Happy Birthday Coral Anna

One year. Here’s Coral eating her first piece of cake ever. She ate about half and then put all the leftover cake on the tablecloth beside her plate. She doesn’t like having anything she doesn’t plan to eat on her plate. She kept walking me to the bar to show me a big picture of a dog. “Daaaaooooog!” she’d yell, riling the drunks.

At one, she likes putting on shoes and pants. She holds them up and whispers, “Dress, dress.” Today before her birthday dinner she wanted me to change her clothes. She brought over a shirt, handed it to me, and started rubbing her belly and saying, “Dress, dress.” She likes to say “touch” just before she sticks her finger in your eye. Then she likes to say “eeeyeeeee.” She points to pictures of seals in books and says, “Daaaaooog.” She’s figured out dancing. She waves and says, “Baaaaaa” at departure. She calls her sister, “Sis.” She climbs on the table, the windowsills, the back of a wingback chair. She has yet to master “Gentle Hands” and she’s a wicked biter. She has a perfect fake laugh that rings out three seconds after anyone else laughs. It makes her sound sophisticated. She calls me “mom mom.” Water is her element. She thinks being dunked is funny.

Two days ago Cedar asked me, “Mama, why is Coral a mammal?” One answer: because she’s had to wear a ponytail since she was eight weeks old to keep her hair out of her eyes. Another answer: nursing. Another answer: because Daddy and I are mammals and mammal parents have mammal babies. Why do mammals name their children after trees and sea creatures?  Who knows? Thanks for a great year, little mammal.

I’ve been slow on the blog. Busy, visitors, taking a class. Excuses.

Review: Brunch at The Pump House in Fairbanks, Alaska

The Pump House, 796 Chena Pump Road, Fairbanks, Alaska, 479-8452

Sometimes I miss the places we used to frequent back in the days of graduate school. Some, like The Marlin, aren’t for the kiddies. Some, like Hot Licks, are perfect. And others, like Ivory Jack’s, provide unexpected baby-friendly old-school Fairbanks fun.

The Pump House is one of those baby-friendly surprises. Back in the day we went to the bar during happy hour for half-priced appetizers. Now that we can afford it and we’re toting two little ones we changed the time of our visit. With grandparents visiting this month, and because we missed the wonderful Pump House Mother’s Day spread, Sunday brunch seemed like a good idea. It was the perfect upscale dining experience for folks with kids in tow.

The first seating for brunch is at 10 a.m. which is prime snack time in our house. It’s morning, the kids are in good moods, and they’re both hungry. Because the brunch is a buffet, there’s no waiting for food. No time for a toddler to begin shouting, “Where’s our food! Why don’t we have any food to eat?” You can get settled, have a glass of champagne poured for yourself, and then head directly to the buffet with your toddler to find her favorites.

The buffet has ample baby and toddler food. There’s plenty of fruit: watermelon, cantaloupe, grapes. Crackers and toast are available for little folks comfortable with finger foods. A waffle kept Coral occupied for a long time. Cedar enjoyed a waffle soaked in whipped cream, moved on to a variety of mixed fruit, and finished with a little fruit tart and a tiny chocolate mousse. The desserts are, for the most part, sized perfectly for the kids. As an added bonus kids under four eat free at the brunch. I think Coral may have eaten her body weight in watermelon, so it really was a bargain.

The buffet service allows parents to tag-team child care. One of you can help the little ones eat while the other enjoys French toast, eggs Benedict, and waffles with a chaser of excellent creme brulee.

The staff is sensitive to the needs of people eating with little ones. High chairs are handy and set up for you. In the past, the servers brought a plastic cup with a straw instead of a stemmed water glass for Cedar. I don’t know if they forgot this time, but she happily used one of the tiny juice glasses. Our server was kind enough to gather up the watermelon Coral threw on the floor and whisk it away before I even had the chance to look under the table.

When it’s time for a fresh diaper or a visit to the potty, you’ll find The Pump House’s quirky bathroom spotless and well-appointed. The women’s bathroom features one of the most unusual changing tables in town. It’s mounted directly onto the outside door of the handicapped stall. Be sure to check for feet under the door before you start changing baby as you might trap an unsuspecting diner. With the changing table down, there’s not much room for other diners to use the sinks. At the 10 a.m. brunch it wasn’t a problem as crowding wasn’t an issue. With Sunday Brunch being such a family-friendly affair I imagine most folks would be accommodating.

If you’re helping the newly potty trained, the handicapped stall is your best option. The other two stalls are unusually short and the doors almost touch the knees of the potty-goer. If you have to hold your toddler to keep her from falling in you’ll have to leave the door open.

Back at the table, when fine dining grows tedious for a toddler, there’s plenty to look at. Cedar enjoyed the huge grizzly in the entry as well as a Dall sheep and moose above the salad table. We also found a few trout mounted in the bar to look at. Once the animals lost their appeal, a walk out to the deck to look at the river kept her going. She even had the chance to watch a float plane landing.

Call for reservations. They’ll have the high chairs ready and waiting. If Mother’s Day is coming, plan to bring mom there. She’ll have a delicious brunch with all the kids that will barely feel like going out with the kids. The Pump House will even give her a flower.

Happy 4th of July from Ester, Alaska

We wanted to go to the famous 4th of July parade in Ester, Alaska. We checked the Daily News-Miner calendar for the start time. Nothing. We googled and found that the start time was privileged information. On the blog of the Ester Republic we found this explanation from Deirdre Helfferich:

Mary Beth Smetzer called Mike Musick who called me wanting to know when the Ester Fourth of July parade was so she could put it in her calendar of events for the News-Miner. My immediate reaction was–gads, don’t publicize it!–but I wasn’t entirely sure about that. Mike didn’t know exactly how he felt about it, either, apparently–”Do you want her number?” he asked. I said no, but I kept thinking about it. Do we really want a ton of Fairbanksans showing up? Do we want to advertise it? I mean, it’s fun having an audience, but it’s not a commercial event, it’s just fun. And it’s just us and our neighbors, goofing around for ourselves and our neighbors.

So we were left with the question: Do we add ourselves to the ton of Fairbanksans who might show up? We decided yes, we’d respectfully crash the event. As the parents of two little girls who love parades, but who can’t stomach much more Bush administration, Bible-thumping patriotism, we decided the Ester parade was just where we belonged. Here’s Helfferich’s description of what sets the Ester parade apart and why Fairbanksans show up.

. . . so they come out to Ester to watch the parade, where satire and foolishness and spur-of-the-moment costuming are the norm, and sacred cows and politicians are regularly lampooned, as befits a proper jest.

And a proper jest it was. The perfect parade on the perfect day in our imperfect world. Here are some highlights.

Bagpipes sounding in the hills.

Really big tires.

The folks from Calypso Farm encouraging eating locally and handing out radishes.

Mandy and Cedar enjoying the show.

Representative David Guttenberg represents.

Alaska, where pork is king (and a parade float).

Young puppeteers.

Where else does the grim reaper make an appearance at a parade? He was coughing uncontrollably and staggering down the hill.

Scooter Libby. You can’t tell from this picture, but he’s riding a scooter. His sign reads “C’mon, It’s a War Worth Lying For!”

George Bush wishing Scooter Libby “Happy Independence Day.”

Cedar makes the acquaintance of Uncle Sam.

Commentary on Congressman Don Young.

Getting a closer look at the wrong end of “Pork Politics”

Thank you independent republic of Ester for the wonderful parade. You’re an inspiration. In her post about publicizing (or not publicizing) the Ester parade Helfferich called on other communities in Fairbanks to host their own parades. I agree. We should. She closed by reminding everyone:

All you need for a parade is a beginning, a middle, and an end. That’s three people in costume, and poof! You’ve got a parade. Easy.

Subarctic News Flash

News items from the subarctic front:

Thanks to bianca bean who gave me the honor of displaying Rosie the Rockin’ Blogger. I feel cool. I’d like to pass it on to Shauna and Jenny. You are both now welcome to copy Rosie the Rockin’ Blogger in all her fist-in-the-air determination and post her with pride.

Visit Flea at One Good Thing. She’s having a contest of sorts for embarrassing parenting stories. Read the comments. They’re both riveting and hilarious. I believe I read the most mortifying parenting moment ever in her introduction.

Chocolate Soy Milk

I love seeing the gears turning inside my toddler’s brain. Here’s my recent favorite.

We were passing the Hershey’s Syrup in the grocery store and Cedar said, “Mama can we get some chocolate soy sauce so I can have some chocolate soy milk?”

How could I say no to chocolate soy sauce?