Madonna of the Trail

(photo by WG Finely, used under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic License)


During my senior year of college I took a History/American Studies course called "The American Highway." It was basically a study of the history and cultural implications of (wait for it) the American highway, from the early days of dirt roads to the completion of the Interstate system.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I had kept nearly all of my books from college. I also mentioned that I wound up parting with most of them this summer when I finally cleared out our bookshelves. There were, however, a few that I kept.

One of those is a book I was assigned to read in my American Highway class: Uneasy Rider: The Interstate Way of Knowledge. I'll admit that I didn't read the entire book when I took the class. (I admit this with knowledge that I'm going to send a link to this post to the professor who taught the class. Hi, Stu!) I got partway through, then my very important life (read: baseball games) got in the way. But I always meant to go back and read it, and now I am. We're about to set out on the road, so why not read up on it?

The author's premise is that, unlike other writers who look for the "authentic" America on the backroads, he can find it on the Interstate. I could write a whole treatise on that theory (and did, for the class), but that's not the point of this post, so I'll spare you.

The book is filled largely with the author's ego, and also with a tremendous amount of tedious minutiae. It is also, though, speckled with incredibly interesting nuggets of information, which is what keeps me reading it.

I discovered one of those nuggets yesterday: The Madonna of the Trail.

The Madonna of the Trail is an homage to the pioneering spirit of the women who accompanied their men into the western frontier. As you can see from the photo above, the Madonna holds a baby in one arm and has a child clinging to her leg. I can relate. (She also carries a rifle, which I don't, but feel almost obligated to do now that I'm a Texan.)

There are 12 such Madonnas installed in as many states along the National Old Trails Road by the Daughters of the American Revolution. They were all dedicated in the late 1920s, and were part of a pet project by future president Harry Truman.

As an American history nerd, I was excited to have "discovered" these statues, but also regretted that I hadn't known of them before.

When I read the list of where these statues are located I almost literally kicked myself. The westernmost statue stands at the corner of Foothill Blvd. and Euclid Ave. in Upland, California, less than five miles from where I went to college.

I can't tell you how many dozens of times I passed through that intersection. I even recall being stopped at that intersection many times because there is also a Euclid Avenue in my hometown-area of Cleveland, and apparently I was too busy reminiscing to notice the 18-foot-tall monument on the corner.

I do have to question the relevance of locating the statue in Upland. Yes, the highway passed through the city (Foothill Blvd. is also part of the old Route 66), but beyond that, it seems like a stretch. I admit that my memory of westward expansion is rusty, but I don't recall pioneers flocking in their covered wagons to Upland. It's the thought that counts, though.

For a while now I have planned on taking the family on a mini-roadtrip up to that area. One of the original Wigwam Motels still exists in San Bernardino, a fact a friend and I discovered one sleepless college night while searching in vain for a midnight snack. Now I have another stop to add to that trip, and a renewed desire to go.

"We might need it some day"

One of the main roadblocks people face when decluttering is the belief (usually a fallacy) that they might someday need the products in question. We used to say that all the time (still do, to some extent), and you do, too. Admit it.

That ice cream maker you haven't used in four years? What if you suddenly get a hankering for peach-mint ice cream and need to make some? That DVD of Gone with the Wind that is still in shrink wrap after 10 years? What happens when you want to watch it, but Blockbuster has gone out of business and Netflix doesn't have it?

Yes, tough choices indeed.

We have, by necessity, gotten better about getting rid of things. If we haven't used it for a while and have no prospects of doing so anytime soon, we have been able to part without too much heartache or second-guessing.

The downside to that, though, is what happens when you suddenly do need something you no longer own. I have been faced with that predicament twice in the past few days.

The first time was last week when my mom and I were making potica/kolache (Hungarian/Slovenian nut roll). We went over the list of ingredients several times to make sure I had everything we needed. We determined that all we lacked were walnuts and enough butter, so Mom walked to the grocery store to buy them.

Shortly after she left, it occurred to me that I had sold my rolling pins, sort of a necessity for rolling out dough. See, I hate rolling stuff out. I don't like flouring surfaces that inevitably need to be cleaned. I can never roll things evenly enough. The only time I used my rolling pins were for making gingerbread cookies at Christmas, and I guess I figured we could live without those for a couple years.

Anyway, I tried calling my mom, but she had left her cell phone here. I'm not sure the grocery store would have sold rolling pins anyway. I envisioned us rolling out the dough with bean cans. I wondered if  I could substitute PVC pipe for a rolling pin, but I worried about toxic chemicals leaching into the dough. (I never said I was rational.) Finally I calmed down and went to borrow a rolling pin from my neighbor. It was a win-win: I was able to roll out the dough, and my neighbor got a free nut roll.

The second instance of realizing I might have gotten rid of something prematurely occurred last night. I had made some chicken mole for dinner. The cocoa and spices remind me of Christmas, and I commented that it would be a good Christmastime meal. That prompted a discussion about last year's Christmas Eve dinner: Swiss cheese fondue. Elias didn't like it much because he prefers orange cheese. I asked if he'd like to make cheddar cheese fondue this Christmas Eve, and he said he would.

That's when I realized I sold the fondue pot.

I'm sure I could rig something up, but I'm also sure that I won't bother.

Now, do I regret having sold my rolling pins and fondue pot? No, I don't. As I have learned, I can borrow a rolling pin if I need one. True, it might be harder to find one in an RV park than our regular neighborhood, but I bet it's possible. As for the fondue pot, really, we'll live. It's best not to trust Elias with a long sharp fork covered in scalding cheese anyway.

Happy Child Passenger Safety Week!

Today marks the start of a week dedicated to Child Passenger Safety. As most of you know, that's a topic I'm very passionate about. A fellow mommy-blogger interviewed me for an article on her blog, and it occurred to me that I should probably write a post of my own.

There is a lot to know about choosing and using a car seat, but here I present my Top Five Tips for Keeping Your Kids Safe in the Car.

1. Keep your child rear-facing as long as possible.
One year and 20 pounds is so 1990s. The new recommendation is to keep children rear-facing to the limits of their seat. With seats that now have tall shells and can support children to 35, 40, or even 45 pounds, most kids can rear-face for years. Anna will remain rear-facing until she's at least 3 years old, and possibly to 4 or beyond.

We would all be better off riding rear-facing, but that's not an option for adults. Little kids are lucky enough to be able to, so let them.

2. Keep your child in a harness until he's mature enough for a booster.
Just because you can put a toddler or preschooler in a booster doesn't mean you should. Until a child is mature enough to sit in a booster without lunging around and playing with the seatbelt, he should stay in a harnessed seat. We don't recommend boosters until kids are at least 4 years old, but it really depends on the kid. Elias, who has always taken car safety very seriously, didn't ride in a booster until he was 5, and even then it was only-part time. Now that he's 6, he's finally in one full-time. (And even now we have to remind him now and then to stay in position--though in his defense, when he leans over he's usually trying to help retrieve a toy that Anna has thrown down.)

3. Keep your child in a restraint (harness or booster) until the seatbelt fits PROPERLY on its own.
Under California law, my son is old enough to ditch the booster and ride in the seatbelt alone. As CPSTs like to say, though, the laws of physics trump the laws of man. An ill-fitting lap belt can cause terrible internal damage, like ruptured organs and severed spinal columns. When a shoulder belt rubs against a kid's neck, she's likely to put it behind her back, setting up the perfect scenario for head trauma in a crash since nothing is there to restrain the torso.

That's why my children won't ride without a booster until the lap belt fits low on the hips (not on the tummy), the shoulder belt sits across the middle of the shoulder, they can sit all the way back against the seat, their knees bend comfortably at the edge of the seat (to prevent inevitable slouching, which would make the lap belt ride up), and they can stay that way for the entire trip.

4. Know your seat, know your vehicle.
Read the manuals. Really. They're boring and tedious, but they're also full of extremely important information. You might find that not all the information you need to know is included (for example, if you own a Honda, you won't learn that you have to stop using LATCH when your child weighs 40 pounds), but you'll know more than you did when you started. Maybe you'll learn that you can't use LATCH in the center of your car. Maybe you'll learn that your child restraint can't touch the seat in front of it (check the airbag section). Maybe you'll learn that your car seat has an expiration date, or that you can't have your infant seat's handle up in the car. The manuals are a wealth of information. So read them. For real.

5. Get your seat inspected.
Find a Child Passenger Safety Technician and have them check your installation. Many people think they can just go down to the fire or police station, but the reality is that most public servants are not CPSTs. (That doesn't stop many well meaning firefighters from trying to help, but that can put you in a worse position than when you started.) So make sure whoever is helping you is a certified technician. You can find one near you at the SafeKids website or from this thread at car-seat.org. If you're in Orange County, CA, you can get in touch with Safety in Motion for an appointment or to learn about free events.

Sadly, not all technicians are up-to-date on their information or training. A good technician will make sure you install your seat and are comfortable doing so. They won't pressure you to turn your child forward-facing or move to a booster or seatbelt before he/she is ready. They won't tell you to install your seat in a way that contradicts the instructions. (How will you know that? Read your manuals, remember?)

If you want more information on Child Passenger Safety, these are some great resources:

car-seat.org

carseatblog.com

carseat.org

Have a safe and happy week!

Apple-Picking

Here are a few photos from our apple- and raspberry-picking adventure in Oak Glen last week. Our efforts resulted in enough fruit for two amazingly wonderful apple-raspberry pies (not pictured).











This final picture has absolutely nothing to do with fruit harvesting, but I feel bad that Anna dominated the previous photos. This is my handsome boy and the Lego Star Wars vehicle he built the other day.

Shoos!

When I used to dream of having a daughter, I imagined molding her into a miniature version of myself.

Funny how it doesn't really work that way.

See, I was (and largely still am) a tomboy. I preferred baseball to Barbies and Matchbox cars to Rainbow Brite. I never cared for fashion or makeup. Even today, my wardrobe consists of jeans, Old Navy t-shirts, and flip-flops. The closest I get to makeup is Burt's Bee's tinted lip balm.

Yet somehow I have created a daughter who loves nothing more than purses, sunglasses, and, most of all, shoes.

When Anna was about eight months old I had her in a kid's clothing store, and I remember her reaching out to touch the shoes. She threw a fit until I gave her one to carry around while we shopped. I thought it was funny.

One day a few months later we were in a store, and Anna started pointing and saying, "Ooze? Ooze?" Awwww, she was saying "shoes!" One of her first words.

Now it has evolved into a full-blown obsession.

When we were in Texas at the mall where Elias played in the human hamster ball, I took Anna into Stride Rite to look for some shoes. She was in the carrier on my back, and as soon as we walked in I could feel her start squirming with giddiness.

"Ooze!" she yelled.

"Yes, SHoes," I repeated, stressing the "sh."

"Ooze!" she yelled again.

"Yes, SHoes," I repeated.

Imagine that exchange occurring as we passed each of the next three dozen or so pairs of shoes.

Finally, she got the idea that there should be a "sh" sound in there.

"Oosh?" She started saying, a welcome change from the ooze.

"Close. SH-oes."

"Oosh?"

Then she did it.

"Shhhhh. Ooo."

"Yes! Shoe!"

For the next two hours, Anna kept repeating, "shhhhhhh. oooooooo," carefully puckering her little lips into a perfect "sh."

It was quite adorable.

Since then, "shoe" and "shoos" have become her favorite words...and her favorite things.

We were shopping the other day and passed a shoe store. Anna stopped and pointed to each pair in the window, exclaiming, "Shoos! Shoos! Shoos!" She then put her hands behind her back and pressed her face to the window in apparent adoration of the display.

I bought her a pair of cold-weather boots and put them in her closet. When she woke up the next morning, she insisted on holding them while I changed her diaper, and insisted on wearing them all day despite temperatures soaring into the 80s.



Yesterday we went to a Disney outlet store. I was perusing the goods while Anna hung out with my mom in another part of the store.

"Oh!" I heard Anna exclaim. We thought she was happy to have spotted me. A split second later, she squealed, "SHOOOOOOOS," jumped out of my mom's arms, and made a beeline to a display of black Crocs lined with red fur. She grabbed a pair off the rack, sat down on the floor, and proceeded to remove her brown Converse to try them on. How could I tell her no?

I realize that buying my daughter shoes negates our attempt to reduce the number of things we own. But they're so cute, and they make her so happy, and they're small enough that they really don't take up much room. (Plus I only buy on sale.)

And that is how my 17-month old daughter came to own more shoes than I do.

Photos from the trip

Sorry it's been a few days. We've been settling back into our "normal" routine.

Lucy seemed happy to be picked up from boarding, although as usual she never lacked attention while she was there. Apparently they had her sit in on some staff meetings.

Elias has started first grade, and we have work due soon so I've been scrambling to make up for the two weeks we lost while on the road. (Not that we didn't do educational stuff during the travels, and not that I can't have that count as our work, but I do need to get our organization in better shape.)

Steve has gone back to work.

The house is still for sale.

Oh, and Camping World might have messed up our hitch installation. Steve is talking with a hitch expert about that. Could be fun.

But without further ado, here are some photos from our trip, including the remaining photos of Homer's interior that I wasn't able to upload before.

Here's a big rocket at the Johnson Space Center in Houston. See Steve and the kids at the bottom? (At least I think that's Steve and the kids...)


This is the guard station at the Igloo factory in Brookshire, TX. (For the record, they have a factory store there, and we scored about $60 worth of coolers for $20.)


This is the World's Largest Fire Hydrant in Beaumont, TX. It's actually only the third-largest now, but who's counting? It sits outside the Texas Fire Museum and was created to publicize the release of the live-action version of Disney's 101 Dalmatians.


They also have some normal-sized Dalmatian-themed hydrants:


And Elias found a Hidden Mickey on one:


Anna driving a fire truck in the museum:


And Elias:


Here's Anna by the river at the KOA in Junction, TX:


Elias at the site where Billy the Kid was sentenced:


Anna being a goof:


The kids' wardrobe and bathroom in Homer:



Our first dinner in Homer:


A photo of the whole rig:


And finally, a rock Elias found at the campground in Yuma. He thought it looked like a fifth wheel, and I'd say he's absolutely right:

We're home!

Eighteen days and 4,444 miles later, we have finally made it back!

Homer is resting comfortably in an undisclosed location. Lucy is still at the "doggy hotel" (we can't pick her up since it's a holiday). Elias threw up all over the kitchen. Anna is cranky. But Steve is doing the laundry, so I can't complain much.

After we left the KOA where we stayed our first night on the road, we stopped at another KOA in Las Cruces, New Mexico. It wasn't nearly as nice as the first one, but it did the job. We had planned on staying at a place about an hour east of El Paso, but it looked really questionable so we kept driving. We then planned on staying somewhere else (Deming, maybe? It's all blurring together now.), but those also looked sketchy. So we wound up in Las Cruces, which was much farther than we had planned on driving.

Then yesterday we planned on making a short trip and staying two nights wherever we ended up. We figured the kids had put up with a lot of driving and deserved a break, plus we didn't want to drive back into Southern California on Labor Day when we would be sure to hit awful traffic.

Again, the first few places we planned on stopping looked a little scary. So we kept driving and wound up in Yuma, which resulted, again, in far more driving than we had planned. I scoured RV-park reviews online while we were driving and managed to find two that had pull-throughs, 50-amp electric, a pool, and were "family friendly" (a lot of the parks around there are reserved for seniors).

When we finally pulled in to the one we chose, it was a ghost town. Nothing but taped-up trailers waiting for their owners to return in the winter. I think there were only four other people in the whole park, including the people working there.

It was pretty sparse and ridiculously overpriced. Another internet search revealed that there is absolutely NOTHING to do in Yuma during the summer. The camel farm doesn't open until October. It was also 110 degrees. We decided that if we left early enough in the morning we should be able to beat the holiday traffic.

In the meantime, it was so hot that Steve and I were both able to shower this morning without turning on the hot water. I'm not exaggerating: the cold water was warm enough to bathe in at the same temperature we normally would.

We did hit a little traffic, but not enough to make us regret our decision.

In retrospect, we wish we had stayed at that first KOA (the one with the amazing barbeque) for another night or two. But there will be other opportunities.

I have many more observations and things to write about and photos to post, but those can wait until later. Right now I'm going to get the kids to bed and take a nice hot bath.