Deborah Halverson's Blog

While its true that my head may be spinning because I’m trying to pack a family of five’s luggage for a 1-year stay in England (which will commence in 31 hours!), it’s also entirely possible that my head is spinning because I’ve spent an extraordinary amount of time on merry-go-rounds lately.

Actually, the proper term might just be “carousels.” It’s certainly the more regal term. Regardless, my boys and I have been on, oh, say a dozen of them this summer, all around San Diego. If you come to San Diego or if you already live here, you must check out our favorites: Read More…

The best toy store on the planet is located just a stone’s throw from the U.S./Mexico border. The store is called ToyTown, and it has the most toy buses we’ve ever encountered. And that means a lot to parents whose three-year-old son introduces himself to people as “Bus Driver.” And ToyTown’s prices are C-H-E-A-P, a fact that also means a lot to parents who have three-year-old triplets.

Getting to ToyTown is easy—you just drive toward Mexico and lean left a few feet shy of the border, sending your car into Read More…

Back when I was in college, I suggested a walk on the beach for my third date with a cute biology major. The setting sun, the surf brushing the sand, a little hand holding, some smooching perhaps… it sounded like a lovely evening. My date had other ideas.

“See this?” He lifted a dripping blob of seaweed up to my face. Read More…

The Halverson’s summer tour of San Diego’s beaches moves to La Jolla. Seal Beach, to be precise. Okay, it’s actually called Casa Beach (or Children’s Pool), but I prefer Seal Beach, because that’s what it is. For some reason that can only be explained by Mother Nature, a colony of seals have staked out a sheltered stretch of beach in La Jolla and will not be moved. I love having them there. They are gorgeous and amazing and a welcome sight for curious three-year-olds. But they are also troublemakers. Read More…

We can’t go to the zoo anymore. I’m crushed. Truly, emotionally aching. For almost three years now, the Halversons have hit the World Famous San Diego Zoo for a couple of hours each week. In the beginning, I pushed two babies in the double Bob jogging stroller and strapped a third to my chest. Then, when they were two years old, I ditched the stroller and walked the boys through the flamingo, monkey, gorilla, and petting zoo areas using a walking rope. Within months of that, the boys were walking freely at my side with white stickers on their chests that proclaimed my cell phone number in huge block numbers. My boys have grown up with the zoo, earning their independence and learning that they can go to fun public places with me if they can prove themselves trustworthy enough to stick by my side on their own. For me, the zoo is synonymous with my trio’s early childhood. And now the zoo is gone. Read More…

This week my trio and I hung out at a former nudist colony. We were fully clothed, mind you, as were all the other tourists, but I still giggled for knowing this little secret about Balboa Park’s lovely Zoro Garden, now a carefully cultivated home to scores of monarch, sulfur, and swallowtail butterflies. With all the butterfly-friendly flowers and bright yellow wings flitting about, you’d never guess that bare bums were the sight du jeur here seventy years ago. My, the skeletons in the closet of Paradise. Read More…