favorite overheard conversation of late

I had just stepped into line at a local coffee shop on Thursday. Two men and two women were at a table together, most of the chatter being dominated by one loud man. Suddenly they saw Zoralee on my back in the Ergo carrier.

everybody: ohhhh, look at the baaaby. awwww.

loud man: I don't think he's comfortable.

both women, reassuringly: Oh, yes he is. Yes he is.

loud man: With his legs like this?!

both women: Yes! He is!

me: [stood silently in line, 5 FEET AWAY, letting Zoralee's obvious contentment and girlhood speak for themselves]

Zoralee goes kayaking

Papa's home for the weekend. Time to put down the toys and get out there! Here's a quick one minute clip from yesterday evening. Zoralee is the star, but it does show all three of us a wee bit (especially for you, Nana).

non-thematic noticings and thinkings

I spoke with a special investigator today, vouching for someone I know over a potential job. I had had many conversations in my head beforehand about just how skillfully I might suggest to the investigator that if they (the government) needed a humble, innocent housewife to take on any special missions - delivering an envelope to a jogger who casually sat down on my bench while my daughter played at the Kiddie Park, passing numerical codes to someone in line behind me at the grocery store, that kind of thing - I'd be their woman. I've got a mean poker face, I'd tell the investigator, so think about it; you've got my number. But since I got myself so worked up about the repercussions of being revealed by a traitor who had access to Top Secret files, and since, despite the approachable nature of the investigator man, I was a nervous wreck just answering basic questions, I thought better of my little side career notions. Still. In the words of Simon and Garfunkel, "Be careful; my bowtie is really a camera."

Been thinking about my fears and how they drive me to act. That's from reading The DNA of Relationships by Gary Smalley, a book my father was profoundly affected by recently and wanted others of us to read. Fear of failure, fear of humiliation, fear of non-perfection. I read some of it before bed last night and tossed and turned all night over my fears. I kept remembering that perfect love casts out fear but forgot to actually let it. I think the room was too hot too.

Tonight I walked around the meadow with Zoralee. Grasshoppers by the millions fled before us, and when they landed on the dry grass a few yards away, they sounded like popcorn softly popping when the bowl is nearly full and the pieces are landing on other pieces. Down by the pond, two adult turkeys and a dozen or more young ones tried to stay hidden in the tall weeds. Molly Girl scared them up, and they flew in all directions - toward us and away. The sun was low and highlighted the horses' backs, and their long legs were reflected in the pond. I lamented the unusual experience of not having my camera along. I was wearing a pocket-less skirt.

To-do lists. Oh my word. I want to talk about to-do lists for a minute. On Saturday, we walked around downtown, going into whatever shops we cared to, including a book store. A long time ago, I had read a suggestion in a magazine to pick up random books at stores or the library and just browse, picking subjects you usually wouldn't. Learn a little something. Just for fun. Well, I normally would NOT pick up a whole book about organization. It's not that I have organization down, but I have a fundamental problem with entire books dedicated to simplification. Kind of like Jason the other day noting the irony of the magazine called "Real Simple" being the thickest magazine you've ever seen. One article he read, in fact, gave like 15 things you can do in the shower to be multi-tasking, like de-clogging this or that set of pores, de-callousing your heels, and so forth. It made the inherently simple task of showering into a tiring mission.

ANYWAY, the book I picked up was called, It's Hard to Make A Difference When You Can't Find Your Keys by Marilyn Paul. And the couple of pages I read was about to-do lists. She said that it's fine to have massive lists of everything on your mind that needs doing, but that you shouldn't carry that list around daily. It's too draining. Look at it once a week to pull selected activities from, but make a very short, concise list each day (or the night before), including how much time it will realistically take to do each thing. So, this week I've been doing that. Just a short little list, see. Keeps me focused.

In related news, I am continuing to develop routines for Zoralee and myself. Why, after her mid-morning nap, we go upstairs and sit at the table for lunch. We've done that two days in a row. In my life, that's a pattern.

Okay. It's night-night time for the likes of me. Thanks for reading my non-thematic noticings. I don't usually blog this way. It's fun. I hope I haven't failed anyone.

season's first kayak trip & hiking the Highline Trail

Two weekends ago, Jason, Zoralee, and I got away for a one night camping trip in Glacier Park. We finally left our house mid-day on Friday, and by the time we found a campsight and got ourselves situated, we were all three pooped. Activity One was a giant family nap. Hard core, aren't we? I started fearing that what people told us about "everything changing once you have children" just might have an element of truth to it. Aaaack. La la la la la [plugging ears].

When we woke up refreshed, we were ready to wet down the kayak in Lake McDonald. Jason strapped Zoralee onto his back in the ergo carrier, and we hauled the kayak through the campground to the lake. We had to stop about fifty times for me to switch hands. Hefty thing, that.

Zoralee was NOT a fan of her nifty, shiny, new infant life jacket.

In fact, we eventually abandoned it because it doesn't fit well at all. It squeezes her head really badly, so we need to find a different style. I wore my lifevest and had her in the ergo-carrier on my front. If that's illegal, then I'm just kidding. Jason did all the rowing and a little fishing. Zoralee wriggled around and eventually fell asleep. I watched the water and sky in motion against the stillness of the mountains. (I love beauty, Jason loves practicality, and Zoralee loved escaping from the life jacket trauma enough to sleep.)

a couple of Jason's shots:We all know that food is one of the best parts of camping. Somehow I totally failed this trip. I skimped on meal-quality food but brought dark chocolate in several forms, including but not limited to hot chocolate, chocolate cookies, truffles, and Snickers bars. Once we figured this out, we were already in our campsight and set up. I must've been smoking crack walking through the grocery store earlier that day. Well, appropriately enough, here we are drinking hot chocolate beside the campfire (and Zoralee getting her first taste).

shots of setting up for a timed photo absolutely crack me up

* * *

The next day was my re-introduction to the act of a whole day hike, after a year and a half of abstaining due to pregnancy and infant owning. It was 11.6 miles from Logan Pass (the top of the road system through the Park) to The Loop through frickin' fantastic country. You lose roughly 2,000 feet of elevation, so there's overall more downhill than up. There is a rustic chalet about 7.5 miles in, where we stopped for an hour long break. Otherwise, we stopped briefly to snack, to give Zoralee pottytunities or change her diaper, and to fix my broken shoelace. Not counting breaks, it took us about 5 hours. We saw mountain goats, bighorn sheep, deer, marmots, ground squirrels, bugs, bees, birds, and a bazillion wild flowers. It was gorgeous.

Zoralee looked and looked all around, and when she got bored of the beauty, fell asleep. She preferred to be on my back rather than on Jason, so part way through we switched it up; he carried his pack on his back and mine on his front so that I could just carry Z. I nursed her and gave her pottytunities along the trail whenever she got fussy. She got a lot of attention from other hikers in her white sun bonnet. In a lot of spots, the trail wasn't wide enough for traffic to walk both directions, so people would let us pass or vice versa, and when we'd passed each other, they'd see Zoralee and get really startled. "Oh my heavens! There's a little one back there!" That was fun. We should've acted surprised too and started swatting at her like she was a giant insect. Next time.

I feel pretty out of shape for endurance walking, but man, the scenery was out of this world. One of those paradoxical experiences where you're wondering why in tarnation you like to do this activity but then two minutes later are living that Rocky Mountain high old John Denver sang about and can't imagine being elsewhere. (Unless it's at a Mexican restaurant. Hiking always makes me crave Mexican.)

at the Chalet

campground camping with baby

Just after the family reunion a few weeks ago, I wrote some stuff down about our first time campground camping with a baby have been wanting to get it blogged. It's rather informational and perhaps a little dry. I myself enjoy reading blogs that meld people's experiences with helpful chatter about what worked and didn't, so I suppose this is a bit of a payback to the blog universe.

Zoralee and I spent five days at the old rustic Bitterroot Lions Campground near Marion, Montana. We stayed in a tent for three nights and then were joined by Jason and stayed in our pickup camper the fourth night. Various family members were nearby in RVs and tents.

Z's first successful sneak out

Baby Paraphernalia: though I tried to be selective, I felt like we brought a LOT of stuff, which rather depressed me when I looked over the pile. It was only a few toys, as our regular life items are always more interesting to her. Flashlights, water bottles, drivers' licenses, and straps on bags kept her entertained, as well as the new surroundings and people. Her clothes all fit into a small bag since they're so tiny. We brought much more bedding than we would've for backpacking. Her cloth diapers did take up space, and then there were the other devices. A friend had just given us a stroller, and strolling turned out to be a nice way for other people to spend time with Zor, particularly when she was tired or needed some quiet space away from the crowd. The ergo-carrier sling was worth its weight in gold.

I debated and debated bringing the baby bathtub, because hello. Who wants to be seen bringing everything, including the kitchen sink pretty much. But it made a fine suitcase for the diapers and later a washing basin for them, and was perfect for Z's mid-camp bath. It was kind of like the ancient community Greek baths, where people walk by and stop for a chat. Only different.

Sleeping: Co-sleeping some at home was a huge plus in tenting it without being troubled by each others' presence. I laid down two Thermarest camping mats and covered them with blankets and open sleeping bags. The nights got cold, so we wore long sleeved stuff, socks, and hats. The day time was quite hot, so I had set up the tent under the shade of a big tree, and Z napped in only a diaper.

Diapers and EC: Okay, it may be nuts to stick with cloth diapering away from home, especially camping. Disposables certainly would've been more convenient and somewhat of a space saver. I am really not a martyr. But I've got our diapering system down and simply prefer it. EC really helps. As with all other outings, we did better with it than at home because I was better in tune with Zoralee's cues. I think we set a personal record; one day she had the same diaper on from 2:00 in the afternoon until 10:00 a.m. the next day, always dry. She did her business in sinks, toilets, and the woods. I had our baby bjorn potty chair for night times in the tent, which can be used for babies and adults alike. Sorry if that's too much info! Backpackers - and cabin dwellers :) - are familiar with the range of containers that can be used for night time peeing - Nalgene bottles, plastic nut jars from Costco with the extra wide mouths, etc. Anything to avoid leaving the tent and exposing them buns to the frigid night air.

I have enough diapers to last for three days when Zora is doing well with EC, so midway through the reunion I washed her diapers in the baby bathtub and hung them to dry in the sun. Worked pretty well, but the diapers were sure stiffer than when I dryer dry them.

* * *

Pickup Camper: While the camper has its obvious perks as far as amenities, sleeping in it is actually less enjoyable to me with a baby, and I think it's because of Z's stage of development. At the reunion, we kept her on the bed over the cab with us but I was nervous that she'd somehow get loose in the night and crawl to the edge. Two weekends ago, we took the camper to Glacier Park and made her a bed on the floor, but there's not much space, so she was constantly underfoot if we needed to be up and about. Plus, climbing down from the upper bed in the night to feed or comfort her on the floor was a real pain. I tweaked myself into some terribly awkward positions to lay beside her, and had to be extra stealthy in getting up once she'd fallen asleep again. In the tent, I could just let her play while I fiddled with bedding, clothes, whatever, and midnight wakings were a breeze.

Because Zoralee's just becoming mobile, having lots of people around was really helpful. When it was just the three of us, it would've been nice to have had a playpen or something to keep her confined. We were constantly evaluating if the rock she was playing with was small enough to be dangerous or if the plant life she was about to ingest was poisonous and forever moving her back onto her blanket or another safe place.

Bottom line: though camping with a baby takes much more preparation, and though for much of the time you're focused on her rather than, say, a nice book, you're still outside. Still soaking up the wind and sun and taking time to watch clouds shape themselves into dinosaurs and hoola-hoops. A very good change of pace and certainly worth it.

morning shadows from inside the tentevening shadows on the opposite wall