostly but my fibro gets eccentric at times. All this wind-up means we had to run the heater for more than ten minutes. We had taken to running it for a little while to take the chill off since JuggerBaby can’t wear sleeves, and then leaving it off for the night, and it makes me grumpy to know that we had to run it longer just so that I could feel mostly human again. I know it’s not a big deal really in the grand scheme of things but there’s that knee-jerk frugal reaction of no! don’t waste money like that!
Meanwhile, PiC’s got a thing going on with his back, and his vision (unrelated). I’m hoping that it’s nothing serious, although I think it’s safer to say I hope it’s something that will resolve itself and go far far away soon, because we have trouble enough on our hands. Also he’s not used to being in pain for prolonged periods of time and it makes him grumpy.
Under the mental health column, I hit a glacier of Zen this month. Lots of things could irritate me but with the exception of one Friday, it hasn’t bothered me enough to even shout at the computer. That’s new. Also it’s appreciated by Seamus who is not at all convinced by my “it’s not you” reassurances. He’s a smart dog but I don’t think he quite grasps how the box I stare at all day could be getting itself in trouble.
I don’t know if the weird calm comes from having maxed out my stress receptors after November, or maybe I have gone numb from the three month long series of working more than twice my usual hours, but it’s kind of nice. Bizarre, but nice.
:: How long can you go before you have to run the heater when winter sets in? How’s everyone doing at home?
October 31, 2016
This was one of my annual goals for 2016.
We’ve been setting aside money for JuggerBaby’s care and education since 2014 but I hadn’t committed to a specific savings vehicle outside of our savings account. I wasn’t ready to think about it in the first half of the year because the first half of the year totally sucked but I finally started getting stuff done in the fall, including picking and funding a 529 plan. (That felt GREAT.)
I finally sat down to do some more research after my first halfhearted attempt last fall.
California’s 529 plan, the ScholarShare College Savings Plan, was the logical first place to start.
They allow earnings grow income-tax deferred, and the money is also free from federal income tax when it’s used to pay for qualified higher education expenses, but all the plans do. What they don’t offer are any tax incentives to keep the money in the state, and they hold their funds in TIAA-CREF which I don’t much like, so I went looking elsewhere.
Since any other state’s tax incentives do me no good as a California resident, I just targeted companies that I like: Fidelity and Vanguard.
Nevada’s Trust is administered by the Board of Trustees of the College Savings Plans of Nevada, and the plans themselves are held in the Vanguard 529 College Savings Plan with 3 age-based plans and 19 other choices. I don’t much care about the 19 other choices at this point, the money just needs to go into an aggressive investing mix right now, so the age based plans are what I care about.
Vanguard works with UGift which means that anyone who wants to contribute can just enter the code that I give them and quickly set up a bank transfer without any confidential information changing hands. I don’t want your bank information and you’re not getting JuggerBaby’s SSN, period. That’s non-negotiable.
Sidebar: some thought was given to whether it made sense to hold a plan in our names or in the gifter’s name, based on the concern that when assets are considered for college funding, assets in our or JuggerBaby’s names are counted as primary assets.
Our assets at this point in time wouldn’t disqualify JuggerBaby entirely from receiving grants, but in 17 years? If I’m doing my job, and I will, then our total assets would be sufficient that JB wouldn’t qualify for any need-based aid. If either one of us is gone, we’d have life insurance to supply some of the contributions. And frankly, one of the selling points for people planning to open 529 plans in their names instead of the beneficiaries is that they can change the beneficiary at any time. I’m not banking on JB’s future with assets in someone else’s name. I’m not saying a gifter would take back the money, but as long as that money isn’t in zir or our names, then it’s not really ours, is it?
That brings us back to the technicality that if you want to open a 529 plan in someone’s name, you need their SSN. And with the amount of identity theft and fraud out there, I’m not taking that risk in any way shape or form. JB’s SSN stays with us and whatever financial institution that I enter it into when I’ve vetted them, that’s it. I’m not widening that net of risk.
Ok, back to the program. Fidelity administers New Hampshire, Arizona, Delaware, and Massachussetts’ plans, and also has a good secure way for people to gift to the beneficiary.
PiC and I both have enough assets at both Fidelity and Vanguard to be a little more than your run of the mill investors and so we have some advantages at both, but what it came down to were the fees. Vanguard charges 0.19% on their age-based portfolios. Fidelity charges two sets of fees: a program management fee, plus investment management fees and other expenses in each of the mutual funds. It’s different for each of the four states and is a mess to figure out. But they start at 0.88%.
That’s pretty much no contest!
Vanguard, as ever, is my friend and so I’m moving cash to JuggerBaby’s account there to let it flourish and grow. But I’ll wait until after October to add more money to it, since it’s been a rather rough period in the markets.
Now we just have to get on with raising a kid, making sure ze wants to attend college, and is adequately prepared to make the most of it. I paid my own way through college but the days of being able to do that on your own are probably limited with all the rising costs of school and living.
I don’t want zir to get a free ride through life, far from it, but I don’t want zir to be crippled by the burden of many student loans if it can be avoided. At the same time, it’s possible that ze will have good reason not to want to attend college for one reason or another. If that’s the case, I’d need to consider how we might redirect these funds.
:: How did you pay for college? If you have kids or niblings, are you saving for their possible future education? How would you spend $50,000 in educational funds?
February 24, 2016
I know you were all dying to know what we do with LB all day.
once mobility was achieved, productivity took a nosedive.
Over several months, we’ve tried nannies, sitters, and daycare. Some were ok, some were most decidedly not.
We haven’t tried in-home daycare yet, we’re considering a few, but I’ve gotta tell ya, none of them have felt quite right. The smaller size overall seems like a good thing, especially during this period when every possible disease is being shared across several different age groups. Truly, I didn’t expect this ambivalence to apply to everyone, our hope was we’d find the right place and it’d feel right. But the closest we’ve gotten is the brand-name daycare.
What we like about it
LB loves it. I’m not talking about any low level of interest or joy, here, it’s an intense level of happiness. Ze was all about this place: new toys? YES. new infant sized furniture? YES. new people? YES! The first day was the total opposite of what we braced for: instead of a scared, nervous or even indifferent child, LB went all in. Pulled up a seat at the table, sat down and helped hirself to some food, grinning at a brand new carer like they were best friends. (IN YOUR FACE, well meaning but totally annoying father who lectured me about separation anxiety.)
Subsequent drop-offs were the same for weeks: a mad cackle and dash-crawl to hir brand new teachers, or pull up a chair at the snack bar and never leave. Ze would see me at pick-up, and go right back to playing with hir carer because Mom, it’s bubbles time, just hang on, ok? Again, nothing like the picture of separation anxiety I’d slightly dreaded.
The carers seem to be fond of hir, despite hir well known defiance and horrible diaper changing etiquette.
PiC is the designated primary person to contact and they always try to contact him first. Any time they call me, they apologize and explain that they did try him first but couldn’t reach him.
What’s not awesome
The place is a damn viral incubator. It’s to be expected that kids will share germs but because this is a larger facility, there are that many more multiples of infectious disease vectors. You guys. SO MANY GERMS.
Ze has been sick at least half hir enrolled time, and sick enough to be sent home. Which means we’re paying a full month’s fees for half a month’s care, plus taking time away from work to care for LB myself. Well, both of us. PiC and I have started splitting the sick days. The first couple of times, I just took care of hir myself because we were frazzled by the surprise at-home days and it was easiest for me to just be home with hir.
We settled into a better routine once we got a handle on it. He does pick-up and drop-off, and I cover the mornings so he can work, and he comes home early to take over in the afternoon so I can work.
They don’t provide meals so I have to pack a lunch for school days. We split that too: I do lunches and he does bottles. It’s one more task for our evening routine, and I don’t love having to remember yet another thing.
$$$$: It’s really expensive. It’s been budgeted for since before ze was born but MAN it’s still a lot of money.
Status: Holding pattern
We have regular email updates from the daycare center but PiC also reports back. His latest update left me feeling a little less enamoured with hir current group. (We’ve nicknamed all the kids for their anonymity.)
***
PiC: Patient Zero’s transferred to a different group now, so it just leaves a handful of the older kids. LB loved watching the infants but I get the feeling that they need lots of staff time so the older kids aren’t getting much attention anymore. They’re kind of just left to entertain themselves.
Me: Who’s left?
PiC: Bruiser isn’t always the first and last kid there anymore, but he still always looks like he’s on the verge of tears.
Me: Bruiser’s so cute. But so sad. And looks like the model for Hitler’s Youth: perfect blonde, blue eyes, built like a tank.
PiC: Yeah, he looks like he has a destiny. He has an older brother.
Me: Mega-Bruiser?
PiC: I think Bruiser could take his brother.
Me: Cruiser, then.
PiC: Yeah. Precious Moments Puppy is still there. Also always looks on the verge of tears but I think he’s just channeling the atmosphere. It’s a shame that Vale of Tears isn’t there anymore.
Me: Why? She cried all the time. She made LB sympathy cry. She was the saddest of them all.
PiC: Yeah but she was like the walking emotional outlet for the entire group. She was The Giver, feeling all the feelings, so the rest of them could be happy.
Me: That’s true. Also messed up. Also it sounds like they’ve turned into the room of infinite sadness.
PiC: Sort of, yeah. It makes me feel like there’s pressure on LB. Whenever ze’s sick, they’re like, “Where’s our LB? Ze is so quiet and detached!” And I’m like, shit, lady, LB can’t carry the happiness for a whole group! That’s so much pressure!
Me: I dunno. Builds character.
***
We’re looking into other daycare options, mainly because of the cost, but now also in case the group composition changes so much that LB isn’t having the time of hir life anymore. We have totally reasonable standards, yes.
The thing is, I’m not comfortable with the in-home set-ups that I’ve seen so far. They *sound* nice, some are bilingual, they’re all much smaller and theoretically more hands on. But I’m just not comfortable with the feeling that there’s not as much accountability.
Facilities have standard regulations and background checks they’re expected to present, whereas the in-home daycares where I don’t know anyone and don’t necessarily do those things makes me nervous. Particularly in the case of more family-style care groups – how do I just trust that no one in the family is a predator? How do I trust that if they do harm LB in ways that aren’t immediately obvious, they won’t just cover it up? It’s not that I think larger facilities are infallible, but there are more controls in place, and I don’t feel awkward saying: do you have background checks for all employees?
I’m not sure what the answer is yet, but this has worked for now. We may just suck it up and keep paying the price for the peace of mind. Well, we will for now while we keep looking.
November 19, 2012
As a general rule, I avoid going into the city. No offense to the city of San Francisco, although I do hate driving in or having to find parking there because let’s face it – Market Street mixed among other wackadoodle streets and city parking are the pits, but this homebody is far too easily fatigued and thus unmotivated so can easily push off any single errand to SF until there are at least several things to do or someone’s come to town.
We had such a confluence this weekend with mutual friends in town so PiC and I had a bit of a lark. With nearly 12 hours of sleep under my belt, I had my fingers crossed I’d make it all the way into the evening. Â We had one errand each, and then an open-ended “we’ll meet with you for ….. ”
We had Clipper cards with varying amounts of money on it for travel, but his card required an agent to work some kinda something on it to make it work again.
My travel: Free.
His travel: $3.55, no agent at the booth and I’d accidentally left behind my backup Clipper card in case his didn’t work. Whoops.
It was a surprisingly long two-thirds mile trek through groddy-town to get to Hayes Valley. Disturbed flocks of pigeons there, along with all the smells of back alleys, discovered a freeway entrance where one didn’t seem to belong and then found ourselves suddenly in an utterly too-nice nice neighborhood. I guess this is how gentrification works/worked in San Francisco?
My errand: his belated birthday gift, a secret thing, a coffee, $42
Back again, through the puddles and the pigeons, and ponderings if we should just walk all the way to Union Square. Pondered all the way right back onto Bart. Hopped on, hopped off.
Meandered up and out, moved as part of the crowd up the way toward Powell, toward, Geary, toward Post, toward all the major landmarks of the Square. H&M (one of three), a new Uni-Glo, Bloomingdales looming(dales), Macy’s. Â The tree was up, the ice rink was out and holiday crowds were out in force. Oddly, I was ok with this.
His errand: a shirt, value, $80. Free with coupon.
Unscheduled stop, H&M: poke and pruned until we find a blouse, $30.44, with 20% off coupon. Still a little steep given my ambivalence (oh and I forgot to try it on), and btw, I was stung by the 10 cent bag fee, thanks a lot, forgetfulness!
I was chilled, nibblish and shaky by 2:30. We’d only been out and about for… an hour? Yeah. Stamina, spamina. The food and sugar kept me going for another several hours so even though I rarely buy random street food like this around home or go to Starbucks, we made a beeline for the first one we saw. NOM. There’s something delicious (pun intended) about just getting what you want.
Street dog: $4.25Â
Starbucks venti Hot chocolate: $3.15, free with coupon
We settled into the Westfield for a while to wait for friends who were, in fact, much closer by than we had expected, I caught up on some Twitter and PiC snagged a free Ghiradelli square. Jealous. It was peppermint. Less jealous.
Dinner was a non-glamorous booth affair at a standard chain restaurant with children clamoring and clambering all over the place. Crayons only held their attention for as long as they could race to an ungainly win, assisted absentmindedly by one adult or another; I was starting to see how the mom was so keenly aware of the judging stares of others when they went out. Â As normal as it is for kids, and boys at any age if I remember growing up with my cousins rightly, to be unruly, attention hungry, wound up or full up with energy, these fellas were like sprung-loose jack in the boxes, wound up and loosed to wreak havoc. It took fast thinking to talk them down from, off of, out from under, apart, or back from wherever they’d gotten to and that was entirely apart from the chattering at hypersonic speed and three decibels higher than an inside voice. Oh, kids. It was entertaining until we started becoming public nuisances, then we had to start clamping down. Gently and teasingly since they’re not ours but still. No one around us was amused when they stopped up the doors.
We trekked back, exhausted, quiet and sleepy, late.
Through heavy lids, we watched my joints puff up like wee sausages on the ride back. Cute. Chasing down and hefting kiddies was fun but more than a little strenuous.
All in all, not a bad day.