The Day We Left San Diego We Popped a Wheelie and Never Said Goodbye

Leaving San Diego did not feel final. We did not say most any of our goodbyes, except to family. I feel horrible that goodbyes did not happen. Friends were understanding. But Goodbye was not what I pictured. For the last time, I dropped off the boys with my parents, this time, so we could shove our lives into our cars, shove what could not fit in the cars into our storage unit, and take the rest to the dump. And by "we" I mean the Hubs. He shoved the most.

At 9:30am I was encouraged when my kitchen looked like this.


I thought we would finish before the renters arrived. We did not. I wished we were gone. I really detest key turnover. I refused to participate when we left Virginia and when we left Hawaii. I don't want to see the excitement in their eyes about living in a home I have loved. I don't like to hear how they will treat it "like their own," or how "this is your house." How in the world do all these people have the same lines?

Tick, tick, tick. Time slipped through our hands faster than a greased pig. The renters arrived before we were out. Their kids were ready to jump in the pool. Contrast that with wishing we would have swam the day before. My stomach churned.

In the handful of minutes they talked to Hubs, I breathlessly grabbed what was left in the house and threw it all in the garage. We organized there for more hours. I could hear the squeals of excitement, the kids pounding up the hardwood floors, running over head. Silently, Hubs closed the laundry room door to the garage. He looked at me, unmoved by the commotion, unmoved by the armfuls of their belongings. That's him. Not me.

But he closed the laundry door for me. And the way he looked at me, that was for me. After all of these moves it is never the actual house that I miss. It is what was, what is now no longer. Its the emotional, sensitive, ridiculous, and totally rational in the moment, part of me. It is that part that wants time to stand still to finish what I may have left unfinished. It is that part of me that has a pity party in the moment, if even in my head.

Our plan was to be on our way to Phoenix by 10am. But by 2:30pm, our three car garage still looked like this.
The stuff in the rafters stayed in the rafters. We had that planned. I looked around overwhelmed at what was left. The Hubs was taking care of a bazillion and one last details. I was exhausted. I missed my kids. I despised what was left. About then the Hubs pulled in the driveway. I will skip the story of how he pulled our gas dryer out of storage at the eleventh hour at the request of our tenants, and nearly severed his finger. It is too gory. Moving on...

I told him we just needed to be done. We worked fast and furiously, until 4:09pm, when our cars looked like this.

And why yes, that is our nearly new play structure now sitting in the neighbors yard across the street. Not that I had any emotion over that, either.

Time to GO. We zoomed out of the driveway in separate directions. The Hubs scooted to the storage unit, and I hustled to my parents house. I readied the kids for the road because their daddy was swinging by to get them strapped down. He planned to stop and grab a spare tire for the trailer he was towing. The store closed at 5pm, and he was pulling out of my parents neighborhood at 4:35pm. The older boys ran to greet him on the lawn. He scooped them up, tossed them in the truck, and hugged my parents goodbye. I still had to pack up the baby and a few last things.

Then came a call from the Hubs twenty minutes later. He spoke to me in a shaky voice. "God loves us and is looking out for us." He had called the trailer dealership that Friday afternoon at 4:59pm. He asked them to hold the spare tire for a few minutes, though they were closed. He was three minutes away, exiting the freeway ramp. He hung up, and blew out a tire coming off the freeway. By God's grace the blowout was not on the freeway when he was driving at maximum trailer speed. Our kids were shocked, but safe. The Hubs was safe. That is all that mattered. That, and now replacing all trailer tires to avoid more danger. All of the stress in the world at that moment was futile, worthless. Our family mattered. That was all.

I fed Son3 dinner, packed up my mom's cookies, and did a terrible job of shoving more into that minivan. Finally it was time to pull away from the curb, to meet up with my husband and sons several miles east.



It was just me, Son3, my oozing minivan, and the mattress we forgot to pack in the trailer.



My parents knew it was time to say goodbye. They said everything but goodbye. Maybe they thought it would keep me in front of their house longer if they did not speak the word. They were right. No one wanted to be the first to say it. My dad offered to come with me, right then and there. But really, there was no place for any passengers over 20 pounds. All of the other five seats were occupied with Farmer stuff. We joked for some minutes, but I knew it was time. So rather than say goodbye, I grabbed my camera and we took about 20 or so silly shots until we got this one. I love it. And you know what? Goodbye just did not look the way I planned it. This time it was ok.

San Diego Winter

It really is Winter here in San Diego, even if it has been in the mid 70s all week, which is only a teeny unusual. This time of year the high winter temperatures average in the 60s to low 70s. I cannot figure out how our trees lose so many leaves with warmer temperatures, though. I took my kids to a park a handful of miles away out in the 'burbs, where we live. This park wraps around part of a golf course, so it is huge with different trees on different sides.
At the same park on the same day, we saw these palm trees.
The boys and I were GOING to ride the train. See the train tracks? We missed the last train and I nearly broke their little hearts. The hours of operation on the web were not accurate. Sniff. Needless to say, folks in San Diego do not put away shorts for the winter, like in other parts of the country. We have only two seasons, a wet season and a dry season. It was 77 degrees on Sunday when I took this picture, in January, at nearly three in the afternoon.
This picture was taken by my Hubs yesterday, so I am "sharing" with him. The sun was setting over the harbor between the Embarcadero and Coronado. Another mid 70s winter day in San Diego, but with very cool water temperature, of about 60 degrees.

You Capture is hosted by Beth at I Should Be Folding Laundry

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The Big Rock and The Fix It Ticket

I didn't mean to leave you hanging on the first class ticket to Hawaii. I will tell you, I promise. But first, a little about our trip to San Diego.

Hubby's work provided ten days for us in San Diego prior to our final move. And by us, I mean Hubby and me. We scheduled the trip around Christmas, and paid for our kids' expenses. This Christmas was particularly special for my mom. We have always lived 2500 miles away since we have had children, and spend Christmas at our home. My mom dreamed of having all of her grandchildren for Christmas at her house, and this year, it finally happened. I am only sorry I did not take more pictures of my parents' home, because going there for the holidays in an event. I will not ask what their electric bill runs for the month of December, or how their grass, rooftop, and trees do not catch on fire.

Our whole family spent Christmas Eve at Legoland. I felt a little guilty about not going to church. But when I checked the weather report it was the only day that we could all go, and freezing rain was not predicted. My nephew and my Son1 speak frequently on the phone and were tasting this day together for some time.

Christmas Day was spent at my parents' house.














Can you believe this is he best picture I took of my mom with the kids? It is hard to make ridiculous noises and jump up and down and try and get three people in a picture with a steady hand.













I convinced my mom to buy a gingerbread house for the kids to decorate. Aahh but my mom and I wisely tasked my unknowing sister to decorate the house with the children. Have you ever decorated a gingerbread house with preschoolers? Then you know what I am talking about!









On one of our last days in San Diego, my kids saw the Holiday Bowl parade from our hotel window. We were staying on the corner of Pacific Highway and Market Street, right on the parade route. San Diego is home to the largest balloon parade (grounded balloons, not hot air balloons). Can you recognize these?

These are the Anheuser Busch Clydesdales. See the wagon driver? He is sitting on cases and cases of beer. Do you know what AB owns in San Diego?

Here is a clue:

Did you guess Sea World?

And my favorite float was the Polynesian float because they played beats that flooded my heart from Hawaii!

My kids loved the parade!

Now...back to our story of the first class ticket. The kids and I were sitting in 12B and 12C. Hubs was supposed to be in 12A before he upgraded his ungrateful wife me to first class. We were having a pleading session with one another. He pleaded with me to take the ticket. I pleaded for him to give back the upgrade. He asked the gate agent, but it was too late. The whole plane had boarded, and they upgraded someone else to 12A in Economy Plus, with us. One of the two of us had to sit in the first class seat. The only option was if the person now in 12A wanted to move to 10A Hubs could sit back in his original seat. My whole anxiety was that I wanted to be with my kids. I am with them all of the time these days. To not be with them is strange. This is my new normal. I did not want to sit without them, next to a stranger. Okay, and maybe away from all of those desserts Hubs had just bought. (No judging if I gain any weight back! I am eating out for 60 days!) Hubs suggested that Son2 sit with me in first class. Noooo way. We have flown with our children in first class. Even the most well behaved kids get what we call "stink eye" in Hawaii. Hubs finally caved, and volunteered to sit in the seat with Son2, and Son1 and I would sit in Economy Plus. I still had hope, though.

Son1 and I found our seats in row 12 next to a bad attempt at a punk teen idol with the hair, the clothes, and the music. I am not kidding. I sat down ever so kindly, and threw myself at this young one. Could she possibly take 10A so my family could sit together? She didn't know what to make of my gentle forcefulness. (Did you know I once had dreams of being a hostage negotiator?) She gathered her things, and I turned and said, "Well, I just have to check with him. I need to see if he is willing to give up his first class seat." Now this young one was a smart one. She cocked her head to one side and let me know she would be perfectly willing to take his first class seat. I told her I wasn't sure the airline would allow this, but I would ask. In fact, I know they don't allow this, because the next person on the upgrade list should be tapped for first class, not some random young one in 12A.

I rushed up to first class, and yes, I got the stink eye, like, what was I doing in the wrong cabin, minutes before take off?? I ignored them, and relayed the story to Hubs, and he agreed without hesitation to move to Economy Plus, as long as it was OK with the gate agent, who was now on board the plane trying to put out other fires. I excitedly approached the irritated agent, and she questioned Hubs three times. Did he really want to give up his seat? Oh yes he did, he assured her. He is not the happiest passenger when he is not upgraded. I found it odd, but didn't question his choice. And then I jumped in and asked the gate agent if we could give the seat to the young one sitting in 12A. Her head was spinning. We were already 30 minutes late for take off and the passengers and crew were restless. She had the you-are-crazy look written all over her face, but agreed, just to be done with us. Hubs grabbed his laptop backpack, which is the equivalent of a small tortoise shell, larger than Son2. That thing carries Lots of Precious Stuff That Cannot Be Lost in Our Move. So he ambled down the aisle with Son2 across his front, and his backpack sticking out of his back. I ran back to the young one, and told her Hubs and the gate agent agreed she could have the seat. "Merry Christmas! Happy New Year!" Ohhh she was so grateful. She fell all over herself, telling me I didn't know what this meant. She had traveled for 48 hours already, and it was her birthday, and on, and on, and on. I sincerely told her to enjoy, and helped her clear the aisle quickly so Hubs could settle into our row with Son2.

Hubs stowed his backpack and plunked down in the seat next to me. Our boys squealed at the sight of one another, like they hadn't seen one another in years. And Hubby's rushed exit from first class? Oooh the passenger next to Hubs definitely gave him some serious stink eye when he took the seat next to her with Son2 who was quiet, by the way. She was in no mood to sit next to a little guy. Hubs said she was of the Hoity Toity variety.

My heart was full. Our whole family was together in the same row! I unzipped my backpack, and pulled out some "help" to make the kids groggy. It worked, but on the wrong child. The unphased child was awake and active. And I will leave it at that because anything more I would tell you is unnecessary.

Now, we are flying again in just over a week. There will be no attempts to upgrade, no attempts to tempt me with peacefulness and a movie, and fancy food. But phew! Since Hubby's work pays for the kids this time, we will at least have four seats rather than three. Now, the groggy help? I will attempt that again!

Balboa Park: San Diego Zoo and Miniature Railroad

Balboa Park is the nation's largest urban cultural park, located in the heart of downtown San Diego. It's four times the size of the National Mall in Washington, D.C., and 400 acres larger than Central Park in New York City. The San Diego Zoo leases 100 acres from the City of San Diego right in Balboa Park. It is one of the world's largest zoos, committed to preserving and breeding endangered animals in captivity. The San Diego Zoo is best known for leading the way in cageless exhibits. The open air exhibits replicate natural animal habitats, and include plants that are native to animal regions. The Zoo is also known for it's amazing landscape.

Son1 begged and begged to go to the San Diego Zoo every day we were in San Diego. On one of our last days we finally made his heart sing. We even bought season passes. Hubby. Son1, and my parents rode the open air bus that allows you to see 75% of the zoo in 40 minutes. Meantime, Son2 and I walked and observed less exhibits from the trails more closely. We joined the rest of the family after their bus ride at the Children's Zoo, and for a few more exhibits.

The Children's Zoo alone has over 30 exhibits. We spent a lot of time at the Petting Paddock, where the boys chased after farm animals.

Watching a sea otter swim past
Open wide Mr. Snake!!

This is a scarlet macaw, part of the parrot family. They are monogamous. That's why they fascinate me. They stay together until their partner dies. This is called a pair bond in the animal kingdom. They preen one another's feathers, they roost together, and they share food.

Giraffes' favorite food is acacia leaves. The acacia trees have long thorns that keep most animals from eating their leaves. Since giraffes have a tongue a foot and a half long, they just reach around the thorns!
Brown bears live in Bear Canyon at the San Diego Zoo. During the summer months the bears are fertile. When they actually give birth they are hibernating, and sleep through the first six weeks of nursing their young. And while they are hibernating, they never, ever relieve themselves out of either end!
Camel humps store fat, not water. That's why they can survive several months without food!
Caribbean flamingos greet visitors at the front of the zoo. An entire lagoon enclosure was built for them.
This is called a Georgia Pearl. It is like a Hawaiian hibiscus flower, only on steroids. This flower was bigger than my hand!

It was an awfully hot San Diego day. We called it a day after some hours at the zoo. As we neared the exit, we heard DING DING! DING DING! Son1 perked up. A train!

Just outside of the zoo exit, is the Balboa Park Miniature Railroad. It operates a 3-minute, ½-mile trip through four acres of Balboa Park. The train is a model G16, a rare antique. The little train is operated by the San Diego Zoo Department of Transportation. My parents used to take my sister and me on this train many Sundays after church. We had season passes to the zoo back then, too. Sometimes we would go to the zoo for a little while and then ride the train. Riding the little train is one of my fondest childhood memories. I hoped for enough time on this trip to ride the train with my sons, for the first time.

We sat right behind the conductor's seat. The miniature train has no door. The conductor jumps over the train body into the driver's seat after calling "All Aboard!" On the return to the station, the train rambles through this train tunnel. See the black hole? It is tucked in between huge Eucalyptus trees, a signature of Balboa Park. See how monstrous they are?

Son2 and Daddy on the Balboa Park train

This turn style conjured up a nostalgic picture of me clicking the heels of my shoes over the bottom wrung, hanging on, as I swung through to the other side of the fence. I wouldn't have remembered I used to do that without seeing this turn style again.
Hubby bought Son1 a conductor's hat from the little souvenir stand on our way out. He looked so cute but then he had all the more reason to stall going home. He waved goodbye to the train as it left the station, just like Sir Topham Hatt from Thomas the Tank.

The Faces of Foreclosures

Hubby and I expected to purchase a bank owned home in foreclosure in San Diego. Home prices have fallen as much as forty percent from the height of the market. This sounded wonderful. We talked about the people that were losing their homes. Didn't they know what they were getting into with these non-traditional home loans?

We viewed dozens and dozens of homes. Some were new construction homes, but mostly homes less than five years old. Some were vacant with damage to the construction of the home. Most had missing fixtures and yanked wall units that made gaping holes. Appliances were stripped, hardware was missing, and even pool pumps were taken. Some homes had signs of electrical wiring damage. The landscaping in some of these homes was almost fabulous. But previous owners ripped out anything smaller than a tree.

If that was hard to see, even worse were the homes where people lived. People refused to answer the door, even though we scheduled an appointment with their realtor. We could hear people inside, though. At a few different homes, parents sent their children to open the door, and then hid from us. That was the hardest. Hubby and I felt terribly for these children, knowing they were uncomfortable with us looking at their bedrooms. And still, there were other people that showed us their homes willingly, and too eagerly. At one home, three family members asked how we liked the home. The father called to us as we left, "Is is the home of your dreams?" The people were nice, genuinely nice, but desperate and stressed. The homes were all beautiful, and some were promising. But now we looked at the homes through different eyes. We had seen the faces of foreclosures; we saw the anger left behind at vacant homes, the uneasiness of children, flustered parents, and anxious others. After days of looking, our hearts were softened toward these people and their situation.

When the economy is strong, home prices in San Diego skyrocket forty percent above the national average. The cost of living is outrageous. But in times like these, San Diego takes an incredibly hard hit. The same thing happened in the mid '80s and in the late '90s.

We are still very excited to move, though, and we do imagine the possibilities. We looked at this house over and over. This is just part of the pool. Hubby calls this the Hugh Hefner pool. Hefner's pool is famous for it's waterfall and walk in cave that leads to a hot tub that accommodates six people. This pool has a waterfall that cascades over bench seating with a built in table. I told him he had to give me bunny ears.

Visiting the Grandparents in San Diego

Son1 has dreamed of coming to San Diego for months to visit my parents. He called them daily the month before we left. He loves their home! He was last in San Diego prior to his third birthday. I was surprised he remembered so much. My parents used to have tropical fish, but they are in some fish heaven now. Son1 walked right up to where they used to sit and asked about the fish. Then, right under the Spanish arch of their home sits a few bird cages. He tangled the blinds a few times to spy on the birds, since I won't let him open the front door and wander out there. Their home has grown whimsical with different themes and breakables. The kids haven't broken anything to date. Whew!

My parents have two dogs. (YES more animals, my mother calls my dad Dr. Doolittle.) Duke is my mom's treasured Maltese, and Gigi is a Toy Poodle, and my dad's gift to Duke. My kids are nuts over the two doggies. One day Son1 asked to walk the doggies.

My folks live in beautiful planned community. We leashed up the dogs, and walked a few blocks to a community park. Both of my kids headed for the swings first. Remember, we don't have swings in our Oahu parks. We played for several more minutes, and then continued walking.

They live near a man made lake, filled with ducks, and boats for use. Son1 was awed by the tameness of the ducks. He ran and chased them. Son2 screamed and kicked in his stroller. He is our animal lover. DOWN he wanted DOWN. I plucked him from his stroller, and he laughed at the silliness of his crying. DUCKS he wanted DUCKS.The community is landscaped with many tropical flowers and plants that remind me of Hawaii.

My dad loves tropical landscapes, too. This is a small snapshot of their backyard. They have so many tropical plants and flowers I could do a whole blog post just on their yard.


Son1 insists we eat most meals outside on the patio. My parents have a few table and chair set ups for dining. We finish our meals, and the kids climb into the glider swings. Son1 is enamored with the yard. He roams freely, picking flowers, and carefully exploring their decorations. Inside this bird cage are porcelain birds. Son1 delicately pulls them from their perches and plays with them like Fisher Price toys. I worry some, but not too much. See in his hand? He picked flowers for me. He does this most days.
The flower picking needs to be monitored, though. He has accompanied us some days on our house hunt, and picks flowers he shouldn't.