Monday, August 26, 2013


I have finally found a quiet moment.

To be perfectly honest I'd rather be sleeping, but alas, it escapes me today. So here I am to tell you about more Wyoming adventures.

We went backpacking.

Or sort of backpacking?

Our intention was to backpack. It did not turn out quite that way, but it was fantastic anyway. If you ask me. If you ask my husband whose only pair of boots got soaking wet within the first hour and whose (new) pants and socks (that were trying to dry) had embers fly up on them and burn holes in them he would  give you a much different response.

It was drizzling when we started out. Crossing a stream (where aforementioned boots were soaked) before getting on the trail that is supposedly 2 miles. However, we have heard conflicting reports that say it may be as many as 3.5. I'm a little confused as to why there is such variation in the numbers, but regardless its an intense(ly) beautiful hike.

I was loaded down with Bubs and gear on my back and gear on my front. One foot in front of the other in the rain. Something magical and romantic about the drizzle in the wilderness while pushing your body.

Enough time had gone by and we had covered a good enough distance when we heard a voice coming from behind us 'I hate to be the bearer of bad news but you guys went the wrong way'. Should have stayed straight at the fork.

So back we go, retracing our steps. It's raining hard now, and hailing a bit. We stop under trees when we can to see if the rain will let up. Sis is soaked. Bubs is under an umbrella, the driest of all. We are worried about Sis's body temperature since she wet and cold, and as the rain falls its getting colder. We decide to go back to the car and warm up. Eventually half of our group decides the same thing. Then we decide we need to just camp by our cars that night.

The wonderful dark beautiful wilderness sky brought with it clear skies with an open view to all the stars. And the conversation between a cow and bull elk (unlike any noise I've ever heard...except maybe a fax machine. Seriously.) And a warm fire. And some red wine from a bag that someone was smart enough to bring. And conversation with people who are becoming good friends.

The cloudy misty early morning brought 41 degrees and hungry kids and a rising sun making everything clear again and a long hard hike holding Sis (we left the other child carrier at home), lots of elk tracks, and a lake with breakfast and fishing and rock throwing.

I'm still a little sore from that work out. But it was so worth it.

I'm still wondering why. Why is that I loved this mess of a trip. Rain, cold, hail, interrupted plans, tired children (who were in fabulous moods loving the woods and the lake and the stream but 'did not want to see a bear!!'), little food...I would not have held up as well as my posse when I was young.

I think it's feeling alive. Things have been stressful for a couple of years and to feel something else is like taking a deep breathe. It feels like LIFE. To feel the rain. To smell the trees. To feel the cold water. To have no lights but the sun and the fire. To hear the elk. To taste dirt on everything. To get out of the cleaned up sterile spaces that we all abide in. To have space and time to think. To push the body.

Saturday, August 17, 2013


The weather is cooling down up here.

Sort of.

The high was ninety effing three degrees today.

BUT it took until about noon to get there.

AND it started cooling off around 5. The house didn't even get that hot.

It's cooling off at night. That's how you know summer is coming to a close and the wonderfully beautiful fall weather and colors is coming.

And on the heels of that will be winter. So we are SOAKING up the summer.

Instead of running everywhere these days, the posse and I get to bike everywhere because I have awesome readers. And one of those readers saw that I wanted a bike trailer and somehow magically pulled some strings to get me one.

We bike to the park. We bike to the store. We bike to the gas station to see if they have post cards. (They don't. Why does the gas station in a semi-tourist town NOT have postcards?) We bike to friends' houses and to other parks where the wheels pop off and the axels bend. (Dont worry we have a great friend whose husband was already on our side of town who stopped by and rigged it enough to get us safely home without me having to push us 1.5 miles) AND I biked to my first job interview in FIVE years.

I am now the newest part-time barista at our local coffee shop.

I love my posse. I think that being at home with them is best place for me to be. And if it wasn't me home with them, then I think at home with their other parent would be the best place for them to be.
I love that I get to set the pace and the tone for day (except for mostly I feel like Sis does a fantastic job of that for me). I love that I get to see their firsts. I love that I get to teach them things like how to treat each other and how to slide down off our extra tall bed and how to cross the street and how to climb the 'rock walls' at the park. I love that we read together. I love that we eat together. And I really love that we nap together in separate rooms everyday at the same time.

But I also love that I was able to get a college education and that I know some big words. I really love to read and to think and discuss uninterrupted. I love a little time to stick my head above the drowning waters of having young kids to take a few deep breaths before I get pulled back under to watch one more episode of Dora or Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood. And honestly, Daniel Tiger has taught us some good things ('While you wait you can play, sing or imagine anything' 'It's almost time to stop, so choose one more thing to do' Anyone? Anyone?) so I don't really mind him. Or pulled back down to mediate another fight (we've been having approximately one trillion everyday for the last month. WTF). Or pulled back down to figure out if in fact Sis is ACTUALLY hungry or if she is just bored.

And I need something to do in the winter because I don't ski. Yet.

So when I saw Old Town was hiring, I jumped on it. Literally sent her my resume (which needed some serious updating) the next afternoon. And was emailed about an interview that night.

I'll work a couple shifts, make a couple dollars, make a lot of coffees, meet a lot of people, hear a lot about what is going on in town, hopefully make some more friends all without having to hear anyone scream or say 'MOMMMMM I made poop in the pottynowigetagummyBEARR!!!!!!!!!!!!!' (this is actually how she says it. And I actually laugh out loud every time) or 'hold me momma hold me hold me hold me hold me' while I'm trying to fry up some onion for dinner while someone else is screaming because they are, in fact, this time actually hungry and not bored.

And in the end, I think, it will make everything else all the sweeter for having been away for a minute. Particularly the 'mommy mommy mommy mommy!!!!!!' and ambush of hugs upon my return.

Sometimes you just need some space. You know? Space to breathe and come back in and really look at them and see them for who they are. These beautiful people that I am blessed to have in my life, who if I don't get space from sometimes make me want to pull my hair out and run away.

Just a couple hours.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that...

Here is to loving my kids, and loving myself, and loving independence and finding the balance in all of that.


Friday, August 16, 2013

Let it go

A friend came over today.

She has a daughter the same age as Sis. They get along splendidly. They are both intense and don't like to be touched, sprayed on, or looked at. There must be some kind of radar for this kind of thing because they get each other and are able to stay out of each other's space while still having a fabulous time. You know, exchanging shoes and skirts like normal friends.

I found myself saying a few times that I was learning to 'let it go' and telling myself to 'let it go'.
About things like the toys that are ALL OVER my posse's room. And the mess in our backyard. Also courtesy of our sweet little posse.

I like things to be in order. I like them to be organized. I don't like dishes piled up on the counter. I don't like things, stuff, toys, whatever on the floor. It drives me crazy when the pillows are pulled off the couch. It makes me feel chaotic. I have a hard time thinking clearly when my environment is so messy.

BUT cleaning up the floor 10x a day is exhausting, it is also exhausting to have the kids clean up 10x a day-rarely can they do it unsupervised with minute by minute prompting, although they are getting better at it.

And as we are trying to soak up every last single baby drop of summer I find myself, miraculously leaving the house when the dishes are piled up, and the blocks look like a rug on the living room floor, and laundry is thrown all over floor and Sis is wearing something that clashes and is on backyards and probably inside out as well with tangled hair that she refuses to comb and Bubs has on his stinky brown shoes without socks on again.

We are leaving the house like that to bike around town and hike in the mountains as much as we can before the road closes in a few months and explore dry lake beds and take walks and play hard before we have to be a bit more creative about those things.

As much as it drives me crazy to have a house like that, a place for everything and nothing in its place, it drives me outside a bit more and I think that is a good thing.

Learning to let go of things that are not so important but seem so urgent is a process. I still find myself in a flurry of 'putting things away' activity before leaving but less and less. And it bothers me less and less to leave the house like that.

I think this might be a good thing.
Or a sign of exhaustion??
Maybe both.