The Yes Zone, Thanksgiving Edition

It's Thanksgiving Day, and I'm thankful for the good folks at the Los Angeles Auto Show for opening their doors today.

On a day when just about everything else is closed, save the local playground, I got to take both kids to a giant "yes" zone (which I've written about previously here: it means a place where your kids can pretty much do whatever they want without getting into danger or trouble, and you don't have to keep saying "no" to them).

Basically, the annual Auto Show is a few "ginormous" rooms lined in plush carpet, full of shiny, gleaming, brand spankin' new cars, most of which you -- and your kids -- can go inside. Thing 1 is already something of a car fanatic, thanks to his favorite movie, CARS. Thing 2 is game to go along where there are bright lights, pretty colors, and buttons to push. The Auto Show is jam-packed full of opportunities to clamber, climb, pretend to drive, and push buttons. They did it all, and even better, there was an unexpected bonus: they got to ride around in car-shaped strollers between the exhibit halls and the various cars on display.

There was one glitch with the bonus, however: even though we'd let Thing 1 and Thing 2 select their individual car strollers, about halfway through the experience, it was noticed that one had a safety belt to click and the other didn't. All hell broke loose as Thing 1 wanted to trade cars with Thing 2, since she had the safety belt in hers. Suddenly his red car wasn't nearly as appealing as her yellow car. He found scratches to object to, and then said his was dirty. He pitched a fit and demanded a switch. We tried negotiating a trade with Thing 2. She agreed to switch at the Ferrari exhibit, but only briefly. Soon Thing 1 pitched a fit again. Late Blooming Mom tried cranking out the "You get what you get, and you don't get upset" rule, to no avail. Dad got the contents of two yogurt "squeezers" into Thing 1 in the vain hope that nutrients would turn him more rational. But by then, trading with his sister was no longer his ardent desire. He'd spotted another stall full of car strollers, and was adamantly campaigning for a full trade-in.

Probably we should've stood our ground. But it's Thanksgiving Day, and we'd already had it marred by one fit. So Dad managed to cajole a trade-in, and suddenly Thing 1 was climbing into a new green car stroller. From there, it was on to the hybrids and electric cars, and lunch, which wasn't much of a lunch -- a few bites of overcooked burgers, raisin bran cereal from which Thing 1 insisted on eating only the raisins -- but at least, as Dad sarcastically pointed out, it was expensive. (Memo to self: don't be lazy, pack a lunch from home next time.) To get them out of the hall and back to our own, decidedly un-pimped but reliable ride (a ten-year-old Camry, for those curious), we divided a kid's sized portion of strawberry/vanilla swirled frozen yogurt into several smaller portions, and shared.

On balance, though, it was a great outing. The kids were thrilled. And save the stroller trade-in shenanigans, it must be said that a good time was had by all. Yay for the yes zone, once again.

In Praise Of The "Yes" Zone

Familiar with the concept of the "yes" zone?

As a Late Blooming Mom, I learned of this term only recently, but I've quickly learned to love it.

A "yes" zone is defined as any place in which you don't have to constantly tell your children "no," as in, "No, you can't do FILL IN THE BLANK," the blank generally being something dangerous, unhealthy, or not age-appropriate. In a "yes" zone, they can do pretty much whatever they please. And if they ask if they can do something, you can keep saying yes.

Taking your kids to a "yes" zone is a wonderfully relaxing, fun experience: a time to enjoy your kids, not bark at them or worry about saving them from something could mean a trip to the emergency room and stitches. You don't have to argue with them about whether or not you'll buy them anything. The only time you may find yourself saying "no" is when it's time to leave, and they want to stay.

God bless the visionary folks at Los Angeles' Skirball Cultural Center for installing NOAH'S ARK, the ultimate preschooler's "yes" zone. Today was our second visit there, and it was blissful. Yes, it's in a museum, but everything in that exhibit is hands-on; touching is not only allowed, it's encouraged. There are rope nets and ladders to climb, that lead to cozy kid-sized balconies and nooks in which to wave down to parents. There are mechanical animals that can be hand-operated with cranks, machines at which kids can make rain, thunder, lightning and wind, a huge toy ark into which toy animals can be loaded, small cabins in which pretend food is stored in baskets, and even make-believe poop the kids can scoop. There's an arts-and-crafts room staffed and loaded with project supplies (we traced stencils of birds, cut the shapes out of magazines, and glue-sticked them to the table). There's an outdoor water feature, a mist fountain that makes rainbows ... the one place where our kids said "no" to us when we wanted to run through it (apparently it was a bit scary for our three-and-a-half year-olds). And there was even a live show in the amphitheater, in which a storyteller told us about traditions in Africa, played African percussion instruments, and imitated various wild animals, which prompted Thing 1 to exclaim, "He's so silly!" Blessedly, there are also snacks available.

I can think of few days with the kids as conflict-free as this one.

That's the beauty of the "yes" zone. The kids choose their activities within the zone, but they're all safe, fun, and relatively restful for mom and dad. Sure, we did have a moment when Thing 2 decided the exhibit's elephant, which made quite a loud sound when kids pulled a rope to set it off, was too scary. But she was soon pacified when removed from the immediate vicinity of said elephant, and brought into the arts and crafts area.

We managed to escape without the kids asking for a toy in the gift shop, where we allowed them to play for a few minutes. And by the time we left, they were so tuckered out they fell asleep on the brief car-ride home. They woke up briefly when we transferred them into their beds for nap time, but they soon succumbed to sweet dreams, as did Late Blooming Mom: napping when your kids nap is another mom secret I've come to learn.

"Yes" zones aren't easy to find. Our local playground is full of minor perils (e.g., running in front of a swing and getting hit, falling off the monkey bars) and in a hot month like this one, liable to leave mom or kid suffering from heatstroke. Most museums have very limited kid areas, or are meant for kids far older than preschoolers. Indoor play spaces are notorious for being closed for private birthday parties on the weekends, when we need them most.

But when you do find a "yes" zone, it's like taking a mini-vacation, without having to pack more than the usual (sippies, snacks, spare clothes).

Thanks again to the folks who brought us NOAH'S ARK. Before we left, I spied above us the white dove who brings the branch back to the ark after the storm has passed. After the stormy mornings we've had of late -- trying to get out the door for camp on time -- this was a welcome respite.