Love the melon!!

Camp On!

We have entered the time of the journey when the newness of travel has worn out, and as we are not traveling, but rather resting, we are learning to live as campers. While last week was a little heavy with readjusting to this, this week has led us to some nice routines. The weekend was entered with openness and spontaneity. We hadn’t reserved a campground and were pleased about that fact when we learned it would rain all weekend in western Washington. So we headed east over the mountains hoping to find some sunshine. And we did. There was some rain one night, but beyond that we had escaped a weekend of forced indoor or in tent activity. We landed around a town called Cle Elum and instantly feel in love with the area. It is horse land where Washington is still western and not so much northwestern. Filled with a community pride that is made known through it’s well kept historical buildings the town is steeped in it’s roots. We had hoped to camp in a campground called Whish Poosh, who wouldn’t want to camp somewhere with a name like that? But it was full, as were all the other official campgrounds in that stretch of road, we settled on a officially unofficial campground. It was free, a much appreciated bonus, but boasted no facilities except the port a potties randomly stationed around the treed area. We weren’t quite prepared for this type of camping, we hadn’t packed in any water and didn’t have a table to set up on. So we took our trusty filter to the river and pumped clean water into our bottles and set the grill up on the nearest stump we could find to keep it out of the kids’ reach. The drive there was a welcome reminder of the natural beauty that Washington has to offer. I have rarely seen lakes so dense with color, greens and blues mixing together to produce a palette a painter would envy. Tall timbers line the road and the mountains swaying with the wind. And once one is beyond the suburbs of Seattle and Bellevue the mountains loom overhead and the drive through the canyon lends itself to imaginings of adventures to be found.

While the campground was lovely during the day, there was a nightlife that was unexpected. We had camped in an isolated spot, hoping to save the other campers from the noise our children make waking up at night and instead were glad we have the space between us to save us from the club like atmosphere that had been transported to the great outdoors. Thumping music, hooting youngsters, and who knows what else had interrupted our little quest for a silent night and left us wondering what we had stepped into. Two nights of this later a tired family made our way back to our campground north of the city, which suddenly felt luxurious with it’s 25 cent showers, water pumps, and quiet atmosphere. I have since been contemplating how quickly we as humans can adjust our standard of living to meet our lifestyle. We are beginning to look at apartments to rent and I’ve started to wonder if anything with a sink, a bathroom, and a dishwasher won’t feel like the Ritz. I can’t even picture us in that type of life right now, I’m so caught up in the present. I just finished a chapter about the present in Annie Dillard’s book. I so often wish away the present, looking for instead the next best thing. And so, to now be living so vividly in the present, in the laughter of my children, the warm sun on my face, and the crackle of the campfire, I feel blessed. To be aware of the now, and to soak it up, enjoying or lamenting the details of the day, is what this summer has been about. We can remember the past, but we cannot stay there and we can hope for the future but we cannot see it. The present we can be in, we can see it, it is tangible, it is now. In the present we are getting ready for bed, a loved and hated ritual that all people must go through. Tonight it is loved and laughter is ringing from the tent as my husband gets the kids in their pajamas, mosquitos are taking their last bites for the night, campfires crackle around the campground, and the sun is on it’s way down. It is the evening of another day. One more day less of living ourdoors, and one more day more of building our family and loving each other. The present is rich, feeding or draining our spirits, it is where we are, we cannot be anywhere else. I am glad I am here, I am grateful for my present. And as tired as I am these days, the present is all I can handle.

She’s One...August 5!

We celebrated our baby girl’s first birthday on the beach. The sun was low in the sky, the grill cooked some splurges of succulent steak, the air was fresh and our baby was one. It’s hard to believe a year has passed since she was born so incredibly last August. Delivered by her father, she has always been and still is a daddy’s girl. So we sat, ate, played and remembered her birth, her induction into our crazy family. I cannot picture life without her anymore. To commemorate the day I made a list of all the amazing things she can do at 1. Here it is:

She can…

Walk

Go up and down stairs

Sit and look through a book, alone

Climb into her stroller by herself

Try to count to 2, uhh, dooo

Say dada, mama, dah (dom), nana (for herself), hi, uh oh, no, flower, tickle

Sign for more, milk, and all done

Feed herself

Quickly empty any bag or bin of anything J, and sometimes even put it back in

Bounce

Wear pigtails

Where are we?

Some of you might be wondering where we now are and what we have been doing for the past week. Currently, I am standing in the kitchen of my husband's co-worker's home who has graciously let us stay here for a couple nights while her family went camping. It's close to Nate's work so he is getting home an hour or two earlier than when we were camping which has made our day as a mom and kids much shorter. It's nice. The home has a door, a faucet, a washer/dryer, and a bathroom...all in one place. The first time I turned on the faucet for a glass of water, yes a glass not a metal water bottle, I excitedly called my husband. It's not as though I don't know about faucets, or have been away from them for so long, but this felt like an immense blessing to suddenly find water so easily accessible and clean. This past spring we walked for a cause that I deeply believe in, clean water. We joined a non profit called Water 1st that digs wells in 3rd world countries and walked 5K carrying 5 gallons of water on our back. Nate and I switched off carrying the water, it was heavy and we both realized how much work and daily life is simply about surviving for many people around the globe. The past 2 weeks have simply taken that and solidified it in my mind. We only had about 50 yards to our water spigot, and I was blessed that my husband would fill our water container every morning so that we had water for a full day. Even so, it made an impression on us. We did not waste that water, that was one of our rules with the kids, no playing in the campsite water, it had to last all day for washing dishes, drinking, and cooking. Many times throughout the week my mind went out to the women and children who spend their time and energy transporting water every day so their families can survive. We take so much for granted.

The last week of camping brought a comfortable routine for me with the kids. We spent nearly every day at the campground play area. I love a good playground, it can occupy children of all ages, bring relief to a tired mom, and offer a place to talk to and meet other people. The playground is situated just 100 yards from the beachfront of Puget Sound, so we had our options of swinging or swimming. I have discovered many keys to camping with kids as we have extended this time in the woods that I can quickly share with you.

First, we soon realized within the first hours of staying at this particular campground that a campsite consisting mainly of dirt is more difficult than one of grass. A close, walkable place to change scenery and offer new activities for the kids is a wonderful amenity. It does not matter whether that is a playground, a beach, a great trail to take walks on, or even just a grassy field to play tag or frisbee together at, the day is much shorter when it can be broken up into new places and activities. For long term camping, more than a weekend, it is nice to have showers or a lake nearby to wash off the dirt. Kids get dirty. They play in it, sit in it, eat it, throw it and then they get it all over you. This is fine, and I think good for them, but for more than a week, or weekend for the type As out there, it can wear on a mom to have a film of grime covering her family. Along these lines, the great outdoors offers a unique opportunity for the city dwelling family and child to be free, so back off on the rules and enjoy freedom for yourself and child. Within the boundlessness of freedom safety rules still are necessary and best implemented at the beginning of the trip. A quick run through the campsite to be sure there isn't any broken glass or sharp objects left behind by the last campers is a good idea. We found that plastic or wooden toys are less likely to stay dirty than stuffed or cloth toys, this is common sense stuff, but the best toys are the pinecones, sticks, and trees that they can feel, pretend with, and climb. One other group of kids had brought a rope to make a rope swing with that was a big hit with our kids too.

We'll be back to the camping again next week, and spending time looking for apartments for the next year. Updates to come!

Blogging

Well, blogging is a hard thing to do when internet is scarce. So here I am sitting at a dear friend's home in Seattle where Wi-fi is in every home and she's graciously offered to let us invade their space so I can post all that I have been working on. So again, apologies for all the new posts. Read them all, read a few, read what interests you. Hoping to get back into the swing of things next week. Love to you all!

Sunset in Iowa, I have rarely seen more beautiful sunsets in any other place.

Peek A Boo occupied us for quite some time on the long drive home.

Day to Day

You may at this point think we could possibly have moved into another dimension of pink ponies, rainbows, and marshmallow clouds. Well, I will reveal the truth, a nomad summer does not imply a no(one gets)mad summer. We have had our share of heated discussions, time outs, and wondering what we are doing. Working back into the routine of day to day life this week, while living in a campground 40 miles from the job, has proven to be one of these difficult areas. Trying to reconcile the world of a camping trip, i.e. junk food and lazy days in the sun, with the working world my husband enters each day has led us to some honest discussions about expectations. Expectations are little unspoken thoughts that no one will say, but will always hold over another’s head. We live hoping that person will live up to them, find disappointment when they don’t, and begrudge them for not reading our mind. Communication is the kind cousin of expectation, for if a couple can communicate well, then those expectations will rarely roar their little heads. A couple who has challenges communicating, I will admit that is often us, will also frequently battle the dark cloud of unmet expectations. We are lucky in that while we don’t always live understanding this, we do see it and know it about ourselves.

So I find myself here at a campground all day with two little kids. Keeping us busy is the most important thing about the day. If we aren’t busy, then the little guy gets antsy and pretty soon the whole campground is listening to either him getting upset, or me trying to discipline. It’s like living life in a glass house. Typically, while camping we would let more slide, we’d put off dealing with certain behaviors until we were in the privacy of our own home. Having been away from home for 5 weeks already and looking into another 3 weeks out of a home, we can’t live that way, it would set us up for a downfall come September. So, it feels a little like airing your dirty laundry out in front of the world. We are not perfect parents, or a perfect couple in the sense that all is always peaceful and gentle and kind. We get angry, we have unmet expectations and we have no where to go with those except the picnic table where the rest of the campground can hear us discuss life if they so choose. It’s a little embarrassing since no one else is actively living this way, but it does make me wonder what communities used to be like before everyone had thick walls and lawns between their homes. I’m sure people argued, most likely more openly that we do now, and I’m sure there was a lot that was different than now. Familial roles were more defined and distractions like leisure time and computers didn’t exist. But I wonder what it was like to live in tents, in family compounds where everyone knew all about the relationships between everyone else, not because they were talked about later, but because they were lived out in front of each other. We try so hard to hide our flaws, our personality, physical, and family flaws and I think that this only puts more distance between others and ourselves. It breeds fear and loneliness, it raises expectations and limits communications. It makes one another unapproachable. Obviously we have to maintain some sense of social decorum or it might get a little nutso with everyone airing their feelings left and right, but I’m open to a little more crazy in this planet and a little less stiff upper lip. Let’s get to know each other, good and bad, let’s live real life next to each other, honestly and full of hope. This is where we learn grace, mercy, forgiveness, self control, and love. We cannot learn those things sheltered from imperfection or from expecting perfection. Learning them takes practice and practice takes complete commitment to imperfect people.

TV

TV in the woods. There’s just something wrong to me about pulling up your huge RV into a campground then proceeding to pull your television out of the rv to watch it yards from someone else’s space, without walls. Not to mention the myriad of other issues surrounding a family that will not unplug a screen for a short period of time during the most lovely of all times of the year. It’s sunny, it’s warm, there are no mosquitos, there is, though, a park and waterfront a short walk away. Every time this family is at the RV, though, that loud box is interfering with our noise space.

I am finding myself at a crossroads. If I am to love my neighbor, and for this week and thank goodness this week alone, these people are my neighbor, how do I do that? All day I thought about this, knowing that I wanted to learn to show love, but instead was feeling only judgmental. Well, luck has it that even though I am often verbally blunt, and so not wanting to say anything to them, I have a very diplomatic husband. So I recruited him last night to speak to them about it and surprise to me, they kindly turned down their tv. Maybe my loving them was simply keeping my mouth shut until someone else could handle it better. Maybe that’s a lesson we could all learn sometimes. Either way, tact is my goal and someday I may attain it.

Utah

Oh, Utah. Who knew? Maybe you did, but I did not. Prior to entering Utah, I expected a wasteland of desert, salty plains stretching for miles as we traveled over windswept mirages of water. Instead I was greeted by lushness. It was northern Utah, so I cannot speak for the southern part of the state which may very likely be closer to my expectations. Rolling mossy hills reminiscent of our earlier trip through Wyoming brought gladness to our hearts. As we drove closer to a campground we were hoping to stay at that night, we noticed that we were once again in a type of farmland/ranch area. What stood out to us was the cleanliness of the homes and surrounding outbuildings. It was like walking into a home where the kids had picked up their toys before going to bed, as opposed to what my home often looks like with stuff strewn all over the place. The lawns were trim and neat, the buildings well cared for, and there was not one old car sitting on a property….maybe they were just better at hiding the junk in the buildings. We were impressed and it led to an overall enjoyment of the surrounding countryside. The campsite was full and rain clouds were working their way closer, so we settled on a hotel in Park City for the night. Waking up to a wet morning let us know we had made a wise choice. Today we make the final push to Washington. It will be another very long day of driving and we are now confident the kids can handle it. As we wind down the time we have spent away we are beginning the stage of reflecting. What has this time given us, what did we hope for that did not happen, what went well and what could have gone better, and are we really any closer to knowing what is in store for us?

You may be wondering how my plans to eat gluten free for the summer went…I believe I would give myself a very large F if I were to give a grade. In fact, I think I ate more wheat and dairy than I typically do at home. There are numerous reasons and excuses for this, but it all boils down to availability and cost. It is much more cost effective to funnel all the gluten free foods to the one with the actual allergy. We’ll continue to work on that path this summer as we’ll be cooking for ourselves more now. I am certain a cleanse is in the near future, though.

Reunited

Friday night. 7:30pm. Southwest Airlines. Row 9. Seat B. My husband arrived. We’ve been apart for a couple weeks at a time before this, but never while I was traveling with 2 kids. The kids and I set out to the Denver International Airport to pick him up and give long overdue hugs. We were giddy. We had all missed him so much and 2 weeks was too long this time to be apart. Baby girl cried the whole way until I reached back with my hand and sang a little ditty about going to see daddy. I think she understood. Once we had picked him up he spent the drive back to Boulder turned around going between kids with his attention. They were in heaven. I was left so grateful for a family that loves each other this much, enough to miss one another, and enough to excitedly receive the one who has returned. I want to expand that idea of family to include all those I love and with my mind set toward Washington, I am getting excited to see familiar faces of friends I have missed along the way. This journey has been just what we needed, a step away to realign ourselves. And now we begin our step back. The timing is perfect, our souls and bodies are tired and ready to return, our minds and hearts have expanded and we just want to be around the people who have known us and cared for us so well over the past few years.

Boulder, CO

Two days later we arrived in Boulder, CO. Road weary and tired of the car we found a little park where we once again got rained on. As the evening cleared we headed to a lookout park and spent the evening watching the light bounce off the mountains. If Boise didn’t woo, and Wyoming did, Boulder swept me off my feet. A mix of all that I like about Seattle in a smaller package with the mountains closer and the sunshine shining it’s no wonder this is one of the most popular cities to live in. There was gluten-free food everywhere. We stopped at a pizza joint for supper called BJs where they made my little guy a delicious GF/DF pizza. It was the first time in his little life that we have been able to get him a pizza in a restraunt. Where our mantra is typically, ‘sorry honey’, it was a joy to be able to say ‘Yes!’ when he asked if he could have some pizza. The little things in life sometimes catch me and remind me of what he often misses out on because of his diet and how reasonable he is about accepting that fact of life. He doesn’t throw a fit if he can’t have a certain food, though he has started expressing disappointment, who wouldn’t, yet to go to a coffee shop and be able to get a treat or a something like pizza lights up his little face and my heart. Our psyches are so intertwined with food, it can make us feel accepted or dejected, it can give us energy and health or make us sick, it can bring comfort and enjoyment in life. All that from a bean or a grain or a form of milk, it makes me want to fill my life and home with foods that bring good things to my family.

Car Sleeping

Ever since our first road trip with our baby girl, 6 hours to Cor d’Lene when she was 6 weeks old, one of my favorite things that she does when she is trying to sleep in the car is that she loves for one of us to reach back and hold her hand. Almost instinctively she wants reassurance that we are indeed still here, that just b/c she cannot see us does not mean we have left her hurtling through space alone in this metal box. So we indulge her. We reach back and sit with our arm straining awkwardly against the seat until both she and our arm have fallen asleep. It’s peaceful and full of moments that will forever remain with me, moments of connection. I hope that she reaches for my hand for as long as I live, and I hope that no matter how uncomfortable it makes me, I see her reaching and indulge her. It reminds me of mercy, the mercy I seek from a God reaching down to me, seeing me in my longing and indulging my wandering soul with compassion.

We left West Liberty, my hometown, on Monday morning and headed west. Finally pointing in the direction of home we worked our way across the state of Iowa to arrive at my aunt’s farm in the western part of the state. It’s a family farm from her husband’s family and her son and grandsons still farm the land. Warm air smelling of hogs, fresh cut grass, and hard work mixed with the sunshine to greet us as we pulled up her drive. She has a lovely, well kept farm house and my cousin and his family live across the road in their own home to create a wonderful mixture of separate lives, combined with a life of togetherness. My cousin and his sons are your quintessential Iowa farm boys. Polite, intelligent, well raised boys, well now they are almost all men, that reach over 6 foot tall in height they come across as all American boys. The eldest plays football at Buena Vista University, a few miles from home. The second will be joining him there, but on the baseball team instead. The youngest is about to embark upon junior high. They played with the kids as I had played with them when they were the age of my kids. Our little guy had a wonderful time goofing off with them and was so sad to leave only a day later. We saw a large collection of stuffed, taxidermy style, animals that the eldest boy had helped bring to BVU’s biology department. They had been donated by a museum from some tiny Iowan town where the gentleman had received deceased animals from the Omaha Zoo and then preserved them. The collection encompassed African animals to North American animals all lining the halls of this small university. A giraffe skeleton and an elephant one caught our attention in the span of space they took up. I have been lucky enough to see many of the African animals when we went on safari in Tanzania in college, but most of the animals we will never get this close to and to stand next to one and imagine the immense size and potential power of it is amazing. I’m not sure the little kids really understood it, but I was thoroughly impressed.

We left the farm that afternoon after a few gator rides and some good catching up conversation. As we drove away our four year old expressed for the first time that he wanted a dog, just like theirs, I’m thinking with the right space and dog it might be just the thing a little boy needs. The visit, as it always is, was too short leaving me wishing I had more time to get to know this part of my family.