This Guy Is 10!

How is it possible that Oskar is ten years old?! 

While it feels like just yesterday he was a baby, then toddler, then younger child, Oskar really is growing up and growing into his own.  

To celebrate his birthday, he wanted to cook his own birthday dinner: no help, no input, no support from the parents or Alva.  He flipped through our cookbooks and selected the dishes he wanted to cook: a unique take on bolognese with homemade pasta for dinner and a fruit tart for dessert.  He made the shopping list and created a plan to have everything ready for Wednesday’s dinner.  

With a full day of school on his actual birthday, I encouraged him to at least make the sauce in advance to limit the chaos on the actual day. We therefore prepped the sauce on Monday (Memorial Day) which included a trip to Chinatown to buy Doubanjiang sauce for the Chinese bolognese and a full afternoon of chopping, mixing, sautéing and simmering.  I was 100% supportive of letting him do everything but was also 100% happy that he asked me to help. 

We opened presents in typical Breuer fashion Wednesday morning and I worked from home that day to ensure I was on standby to support him once again in the kitchen.  Martin and Alva headed to gymnastics after school and Oskar and I had the afternoon to make his birthday feast. We made homemade pie crust for dessert and homemade pasta dough for the pasta, we prepped the cucumber salad and pie filling, we preheated the oven and reheated the sauce.  

Oskar and I enjoyed breaks in the cooking frenzy by playing Dr Mario and Cruisin America on our old school Nintendo all while rocking out to his Spotify playlist. It was pure mother son bonding. 

My parents arrived around six and Alva and Martin came home shortly afterwards. And we somehow timed everything perfectly.  The noodles were run through the pasta maker, the fruit tart was cooling on the counter and we were ready to enjoy Oskar’s feast. 

The overall evening and experience will definitely be a core memory for me.  And while I have loved each phase of Oskar’s childhood, this one might be my favorite so far.

A Mess on Memorial Day

 Oskar wanted to compete in a mountain bike race Memorial Day weekend (aka his birthday weekend) and Alva was down to join him, so this year we spent Memorial Day weekend in Nevada City. 

Martin thought it would be fun to camp for the weekend, but I wasn’t super excited about it (I was thinking about how cold it was last time we were in Nevada City in October) so I put myself in charge of the accommodations. Let’s just say, I failed both on the accommodations and the overall trip planning. 

Hotel and AirBnB accommodations were nearly impossible to find in a reasonable price range so I booked what looked like a decent hotel for Friday and Saturday night with the plans to drive home on Sunday after the race. 

We picked up the kids from school that Friday afternoon and started the long weekend… unfortunately, the start was a bit rocky. With the race on Sunday there was no need to drive up on Friday after school, in the middle of rush hour and long weekend traffic. Unfortunately we realized this three hours into our drive up Friday after school in the middle of rush hour and long weekend traffic. Six hours later, we made it to Nevada City.

From there things went downhill and fast. Our accommodations lived up to its reviews… unfortunately there were two distinct types of reviews and we got the worse end. Some reviews raved about the newly renovated rooms and friendly staff. Others included notes of disgust, pictures of holes in the walls, and mention of bed bugs. Our accommodations made the negative reviews look neutral at best. Our one-bedroom cabin supposedly slept four, but the pull out sofa whose mattress was merely a chain link fence wrapped in fabric (Oskar actually used that to describe the experience of trying to sleep on it) was not an option. The smell of stale cigarettes, years old mold and general sadness was overwhelming. The holes in the wall were only slightly worse than the patched holes with mismatched paint jobs.  And while we didn’t see any bugs, we did find a random wet spot on the threadbare carpet upon arrival. Alva refused to sleep on the pull out so Martin and Oskar were relegated to the front room while Alva and I had the bed. Martin lasted two hours before heading out to the car to attempt to sleep a few hours before daybreak. 

By morning, it actually seemed worse. And so we did what most would do. We packed up and checked out early. We weren’t the only ones ending our stay after one night. The lady behind us was also checking out after finding her room unclean and Chinese food in the fridge. While she was out of luck for any refund (she had booked through a third party) we had booked directly with the hotel and were thankfully able to get our money back for the second night and a $50 credit applied to our first night's stay.

From there things started to look up or at least less dirty. While every other hotel and every campsite within a 20 minute drive were all fully booked for Saturday night, we managed to snag a room at the Best Western in Grass Valley thanks to a no show cancellation and an incredibly helpful woman at the front desk. The hotel room at the Best Western was a heavenly change from the previous night's hellscape. 

We had a relaxed day at the lake (Martin snuck in a nap on the picnic blanket), we had a look at the race course for the next day (Alva enjoyed a nap in the car) and then a very early dinner at the brewery in Nevada City.  With two comfortable beds, clean sheets and an odorless room, Saturday night it felt like we were sleepy at the Ritz. 

The race on Sunday was intense on both extremes. Oskar placed first for his age group and had a better time than a handful of kids in the next age bracket. Alva and Martin on the other hand were the last to finish in her wave (and might have finished after a handful of riders from wave 2). Come to find out the trail was incredibly technical and it was amazing she was able to finish at all. While she might have been unhappy during the ride, she was so proud to have finished. 

We enjoyed lunch at the race and then made our way home for a relaxing Sunday night and day of chores and housework on Monday. 

Side Note: my commentary about the hotel is not to complain or be negative. In fact I wanted to write about it since I was so impressed by how well we, together as a family, handled the bad situation and the ability to pivot especially when, for a few hours Saturday morning, we didn’t know where we would sleep that night. Yes it was stressful, but we conquered the challenge together. Also side note: it is a good cautionary tale to book hotel reservations direct and to really check the reviews… Apparently the glowing five star reviews were all from local tour guides who most likely were paid or compensated for their reviews.

Bobsledding in May

Once again I have had the chance to do something completely new and unique compliments of a work offsite. This past week, I got to go bobsledding on the Olympic course in Utah (site of the 2002 and upcoming 2034 Olympics). 

Before I tell my story, here are a few bobsledding fun facts: 

• There are currently only 16 bobsled tracks in operations today, three of which are in the US and four are in Germany. This might explain Germany’s dominance of the sport every four years at the Winter Olympics
• An Olympic bobsled course is generally 1,200 to 1,500 meters long, must include a vertical drop of at least 100 meters and must have at least 15 curves, a straight section and a labyrinth. After that it is up to each location to design what they want. The one in Utah is 1 mile long with 15 turns. 
• Most people don’t start as bobsledders. Athletes from other sports like rugby, football and track and field typically transition over to bob sled after their first careers are over. As a result the average age of a bobsledder is 28 years old with top athletes still competing in their 40s.  This past Olympics, Elana Meyers Taylor (USA) won the gold medal at 41 years old.
• And finally, the gold medal run time for bobsledding in the 2002 Olympics was 46 seconds for men and 48.8 seconds for women 

And now on to my story. 

On Wednesday, our group of 40 headed up from Salt Lake City to the Utah Olympic Park where visitors can bobsled, mountain sled and slide down the ski jump on an inner tube. 

Without thinking about my motion sickness or general lack of love for rollercoaster-like things, I signed up for the bobsled. These limitations and concerns were only pointed out to me on the drive up the mountain. And at that point, there was no way I was backing out. 

Before actually going down the course we had a “training” which consisted of a veteran bobsledder giving us our pre-run briefing at the top of the hill. To set the stage, imagine every action movie out there that includes a preflight briefing of elite fighter pilots that will save the day. We were all seated in folding chairs arranged in five rows of 10 chairs on a concrete slab with the bobsled track and a decommissioned bobsled just behind our instructor. Our instructor completed the experience: he had all of the swagger from an officer from Top Gun, complete with a million dollar white teeth smile, tan face, buzz cut hair and fun commentary about g-force pressures on your body and how your neck will turn you into a bobble head if not properly positioned. From the briefing we then got into groups of three to run the course (I say three since it was three guests plus a driver for each run).  I got teamed up with the head of EMEA, Emma, and a Brit who now lives in New York, John M. 

While the groups lined up and the first bobsled got into position, I had the sudden urge to go pee.  A fact that everyone made fun of until it got closer to their turn and suddenly I didn’t look so foolish.  Back in line, my group was quickly reaching the front. Nerves and anxiety and a newly empty bladder that still needed to pee were set aside for logistics: the balaclavas that we wore under the helmets gave it the levity needed and the very close sitting situation once in the bobsled led to more than a few off-color jokes (gotta love the Brits) 

Buckled in, required position achieved and we were off.  As promised the first three turns were mellow and that of a state fair roller coaster.  Turn four heated things up and by turn five we were maxing out at 71 miles per hour.  

And after 58 seconds it was over. I got out a little woozy, with weak knees, a little punch drunk, and a strong desire to do it again.

At 59.7 seconds we were only 10 seconds off of the gold time. And at 45 years old, there may still be hope!

In case you are interested you can check out my run on their youtube channel here. Fast forward to minute 26, I am in the grey sweatshirt with a black vest.

A Tour of Friends

It seems like every year in the spring I come out of hibernation and go on a whirlwind tour of seeing all of my friends. This year was no exception: Dallas, Napa, Carmel, Healdsburg, Santa Rosa, happy hours, and Valkyries Game with school. Once again, I think I might have overdone it.   Will I do it again next year… probably. 

Kris Kar #5 in Dallas

A Santa Rosa Run-In

Happy Hour with the OG

Carmel Valley with the SLO Girls

Healdsburg with my First Mom Friends