Tag Archive for: vacation with kids

Family travel experts who start young

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Next week, we'll be here.

Next week, we’ll be here.

As Powerwoman and I make final preparations for next week’s road trip from our home in Northern California to Yosemite National Park, we’ve come up against a rather opinionated family travel expert: our own 4-year-old.

Apparently, since L has amassed multitudes of experience on the road, she has developed firm particulars about what she will and will not accept during a long haul in the car.

On the whitelist: Taylor Swift music, goldfish crackers, Etch-a-Sketch, and playground stops.

On the blacklist: Naps, male singers (including Mumford & Sons, unfortunately), uninterrupted drive times of more than two hours, and carrot sticks.

Our daughter also has shared deep thoughts about hotels over the last few weeks, seemingly in the hopes that we will base our planning decisions on her wants and likes (we won’t; we’re staying here). Some of the more notable statements: 1) Hotel rooms with extra space are better because that way the two sisters can run around “like maniacs,” 2) Sometimes the “toilet seats in hotel bathrooms are too big,” and 3) It is annoying when Daddy has to spend time talking to his “friends” who run hotels.

Yes, these statements are completely ridiculous (especially No. 2). But they’re also true. And they’ve led Powerwoman and me to marvel at how insightful our jet-setting preschooler has become in her short time with a frequent flier number.

We’re not the only parents to marvel at this type of precociousness.

Friend and fellow travel blogger Katie Wood Dillon, a.k.a., La Jolla Mom, recently posted on Facebook about a similar experience with her 6-year-old. With Katie’s permission, here’s the snip:

“I just had the option to upgrade/re-route our mileage flights so thought I’d run the options by [my daughter]. She rejected international first class (!!!) on American Airlines for business class on Japan Airlines citing cold green tea, Pac-Man on the inflight entertainment and beef curry at the Narita lounge. In the same breath, she stated that American Airlines planes smell worse and that she’ll do anything to avoid flying a regional jet unless we’re going to Hong Kong on Cathay Pacific which is the best airline ever. At 6-years-old, all of this is so incredibly accurate that I can almost not handle it.”

When did these little humans become so smart? When did they become so perceptive? Are the ins and outs of travel THAT obvious? Most important: What else can our kids teach us about the vagaries and eccentricities and realities of travel we have come to accept as normal?

I’m not sure I know the answer to any of these questions. But I sure as heck am going to turn to the family’s newest travel expert to try and figure things out.

Taking the family on a solo trip

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Like thunder.

Like thunder.

This weekend marks my annual pilgrimage with a bunch of guy friends to Las Vegas for the opening rounds of the National Collegiate Athletic Association men’s basketball tournament. That means I’ll be spending the next four days traveling solo, for fun.

In our family, where the four of us usually travel together, this is big news. And to commemorate the occasion, L made me a present to bring with me on my trip.

She calls it “The Love Book.”

The book is a compilation of drawings she made over the course of the week—drawings that, according to my daughter, demonstrate how much she loves her daddy. Some of the pictures are age-appropriate: Pictures of trees and birds and princesses and butterflies. My personal favorite, the one pictured above, depicts L’s heart full of love for me—when she described it, she said the love was “like thunder.”

As she presented the book to me, L told me to take it with me on my trip, to look at it every day, and to think of her every time I do.

It was the first thing I packed. And I plan to carry it with me wherever I go.

Technically, L and R and Powerwoman will be back at home this weekend while I (gamble and drink and smoke and) hang with the boys in Vegas. Because of The Love Book, however, they’ll be with me the whole time. Which makes me the luckiest guy in town.

First-aid kits for the traveling family

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The kits.

The kits.

I never was a Boy Scout, but—especially as a father—I always have embraced the notion of being prepared.

For this reason, the girls and I never leave the house without multiple snacks, plenty of water, and at least one change of clothes for each of them. Also in my fatherhood rucksack: a Ziploc full of crayons and a pad of blank paper. I also keep a backup cell phone battery, in case we are desperate to listen to some Taylor Swift (or, say, make an emergency call).

Faced with next month’s trip to Yosemite National Park, I’ve been applying my preparedness mantra in new and exciting ways. Backup raingear! Backup nightlights for our hotel room! Extra batteries for the headlamps!

The real focus of my neuroses in preparation for this trip: Our first aid kit.

Stocking the primary kit was easy; I’ve been hiking into the backcountry for nearly 20 years, and have become a skilled veteran at making sure the mothership has all of the bandages, Bacitracin, moleskin and other goodies it can fit.

Procuring secondary (backup, if you will) kits for the girls proved to be a bit more difficult. At first I tried piecing together my own, jamming Doc McStuffins-themed Band-Aids and Neo-to-Go vials into tiny little dry bags for the girls’ packs. Then, on an impromptu visit to Bed, Bath & Beyond, I discovered tiny kid-friendly kits from an Arizona company named me4kidz.

The kits, which retailed for $3.99 apiece, are about the size of a standard glasses case. Inside they have standard-issue gauze, sting relief pads, towelettes, antibiotic ointment (a.k.a., Bacitracin), and sponges. They also have 12 bandages decorated with silly animal characters. And stickers. Lots of stickers.

No, the characters on these bandages aren’t as cool as the characters from Doc. But they are pretty cute. And they’re SOMETHING (as opposed to the boring rectangles that are grown-up bandages and Band-Aids).

That’s what I think I like best about these little first-aid kits; clearly they were designed by parents with kids like mine. The fact that the kits contain stickers is amazing in and of itself. What’s more, the cases come in different colors—something that young kids (including my own, BTW) get really interested in/possessive about.

(ICYW, L claimed the turquoise one, while R opted for orange.)

Will the me4kidz kits help us treat a serious injury in the backcountry? Probably not. But considering that we’ve got the fallback of my primary kit and the fact that we rarely will be more than two or three miles out into the actual “backcountry,” I think the kits will serve us just fine.

Conquering fear of potties on the road

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For a while, this was the only potty L would use.

For a while, this was the only potty L would use.

We certainly have had our fair share of bathroom dramas away from home. Like the time L realized she was terrified of the “magic eye” automatic toilet flushers. Or the trip that R decided hand dryers are the corporeal manifestation of Lucifer. Or, most recently, the day that L followed a prodigious session on the toilet with a, “Look at my turd!” that echoed in the bathroom for what seemed like an eternity.

The list could go on for pages. And, when you’re traveling with little ones, it usually does. So, when a friend and loyal reader texted me last week asking for advice about how to deal with her daughter’s aversion to public toilets on the road, I sympathized completely.

Sadly, I didn’t have much to offer.

I mean, sure, there are all sorts of web sites (here and here, for instance) with formal advice from doctors—people who say things like “work on decreasing fears” and “model appropriate coping.”

My friend didn’t want any of that gobbledy-gook. She just wanted practical tips. She wanted to know what she could do to get her kid to make a @#!&@ pee without (wasting 30 minutes and) enduring a total meltdown.

I started by directing her to stuff I’ve written about the subject before (here and here). Then I told her the situation sucks but it gets better over time. I held back on my third piece of advice, largely because I didn’t want to discourage her. Instead (and now that this reader is back home), I’ll share it here: Pray for an accident.

Allow me to reiterate: I think an accident is the best way for a kid to overcome fear of using toilets in public. Because suffering the consequences of refusal is a powerful tool.

This opinion was forged out of first-hand experience with L, who grappled with this mortifying lesson during our first solo trip together (to Los Angeles).

I knew she had to go from the moment we arrived at LAX, but she simply refused to go. Then, on the plane, the flight attendant sensed what was up and offered to help; my kid refused again. Finally, at about 30,000 feet, somewhere between the animal crackers and the juice box, she couldn’t hold it any longer. I discovered the accident when I spotted a tiny puddle on her seat cushion. And I sprang into action.

Because I was worried about how she’d do with the whole potty-in-public thing, I was prepared, and had stashed a change of clothes in a Ziploc in the overhead bin, ready to go. As soon as I noticed pee on the seat, I grabbed the clothes, picked up L, and whisked her into the forward lavatory.

Yes, she was upset. No, she didn’t sit on that potty without a fight. But eventually, she did it. Somehow we even managed salvage the pee-soaked skirt for a trip to the dry-cleaner at home.

The rest, as they say, is history; since that day, despite minimal hemming and hawing every now and again, L hasn’t suffered the public toilets too much. She doesn’t necessarily like public potties, but she dislikes the embarrassment (and discomfort) of a public accident more. In the name of poetry, L even has started harassing her sister—who is still in diapers—about how it’s time for *her* to get with the potty program.

The lessons: Be prepared. Be patient. And weather an accident. No, this methodology is not ideal. But from personal experience, the only way to go from that situation is up.

How have your children overcome their issues of using the potty in public when traveling?

Keeping kids healthy on Spring Break vacation

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This led to some serious hand-washing.

This led to some serious hand-washing.

In most parts of the country, Spring Break starts up next week. That means tens of thousands of families will be jetting off to faraway places for vacation. With flu season still upon us, it also means families need to be extra-specially careful to make sure youngsters don’t get sick. As part of an ongoing partnership with Bundoo, I recently chatted about this subject with Dr. Sara Connolly, a Bundoo expert and board-certified pediatrician at Pediatric Partners in Palm Beach Gardens, Fla. Here are some of Connolly’s most important tips.

It’s not too late to vaccinate. It might be March, but Connolly said kids still can get flu vaccines. “Even though we’re at the tail end of flu season, we’re still seeing flu cases all over the country,” she said. “Considering a flu will sideline the whole family, if you haven’t gotten one yet, why risk it?”

Lots of hand washing. “When you’re sitting in the airport—or on the airplane, for that matter—your child has a knack for finding the dirtiest and grimiest spots,” joked Connolly. By washing hands regularly, however, your little one can make sure the germs he or she picks up don’t have the chance to wreak havoc. Connolly suggested carrying alcohol-free hand sanitizer as well—this comes in handy when you can’t find a sink and it’s not toxic if your littlest one manages to ingest it.

Baby in a bubble. Speaking of the littlest ones, Connolly added that it’s best to keep babies as far as possible from other travelers. Her advice: A sign in the stroller, that reads (something like): MY LITTLE BODY IS TOO SMALL FOR YOUR BIG GERMS; PLEASE DON’T TOUCH. If push comes to shove (literally), she suggested talking down strangers firmly. “You’re the parent,” she noted. “You should have no problem telling people, ‘Babies are adorable but please don’t touch them.’”

Stick to the routine. When families travel, we tend to get out of our routines. We keep the kids up for the 10 p.m. fireworks display at Disneyland. We eat lots of chicken fingers and French fries. Connolly said that while some families see these routine-busters as inevitable, the changes could compromise developing immune systems. “The younger your kids are, the more you should stick to your patterns from home,” she warned. “Even if it seems weird eating at 5:30 p.m. on vacation, doing that will keep their bodies operating normally.”

Fight bugs. Bugs are notorious germ carriers, which means it’s important to put your kids in the best position to avoid bug bites on the road. Connolly’s advice? Lots and lots of bug spray. For older kids, she suggested applying spray at least two or three times a day, and at least once after sundown. For babies, she recommended spraying the outside of the stroller—obviously, when your child is NOT inside. “Anything to keep the bugs away will help,” she said.

Sunscreen. Nothing ruins the mojo of a family trip like a nasty sunburn. To avoid this, Connolly suggested liberal application of sunscreen on everyone in the family, multiple times a day. She noted that sunscreen now is available in stick, spray, cream, lotion. For younger babies, there even are wipes that contain lotion. “The smaller the child is, the easier it is to get them protected,” Connolly said. She added that in addition to good sunscreen, parents should have kids wear sun-protective clothing to minimize the effects of the sun.

Before wrapping up our conversation, I asked Connolly how much of a difference we doting parents can make by wiping down the seat area on an airplane. Her response: In a nutshell, not much. “It certainly makes us feel better, but the reality is that virus particles that have been sneezed or coughed out onto the tray table or armrest likely are still alive and might get you sick,” she said. For parents who insist on doing the wipe-down (FWIW, that would be Powerwoman and me), Connolly noted that baby wipes always are the best approach, and that you do NOT want to use bleach wipes (lest one of your seatmates have an allergy). She also said that airplane bathrooms are the dirtiest places on the entire plane, and that wiping down those surfaces before you use them with your child always is a good idea. Another option that receives Connolly’s endorsement: PottyCover. Check ’em out.

What are your tips for keeping the kids healthy during travel for Spring Break?

Five funniest family travel moments

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The human pretzel-napper, a.k.a., Little R.

The human pretzel-napper, a.k.a., Little R.

Spend enough time traveling with youngsters and (in between those inevitable meltdowns) you’re bound to accumulate a handful of hilarious anecdotes. I scored a new No. 1 with Little R this week. It involved an F-bomb. That she uttered. In a crowded locker room.

We were on a daytrip here in the San Francisco Bay Area. The baby—who has become quite a water kid—wanted to go swimming, so I obliged her by tracking down a family-friendly gym with a pool we could use for a few hours one day. We showed up at the gym and she was super-excited to get in the water. As I led her into the men’s locker room, she decided to blurt out a new word.

“Fuck!” she yelled out in her 2-year-old voice. A bunch of (half-naked) men turned around. Then she yelled it again.

By the third time—the only time she yelled, “Fuck me!”—most of the guys were razzing me about the things kids learn these days, etc. Sure, I was mortified. But considering that she almost certainly picked up that language from me (after all, people, I *am* a transplanted New Yorker living and driving in California), all I could do was laugh (on the inside; thankfully I did not reinforce her comment positively by letting her see me laugh about it).

The incident got me thinking about some of the other incidents on my funniest family travel list.

No. 2 would have to be back in London this fall. The girls and I were on the 187 bus coming back from St. John’s Wood, and the two of them had just pigged out on their favorite frozen yogurt. They were happy. They were hyper. And they were in the mood to sing.

Simultaneously, the sisters broke out into a rollicking version of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” They belted it at the top of their lungs. And when they were done, all of the passengers applauded.

No. 3: The time L found a stash of “Gold Squares” (that’s my oh-no-gotta-think-of-something-quick nickname for foil-wrapped condoms) in my bag and used them to build a fort for a plastic dinosaur—at the dinner table in a hotel restaurant. (Pretty sure I don’t need to elaborate on this one.)

No. 4 takes us back to Maui, during the summer of 2012. We had gotten up early and left our hotel in Kaanapali to drive the Hana Highway. By the time we checked into our room at Travaasa Hana, the kids were zonked. L face-planted on her bed and passed out instantaneously. R, on the other hand, fought the nap valiantly for about 35 minutes.

Powerwoman and I listened to the entire episode from the lanai. Finally, when we heard silence, we went into the room to see what was up. We found the baby hunched over her own legs like a pretzel, fast asleep (see the image above). She slept like that for nearly 90 minutes.

It’s tough to settle on a fifth-funniest item for my list. Maybe it’s the time the Big Girl started talking to Bruce Willis (yes, THAT Bruce Willis) about flowers while in an elevator. Or the time she escaped the changing table at the California Academy of Sciences and went running around an aquarium naked. Whichever anecdote we decide to put in the No. 5 slot, one thing is certain: With our girls, we’ll never be wanting for new material.

What are some of your funniest family travel moments of all time?

Deep thoughts on education and travel

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To what extent would a pricey school prevent us from doing this?

Would a pricey school tuition prevent us from doing this?

The grownups of this family are in the throes of decision time over here. The question: Where to send L (and, eventually, R) for kindergarten (and beyond).

Settling on a final answer has been challenging. In California, we are lucky enough to have a host of options: straight public, public charter, private, private parochial, and more. Because Powerwoman and I are researchers by nature (translation: because we’re total overachievers), we have investigated, toured and applied to nearly a half-dozen schools. With one of the deadlines bearing down on us next week, it’s proverbial crunchtime.

Ultimately, our decision will be based on a variety of factors. There certainly have been lots of issues to consider, including educational philosophy, class size, arts programs, and more. Of course another biggie is cost—not only because some of the schools are expensive, but also because every dollar we spend on school is one less dollar we can spend on travel.

To some of you readers, this notion of potentially sacrificing travel for the sake of mainstream education might seem trivial (or, maybe, short-sighted). For us, however, it’s a serious issue—not necessarily a deal-breaker, but a biggie.

Travel is a huge part of how this family rolls. My wife and I are committed to broadening our daughters’ perspectives on the world by spending at least one month out of every year living in a new place. Heck, we just wrapped up a four-month stint of living in London! We’re also committed to exploring through shorter trips, as well. Case in point: Next month, we’re headed to Yosemite National Park as a family for the first time ever.

From a practical perspective, Powerwoman and I also work to weave travel into the overall fabric of our girls’ education. This means our trips incorporate learning at every turn. We don’t just go to the beach and sloth. We go to the beach, and by DOING, EXPERIENCING and EMBRACING new things over the course of the day, we share lessons about geography and biology and botany and history and a whole host of other disciplines. We also strive to incorporate the journey into the overall experience; yes, those 6-hour road trips and ten-hour plane trips are challenging, but they also are great opportunities to bond with our girls.

In short, travel isn’t something we’re willing to sacrifice. Which means we’ve been thinking long and hard about putting ourselves into a position that could endanger our resources to do it.

This blog post isn’t the forum to diagram our answer—how and where we choose to school our kids is a private decision and one we’ll make privately. Nevertheless, because this is a travel blog, because travel is such a huge part of our world, I thought it was important to share some of our biggest concerns here, and solicit input and feedback from you.

What’s your take? How would you reconcile this conundrum? If you’re a parent who already has been there and done that, which way did you go and why? If you’re currently dealing with these issues, what are the issues that are keeping you up at night? Sharing your opinions on this subject could help Powerwoman and me—all of us, really—make the most informed decisions possible. I’m all ears.

All Princesses, All the Time

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My girls, en route to Kensington Palace

My girls, en route to Kensington Palace

Princesses are a big theme in our house these days. The girls are obsessed with “Sofia the First.” Every morning, they come up with princess nicknames for themselves—nicknames that Powerwoman and I are supposed to honor until we hear otherwise.

Of course L and R each also have (far too many) princess dresses, which they wear with pride.

There are days when the princess theme is so prevalent in our house that I think the children truly see themselves as royalty. What this means to them, however, is something we grown-ups still are trying to divine.

Clearly it means something. During our time in London, L requested special trips into Kensington Gardens so we could gaze upon Kensington Palace. The way she spoke of these trips, it seemed she was convinced we were going to run into Duchess Kate Middleton, strike up a conversation with her and get invited in for tea. (In case you’re wondering, no, oddly enough, this never happened.)

I’d be lying if I told you I haven’t spent time wondering what our daughters would do if they ever actually had the chance to be princess. These waking fantasies have increased in anticipation of the upcoming DreamWorks Animation film, Mr. Peabody and Sherman.

In the film, P&S take a most excellent, Bill and Ted-like adventure and travel through time with the help of a device called a WABAC (pronounced “way-back”) machine. DreamWorks is partnering with one of my clients, Expedia, on a promo for (and giveaway in conjunction with) the film; as part of that, I and my ExpediaViewfinder team members have gone from travel bloggers to time-travel bloggers until the movie debuts March 7.

Some of my colleagues have written on the blog about using a WABAC to travel to Paris in the 1920s, Egypt in the 1950s and Klondike Alaska in the heart of the Gold Rush. My post, about transporting back to 1850s Lahaina (on Maui), is here.

In the meantime, I’ve got another time-travel daydream: Because of my girls, I’d take the family back to Medieval times, to the era of princesses.

Back then (we’re talking the 1200s, people), just about every daughter of a high-ranking noble was considered a princess. They practically lived in fancy dresses. They had tea. They lived the high life. And they lived privileged lives at court—dancing and laughing and doing all the stuff my girls (likely) think princesses do.

Upon returning to this era, I’d hope to find a princess who would be willing to take L and R under her royal wing and teach them how to dance the carol, survive a formal dinner and treat others with dignity and respect.

Of course I’d also hope to connect my girls with a princess who had lots of dresses with lots of tulle (preferably in their sizes).

Heck, it’d be swell to find a princess willing to share her chambermaid and give my kids a makeover.

I know, the chauvinistic and misogynistic Middle Ages were no place for a modern girl. And I’ve done enough research on the subject to understand that most of these princesses were horribly unhappy—with their fathers, with their husbands (or their betrothed), and with their lives. But here’s the thing: I wouldn’t use the WABAC to transform my kids into Medieval princesses forever; I’d just want them to experience a taste of princess-hood. For a finite period of time.

I’d hope that like Peabody & Sherman (or Bill and Ted, for that matter), my kids would return from their time-travel extravaganza with one-of-a-kind insight and knowledge into the past, and a renewed appreciation for the present.

After all, if they’re going to be this into princesses for the next few years, we might as well put them in a position to base their passions on fact.

If you had a WABAC machine, where would you visit, and what time period would you visit there?

Wanderlust, Sesame Street Style

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The song that sparked decades of wanderlust.

The song that sparked decades of wanderlust.

We humans never are too young to experience wanderlust. Which means it’s perfectly understandable that Sesame Street incorporated “Travel Tips” segments into its shows from the 1980s and 1990s. And that it’s perfectly reasonable for a modern-day family travel blogger to play them for his kids.

This, of course, is what led me this week to share with the girls “Antarctica,” a classic Sesame Street jingle off the “We Are All Earthlings” record from 1990.

I admit it, I’m a HUGE fan of old-school (Jim) Henson stuff. So when the girls expressed interest in them after we got back from London, I hit the archives to find some of the best bits I remembered from my childhood. “Earthlings” was No. 1 on the list. A close No. 2: The tune about the continent at the South Pole, a ditty that originally was advertised as part of the “Sesame Street Travel Tips” series.

Think of the song as a kid-oriented advertisement for a trip to Antarctica. In it, two Anything Muppets team up with a group of penguins to sing about the snowy, icy, and chilly destination where people “dine on blubber spread on toast” and “nights…are six months long.”

All the while, Wolfgang the Seal provides background trumpet music.

In the end, after the warning to not “be left out OF the cold,” all of the characters are blown away by cold arctic winds.

While this may not be a perfect picture of what life on Antarctica is really like, it certainly teaches kids about the destination, and certainly will pique their interest. Just like all age-appropriate travel stories should.

In any event, my girls have heard the song and they love it. Here (embedded) is the video. And below that, in all of their glory, are the lyrics.

If you’re sick of being hot,
Why not try a place that’s not: Antarctica.
Where all you see is snow and ice
The new vacation paradise: Antarctica.
Let seals and penguins be your hosts
And dine on blubber spread on toast
You’ll love the icy barren coasts of Antarctica
 
Don’t get much sun, it doesn’t matter,
You’ll love the way your teeth will chatter in Antarctica
Nightlife’s great, you can’t go wrong
‘Cause nights down here are six months long in Antarctica
If you like it when it’s snowing
And the icy winds are blowing
Just head south and keep on going to Antarctica
 
Well there’s no hotel here, hey, just bring a tent
It’s really swell here on the frozen continent.
Want to shudder, shake, and shiver
Come to us, ‘cause we deliver…Antarctica
 
Put your summer plans on hold
Don’t be left out of the cold of Antarctica
You say the kids are out of school
Forget the beach, forget the pool
It’s really, really, really cool in Antarctica!

When Free Is Best

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Looking down on the (family-friendly) trout count.

Looking down on the (family-friendly) trout count.

Here in the heart of California’s Wine Country, we locals have plenty of options to spend big bucks on a family-friendly day out and about. We can take the tour at the Safari West animal park in Santa Rosa. We can rent a cabine near the day-use pool at Francis Ford Coppola Winery in Geyserville. Heck, we even can hop over the Mayacamas Mountains and pay to see the inside of the castle at Castello di Amorosa winery in Calistoga.

Again, all of these activities kick ass for families. They also all require at least a few hours’ worth of cash.

Sometimes, however, the best options for those of us with young kids are the options that cost nothing at all. Case in point: Our family’s experience earlier today at the Milt Brandt Visitors’ Center and Fish Hatchery near Lake Sonoma in our hometown of Healdsburg.

We went for the trout; despite our drought-like conditions here, the Steelhead are running and I figured at the very least we might spot some of those buggers as they swam up the fish ladder toward the hatchery itself. What we encountered, however, was far more incredible—and something (at least) L will remember for the rest of her life.

If you who don’t know much about fisheries, hatcheries like this one breed fish and release a certain number back into the wild every year in an attempt to control (read: stabilize) population growth. As part of this process, scientists keep tabs of the fish that return to see how many are repeat customers.

This means every year researchers tap a small sample of returning fish to a) check and see if they’ve been tagged previously, and b) keep track of what percentage of them are females.

At Lake Sonoma, they open this process to the public. And we managed to luck into seeing it first-hand.

To a large part, our good fortune was attributable to being in the right place at the right time; when we arrived at the hatchery catwalks (most people look down from here), a group was witnessing the count down on the laboratory floor. When they left, I ignorantly yelled down and asked the biologists if we could be next.

Technically, the answer should have been a resounding no. But because we were just four, and because our littler two found the process fascinating, the researchers let us down.

There on the floor, face-to-face with trout the size of their torsos, the girls were terrified and enthralled at the same time. R kept pointing to the creatures, yelling, “Big fishy!” and “Why isn’t that fishy swimming in the ocean?” L observed intently with her mouth agape, occasionally requesting to move back when she thought a flailing fish might splash her (she does NOT like to get splashed).

We watched as the biologists did their jobs, using a standard-issue hole-puncher to punch holes in the tails of first-time visitors, measuring the specimens, then separating the fish by sex and launching each sex down a different chute (the chutes fed two different holding pens).

The four of us stayed inside the hatchery for the better part of an hour. The girls likely could have stayed longer. But the researchers had to go on lunch.

We spent the rest of our visit walking up and down the fish ladder, ogling fish as they swam upstream and listening to chirping birds in the unseasonably warm morning air. Later, we walked across the street to an often-deserted playground, where, after the girls ran around like maniacs, the four of us had a picnic lunch.

All told, the experience set us back $16—the price for two stuffed birds in the Visitor Center gift shop. Considering how much we all learned about trout, considering how much the girls have talked about the day all afternoon, I’d say it was a great way to spend a day in Wine Country.

What are some of your favorite free (or budget) family activities near your home?