Cabin Fever

Sometimes a break is just the thing. Our little getaway was great--snow all over, but temps in the 60s during the day. The cabin we rented was a sweet little rental owned by a Palm Springs couple who run a weird dog boutique, and it was perfect--a cozy red cottage full of 1950s details. They named it "Awesome Views," which, corny, but at least it turned out to be true--the back deck looked right out at the ski slopes of Big Bear mountain.

Cole immediately scoped out the backyard:



Riis was fairly unimpressed with the scenery:



The inside was all warm woods and furnishings that were worn enough so we didn't feel like we had to be careful. The kids loved the basket full of cards and poker chips. The mess made us feel even more at home. (We are also horrible people who didn't bother to put the cards back in any sort of order. That basket is now a jumble of Uno, Old Maid, and six other decks of cards all shuffled together.)





Our favorite place to hang out was the bar, stocked with vintage glassware and kitchy signs. Josh labeled it the saloon, and we had dinner there every night, followed by cocoa (with marshmallows, of course).



That's Josh playing bartender to Cole, who was spinning a yarn about finding clues with Fred and Scooby.




The bathroom had a pretty standard shower with two sliding doors. For some reason, the kids were delighted by it, and played in it, wet or dry, the entire time we were there. Cole's latest thing is to make "soup" with soap, so he sat in there forever, going to town with his little bucket and an old bottle of baby shampoo.



I loved the kitchen and the adorable stove. I pretended I was living in a farmhouse our first night there, standing over a bubbling pot of spaghetti and meatballs.



The highlight of Cole's trip might have been snow tubing, but I wouldn't rule out the web that Josh made him from kitchen string. But man, it made Riis crazy. She'd be waddling along, minding her own business, then—wham—run into a string and fall down. She made her displeasure known, and the web came down after lunch.
*In the interest of fairness, though, she was a joy this trip. I don't know if it was the break in routine or what, but she was funny (experimenting with a new, scrunched-up face meant to crack us up), sweet (lots of full-blown hugs, her little arms reaching around my neck) and talkative ("Mama, shoes! Go!").



We did get outside, of course. The town surrounds a lake, and one side is bordered by national forest land, so it was easy to pick a trail and tromp around.