Havasupai

This fall break a friend and I (along with her mom and her mom's friend) took a 6 day trip (that's right, with no kids!) backpacking down Havasupai Canyon near the Grand Canyon. It was quite a journey to get there (2 nights and 17 hours in the car later), we finally got to the trailhead and backpacked down 8 miles. In the canyon live the Havasupai tribe, Native Americans that were forced to live on the "reservation" created in the canyon for the last 130 or so years. There are no roads, so everything that enters and exits the canyon does so by foot, mule, or helicopter. It was quite an experience to see the people's way of life at the bottom of the canyon. Our main reason for going, though, were the AMAZING waterfalls.

For our trip I got to be just me, not mommy, wife, career lady, or house cleaner. That's the longest I've been away from my kids and family, ever. The first couple days were hard, but I finally found my rhythm and was able to let go of thoughts of home and to-do lists and worries. I was able to totally live in the present and simply observe the scenery around me, listen to the sounds of our feet walking, and worry only about blisters.

When I got back home, Mark asked me what the best part of my trip was. I responded, "The waterfalls and a renewed love of backpacking." I've found myself at the library perusing the backpacking Colorado books and other adventure travel writing. That is the thing that has been hardest for me since we've had kids--any sort of extensive adventurous travel is essentially out of the question right now. The kids just aren't old enough to walk far, to endure long plane rides, to wait for hours in a train station, to eat new foods. And I can't leave the kids for weeks on end while I leave to galavant around the world or in the backcountry. I find myself constantly pondering how I might make it work with two little ones and realize over and over that it's just not something that will work right now. That I need to hold onto, but push pause on, those dreams for a little while, until I can leave the kids for longer or bring them along...but I digress.

Below are some pictures that do no justice to the amazing scenes we saw on our trip. The weather was beautiful the whole time except when we were hoping to swim in the waterfalls. The landscape was just so dramatic because of the contrast of colors--red rocks, green plants, and blue water and sky. It was as if I just couldn't take in enough of it.

Fall Fun in Colorado

One thing I love about fall in Colorado is the weather. One minute it's warm and sunny, and the next it feels like winter. It keeps me on my toes, and I never get bored. This weekend we had just such weather. Below are pictures from Friday afternoon, and then Saturday morning. As usual, I'm behind the camera.

Carter said he wanted to jump in a pile of leaves, and since we cut down our big tree in our front yard last year, we had to go to a neighbor's house to offer to rake their leaves so we could jump in them. Carter loved it. Cameron wasn't so sure about the whole thing.


Saturday morning, about 15 hours later, we woke up to a bit of snow. Carter immediately wanted to go sledding. I had to convince him that there wasn't quite enough for that, but that we could still get all our snow clothes on and go play. It was all followed by hot chocolate, of course.

I wonder what this week will bring.

Wow, it's been awhile . . .

. . . since I last posted. Work is in full swing and I've had a birthday. Yep, no longer a twenty-something as my profile used to say. Carter has started preschool and Cameron's got all sorts of new tricks. Below are some photos to get us all back up to date. The pictures are in reverse order because of the way I uploaded them. Think of it as going back in time.

My family came to visit for my 30th birthday, and we went on a hike to see the beautiful aspens in the mountains. Carter finally likes smiling for the camera.

The trees were absolutely gorgeous. And not a cloud in the sky.

"Papa" and Carter found every rock they could to jump off of.

For my dad's birthday, Laura and I took him fishing. Laura even caught a fish that we ate for dinner.

Carter had his very own fishing pole, but instead of a hook on the end, he had a rubber worm. He loved it.

Laura and Carter had some good bonding time over rootbeer.

A couple weeks ago we found a new climbing spot with no approach. It was a beautiful day. Here Mark's attempting a 5.11. It was a bit tough.

We went to an end-of-summer festival at a local park and we got to walk around the hot air balloons they were inflating. Carter and Cameron loved how big they were.

At the end of summer we found a great park that had fountains the kids could play in. Cameron was a little tentative, but Carter loved stepping on the spraying water.

Over Labor Day weekend a good friend from high school, Nicole, came to visit. Her whole family came out, and we went on a hike in Evergreen. It sprinkled just a bit, but the weather held out pretty well.

The bike trailer that sits under our deck has become a favorite place for the two boys to play.

Does this picture just make you cringe? Amazingly, no one got konked on the head.

At the end of August we took a family camping trip to a place we'd never been before.

Cameron loved sitting in the big camp chairs.

Carter liked playing in the tent.

Carter's first day of preschool. He wasn't much in the mood for picture-taking. He goes right down the hall from where I work. My favorite part of the day is when his class walks by my class on their way to recess, and Carter peeks his head in to say hi.

Trip to the Outer Banks

I can't believe I haven't posted since July. Time has slipped away since I've returned to work. It's taken me awhile to finally get all the pictures together from our trip to the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Mark's family and lots of relatives rented a house in Northern Shores, so we spent the week showing the boys what it meant to go on a beach vacation. They both loved it, of course. Below are some pictures from our trip.

We drove north a bit to see the wild horses on the beach. It's amazing how close they came.

Cameron often ended up naked by the end of our beach time so we could get all the sand out of everywhere.

Carter and Mark loved chasing the waves.

Cameron helped us bury Carter in the sand.

Carter and I chased the edge of the water.

Mark tried to ride some waves on the boogy board.

Cameron loved to watch us play wii and stole the remote when he could. Since then, we've gotten our own wii and play it almost every night.

In the evenings we played corn hole, and Carter liked to watch from the back of Brian's truck.

Here's the whole lot of us that spent the week together. The kids loved having people everywhere to play with them.

Home

(The view of the sunset out our front door)

After a lovely week at the Outer Banks of North Carolina, our family is home and beginning to find the rhythm of regular life again. Although I would love to share our adventures of the trip, I accidentally left my camera in my brother-in-law's car, so I'll save my stories and pictures for another post. For now, a few thoughts on coming home.

I lived on the East coast for a good 12 or so years, if you count my time in Nashville, so I know humidity. But having now lived in Colorado for the past 7, I know it doesn't suit me. Mark and I found ourselves commenting more than once on the way back home how much we were looking forward to returning to our dry Colorado air. And that's when I was reminded how much I really love where I live.

I know that dry air doesn't sound like much to those of you who've never been here during the summer, but it's amazing. It's a cool 65 or so degrees in the morning. And the sky is amazing because it's just so blue. The day slowly heats up and you can begin to shed your morning layers (yes, we wear layers even in summer) as the sun peaks and heats the earth. Swimming is delightful because the water cools your skin so quickly as it evaporates in the dry air.

And then there are the evenings. Bugs are hard to come by, sunsets are always amazing because of the lingering clouds from the frequent afternoon cloud bursts, and the chimenea calls your name as the air cools once again to that temperature that is just chilled enough to make you want to cuddle.

It's these things I looked forward to as our plane headed towards Denver. But not only the weather. Also the sense of home. A place where all our family comes together to be with each other. To find space together and apart. To come and go and pass one another in these familiar rooms and hallways. Where we brush up against each other as we move, as we have a thousand times before.

Familiarity can become mundane at times, but after a trip, it's comforting, like a blanket from your childhood. It makes you appreciate what you have and be thankful that, even after a wonderful trip, you want to come back home.

Summer Photos

There's lots to tell of this summer, but right now I'm only up for posting photos. These hot days leave me little energy to write and reflect. Instead, enjoy the pictures of the kids enjoying the lazy days of summer.

Cameron began walking the first few days of June. Here's a short video of him showing off his new skill a month ago. It's amazing that he now can almost run. He's really motivated to keep up with Carter.

Carter has loved all the time we've spent at parks. This is one of our favorites by our neighborhood library. Carter and Cameron on our front walkway, waiting for daddy to come home.

Carter loves the splash parks we've discovered this summer. He was hesitant at first but then he realized how fun it is to run through the squirting fountains.

Cameron found his own version of water play--drinking the dog water.

Cameron loves being so much more mobile. Here, he's running from Carter who loves to play chase.

While Mark and I were climbing, Carter pretended he was a squirrel in a tree. I love this picture.

That's all for now. I'll upload some more soon. We've got our trip to North Carolina coming up soon, so I'll be excited to share pictures from the kids' first real beach experience. Happy summer!

Children of Summer

School's out and the warm weather's here. I've taken my solo trip for the summer (to visit Laura in NYC), and now I have a month and a half before school starts again. Mark's taking a couple classes for most of the days this summer, so it's just me and the boys on the weekdays. I wasn't sure how I was going to feel about that, about going from full time job to full time mom without much chance to get out on my own, but so far I'm loving it. It's making me really make an effort to enjoy each moment with my kids and think of things that will get us all out and about.

I'm realizing how well I do when I can make my own plans without having to meet other adults' needs and can really focus on Carter and Cameron and follow their natural rhythm. I can leave in the morning for an outing when everyone's ready, and not before, and head home when everyone's had their fill and needs the comfort of their own bed for the afternoon nap. I even get a few moments of shut-eye here and there.

Now that Cameron is walking, Carter and Cameron often can entertain each other without needing me unless there is a dispute over a shared toy. Today I went to a nearby lake with a friend who has kids the same age, and we both noted that we were able to carry on a complete conversation without needing to tend to our kids. It doesn't sound like much, but it's amazing what a difference it makes not always having to be doing something for the kids.

I've started to be able to get my own enjoyment out of activities I do with the kids. Tomorrow I'm going on a hike and, although I know it will be at Carter's pace and it will take me a good part of the morning to get ready, I anticipate that I'll still feel like I'm getting outside and at least getting a bit of exercise, even if it's only because I'll have 30-pound Cameron on my back.

The shift is taking place ever so gradually, but I get glimpses of not always needing to be concerned about what my kids need, who's hungry, why someone's crying. I'm having more and more moments of truly enjoying the relationship with my kids and doing things that we all want to do. It makes me realize how cool I really think my kids are and how amazing it is that I get to spend the rest of my life with them.

Cultivating

(Carter and me, taking some time to just be. Olympic Peninsula, WA)

In reading this post, it brought to light for me how much I treasure the little vegetable garden I planted a couple weeks ago. It's something I've been planning since last summer. I began with little idea of what I wanted to include and then where I might be able to find a home for it in our yard. A place not too big, with just the right amount of light, and where Winston wouldn't be running through it. I actually built the border, a row of partially buried bricks, last fall, and had a sketched drawing of where each plant would live in my little 8' x 8' square of life. As soon as I knew the danger of frost was gone, (late May at our house), I dug up all the weeds, filled our jeep with planting soil, and hoed the dirt.

The next day I took a cherished trip to the gardening store alone and just walked up and down the aisles breathing in the fragrant-fresh smell of the nursery. I loaded my cart with herbs and a few sprouted plants, and carefully picked my seed packets (do I want big max or autumn glory pumpkins?). I returned to my patch of earth and tenderly planted my crop. It didn't take long, Shorter than Mark's trip with Carter to the hardware store, but I had sown my seeds and was filled with a sense of satisfaction and anticipation.

Having two young children and full time job often leaves me feeling like I spend most of my time and energy meeting the needs of others. And making sure I have sleep and food and the basics is for the purpose of being ready to serve others again. But not my garden. It is my own 64 square feet that I can do what I want with. My energy put into it is for no purpose but my own. If all the plants die or flourish, I'm the only one who will care, and right now that is good.

I look forward to the fruits and vegetables I will have over the next few months, but it's really more about the journey. It's a few minutes a day Carter and I spend together watering (he loves the shower head on the hose), and it's a few minutes a day where I am solely focused on the signs of life. It's my little zen garden where I can take a few minutes for myself to cultivate.

Weathering the Storm

(Carter and Cameron enjoying lunch on Mimi and Papa's boat)

Wow. It's been awhile. As my last post alluded to, there's a lot going on right now, and much of it I'm still muddling through. But the clouds are beginning to part. I can feel a sense of burden lifted from my shoulders. The waters are calming and it's beginning to feel easier to swim. For one, the kids are getting older. I can sit for almost five minutes on occasion and not have a single demand asked of me. Not often, but enough to make a difference. Another reason, summer's coming. I can open the doors and windows and get some fresh air, have some space, let Carter play outside and entertain himself with the grass and bugs and sandbox. Work is busy as ever, but the end is in sight. Three weeks left. And I've started climbing again and am beginning to be reminded of who I am other than Mom and Wife. I have goals that are just mine and can only be accomplished by me.

It's amazing how feeling in control and happy and content with one part of my life spreads and is contagious with the other parts of me. It's the snowball effect. The best kind of snowball there is. I can feel my infectious smile touching my kids and Mark. As I am more fulfilled, I have more to give, which naturally leads to others giving back. I can feel my life's investments giving great returns.

It's not all smooth sailing. Cameron's teething and Carter just threw a notable I'm-too-tired-to-not-cry-and-scream-and-kick tantrum this afternoon. But I have more within me to get through it and move on. As I sit here in the early evening sunshine and watch Mark and Carter mow the lawn together, my heart is full.

I think I've come out of this last storm without too many lasting bumps and bruises. Hopefully just some great swimming experience to help me get through the next one.

The Sea

I am struggling where to start with this entry, or where it is going, so I'll just begin . . .

I'm having vividly detailed visions of the sea recently. Not a calm, sunny day, breezy sea. More like a late evening, cloudy night, slightly drizzling sea that churns and froths. The moon is full but is almost completely covered by shapeless clouds, with only a faint glow of cloaked light cast on the beach.

I find myself a part of this scene in many places, sometimes standing on the beach, watching those close to me swim in the sea, struggling, doing their best to stay afloat. Other times I am that person in the sea, splashed by waves, bobbing with little control over my direction. Later, I sit upon a floating vessel, not so much a boat, but perhaps an inflatable raft or unstable surfboard. I ebb and flow with the waves, not really going anywhere, but in a constant state of motion.

All around me, at work, at home, on the phone, in conversations with others, I find I am surrounded by and a part of unease. As I support others who are floundering, I also fumble and falter. It's not one event, one person, one area of life. It's an indefinable sea that has no clear borders and edges. This lack of definition leaves me at a loss for words, unsure of what I need. My usual compulsion to talk and consult and vent is absent. Silence feels more comfortable right now.

But I feel buoyant and hopeful. In time the strokes I need will come naturally and fluently. The clouds will part, and I will once again regain my footing, will see clearly what to do, how to proceed. There is no storm brewing on the horizon. I only need to wait and be patient, take deep breaths and keep on moving.

Playing Nice: Addendum

A quick addendum to yesterday’s post:

Last night we went swimming again, and Carter found a little girl named Erika to play with. We went through the routine of Carter asking her name, and my telling him to ask her and tell her his name as well. Names were exchanged, and the rest of the night, she referred to him as Tater and he called her Kylie, and they both responded to each other as if those had been their names all along. Erika’s dad and I attempted to clarify with our children the other’s name, but it was unsuccessful, and really, it didn’t matter. Tater and Kylie got along just fine without us.

Playing Nice

We have discovered discounted Tuesday nights at the rec center, so I have been taking Carter swimming. It gives him a chance to get out and be active, and he and I get some quality time because Mark stays home with Cameron.

It's also a place where there are community toys, children, and lots of opportunities for turn-taking, sharing, and interacting. Carter just loves any kids that will play with him. He immediately begins referring to a playmate as "my friend", and then proceeds to initiate play in any way he can. He asks me questions like, "What's her name?" and I have to tell him to go ask, and to tell her his name too. Once he finds out what he's looking for, he always turns back and smiles at me, satisfied that he now has a name to call out.

Having a young child who is learning the rules of play and social interaction reminds me on a daily basis that although we are naturally social beings, we often need to be taught the conventions that our society has established to play nice. It's one of the countless lessons that falls on the list of parent responsibilities.

It's interesting to me that Carter is aware that there are social rules, but that he acknowledges he doesn't always know them. For example, he'll say to me, "I want her boat," but indicates he doesn't know what to do. I tell him that he could offer to trade toys, and he'll do so, once again proud that he was able to get what he wanted in such a successful way.

A side note on all of this is that the adults of these children learning social rules also have to come to a common understanding of what we are going to guide our children to do. For example, if Carter wants another child's toy, but the other child doesn't want to share, then we parents both have a call to make--do we tell Carter that's the other child's toy so he can't play with it, or do we tell the other child to share?

We parents have to quickly read each other's body language and discern who needs to intervene. There is no one right answer, but we parents, not even knowing each other, understand that we have to support the other in the decision made so our kids hear a consistent message.

It's not an easy thing to do, present this unspoken united front as unacquainted parents. It reminds me that Carter's not the only one learning and practicing the unwritten social rules we all live by. As a parent, I have to remember how to initiate contact with another person, come to common understandings, and play nice.

Stopping to Enjoy the Music

This article about the reaction of the public to this violinist playing in the subway struck a cord with me. The article describes a social experiment in which Joshua Bell, a world-renown musician who can fill an auditorium with seats sold for upwards of $100, plays in the subway at rush hour and is barely noticed. It begs the question of what beauty, talent, and precious moments we pass by each moment without realizing the missed opportunity.

I know I get so busy and task-oriented that it’s hard to stop and look around, slow down the pace of the world, take a moment to breathe. I’ve written about this before, but it’s something that takes constant reminding and self-correction for me, especially now with two children to tend to on top of a full-time job. The grocery lists, doctor’s appointments, bills, laundry, dishes, and meals are so visibly before me and begging to be dealt with. My children’s requests and cries keep me on auto-pilot mother-mode where I can pour a glass of milk, change a diaper, and make a plate of chicken nuggets without even being fully conscious.

How do I turn off that auto-pilot function to look around at the scenery, the daily events whose fibers weave together to form my tapestry of memories? On my desk at work sits the above picture of Mark blowing bubbles for Carter, and a perfect bubble hovers above their head, frozen in time. How do I open my eyes and slow down my mind enough to spot that perfectly floating bubble, gone a moment later? I want to not just see, but notice and note in my memory the light in Carter’s eyes every time he learns something new. I want to permanently record in my mind Cameron’s light-hearted, carefree giggle.

You know that little black box that planes have that record everything that happens? How do I get one of those installed so that when my auto-pilot accidentally kicks on, I can refer to the little black box to see and hear what I missed. Simple joy and beauty surrounds me every day. I want to savor every last minute of it.