HIKING AT FOURTH OF JULY CANYON

There are few things out there that rejuvenate me like a long hike. Since we've known we were going to leave Albuquerque, we've been trying to make the best of our time here by getting out of the house often. We have a long list of things we want to do before moving day, but I'm sure we won't get to them all. One of our favorite things to do as a family is go hiking, especially since Noble was born, so that part of the list has become priority. It's the one place that the three year old doesn't have to be entertained 90% of the time, but still gets out enough energy to not fight her nap - and the baby just passes out in the Ergo. When it was just Ev, getting outside for a hike was simple once we got a routine down. Hiking with two has become a bit more complicated, especially since Ev doesn't fit in a carrier anymore. She really is an expert hiker for a three year old, but we have to put a lot of thought into which trails she'll enjoy and be prepared to turn around early. Though some days I feel like a herd dog biting at the ankles of a sheep, we still make an effort to go often. Cultivating a love of nature in my kids is one of the most important aspects of being a parent for me. I've been reading Last Child in the Woods over the last month or so. Louv urges people to consider time in nature for children as essential for their health as good food, loving parents, and a full night of sleep. Time outside shouldn't be a extracurricular activity or something reserved for vacation - it should be an integral part of their day.

On this day, my mom was here visiting and we all woke up ready to get out of the house. Alex had a long weekend and we had originally wanted to go camping, but just couldn't get all of our t's crossed and i's dotted in time, so we settled for a hike somewhere we'd never been before. Fourth of July Canyon is known for its Fall colors due to the Maple trees growing in the area (uncommon for New Mexico). The drive out there was intense, ending with 7 miles on a winding dirt road, so we were glad to have four wheel drive. We did the easy one mile trail where Ev was glad to run wild, blow dandelion fluff, and talk about dinosaur tracks (and how it looked like they were chasing the horse tracks + that we needed to save the horses), then we started on the 6.5 mile loop. We made it a mile or two and decided to turn back, but I definitely want to see the rest. As I looked through the pictures of her blowing the dandelions, I realized I had taken similar pictures almost exactly a year ago in Brooklyn. Watching her grow is such a beautiful thing.

If you're local and looking for a similar hike a bit closer to home, we found a new favorite at the base of the Sandias. We were only able to hike the Sulphur Springs trail, but rumor has it there's a creek on the neighboring trail.

MOTHER'S DAY HIKE

 

 

 

I'm a pretty easy woman to please when it comes to holidays. Even being four weeks postpartum, all I wanted to do was get out of the house. I had been talking about hiking basically since an hour after Noble was born and though I wasn't medically cleared yet, I felt good enough and wanted to get some exercise, so I did. The differences between the first and second baby are comical. I'm pretty sure I hadn't even gotten up enough energy to do the dishes four weeks after Ev was born. Alex knows me all too well - his gift was bringing the tripod along to get a family picture. . . but we forgot the piece that actually attaches the camera to the tripod, so that was a no go. We did the next best thing and tried to use the camera strap to somehow rig the camera up on the tripod, hence the picture up there with just Evie's arm in it. Then we just decided to use a log, nature's tripod, and that worked out swimmingly. We weren't at all prepared for how cold it would still be up on the peak, but we don't give up easily. We scrounged around in the car for abandoned clothes, Alex gave Ev his flannel shirt that fit her like a dress, and we were on our way. We chose the 10k trailhead up on Sandia Crest because we'd been here before (on our third anniversary actually) and didn't want to push our luck driving around looking for a new spot on our first hike with two kids. Once we got moving, it wasn't quite as cold, but we still pretty much had all the trails to ourselves. Alex has been on this 'prepping' kick lately, so we basically have stockpiles of MREs around the house. He grabbed one of those for all of us to share and Evie didn't stop shouting the entire time, 'This is the best picnic EVER!' It reminded me so much of something my Dad would have done. Everything he did was magic when I was a little girl. I'm always astounded at the beauty and flourishing wildlife that is just a short drive from a barren desert. New Mexico is a quirky place - it really never stops surprising me.

24 WEEKS + THOUGHTS ON BECOMING FOUR IN 2015

 

As is customary around this time of year, I've been spending a lot of time reflecting on 2014. It was a whirlwind kind of year, to say the least. We moved four times to four different states and spent over half of the year staying in other people's homes, accepting the generosity and hospitality of others, but never being able to give any in return. It was adventurous and it was unforgettable and it was hard. It was trying. It was draining. It was taxing on our family, finances, and hearts. Brooklyn was completely worth it, but I'm relieved to be on the other side, looking back at all of it and forward to a fresh start. After all of the change we've been through, heels dug in the ground and my hands over my eyes for most of it, I just don't have the energy to join in the new year hullabaloo with a list of goals and such. Realistically, I'll be spending the majority of my energy and thoughts on birthing a baby and falling in love with said baby and helping my people get our life sorted out, and that's ok with me - or at least I'm trying to make that ok with me. Anyone who knows me knows that I don't lay down goals and walk away from them lightly. Before I birth said baby, I'm trying my hardest to enjoy being three. I'm thrilled at the idea of meeting this new life, but I'm equally terrified at the thought of staying at home with two, the possibility of battling depression again, having a challenging time breastfeeding again. It was all so unbelievably hard the first time around and though I'm entering into this new phase of motherhood with more experience and perspective, the fear is there and makes me wonder whether its always a companion for mothers when adding another to their home, whether its their 2nd or 6th?

Along with the fear comes a touch of sadness at it no longer being just the three of us, or just Ev and I the majority of the time. I find myself grasping for the time to cherish her, but facing disappointment instead. The life we're headed back to in March is not the life I want for her, and this is not how I wanted to spend our last months together. The defiance that comes with being almost three has been a regular companion most days and my desire to cherish it all before we're a family of four makes for a horrible match against parenting and discipline. I swing from high to low each day, from overreacting and being overwhelmed to checking out completely and doing nothing out of defeat. I make lists to try to make sense of our lives when there's no sense or solution to be found. I know that no matter how many lists I make, it won't all get done in the two weeks we'll have to prepare, it all can't be afforded, and my experience will probably be nothing like what I'm imagining and hoping for. It will be good; nonetheless, because there's always good to be found in a new life, but I'm afraid it will be filled with more disappointment. I have no idea how I will manage two kids in all the circumstances that await us when we head back to Albuquerque. I have no idea how I will love another kid the way that I love Evie, how I will have enough good in myself to give to each of them.

If there's one thing I've learned through five years of marriage and (almost) two pregnancies, it's that life is uncontrollable. There's nothing like the change of seasons or the arrival of a new year to remind us of impermanence. I used to live under the assumption that it was in our control to bring a baby into the world at just the right time, when it would be the most convenient for us and our plans. Being (unexpectedly) pregnant through the holiday season has been a special time for me. It's given me a unique view through Mary's perspective - through all the wanderers' of the Bible. I'm sure giving birth in a manger wasn't what she had in mind. I wonder if she had thoughts along the lines of, 'Really? Right now? This can't wait until we're home? Or at least until we find a place to stay for the night?' When groups of the Bible were led this way and that, did the mothers long for home? Were they all just desperate for a place to rest and nurse their babies, for a normal life? Sometimes I'm thankful for the sporadic life we've lived, but oftentimes it has felt a lot like laying things down at each place we leave - my plans, dreams of home, financial goals, hopes of security, jobs, memories of my child. It feels a lot like closing the door on all of that and oh, how that begins to hurt after you do it repeatedly and how obvious it becomes that I'm holding tightly to things that I don't want to relinquish control of - things I think are important, but are just specks of dust in our lives.

I imagine there's a special kind of freedom that comes from giving it all up, from unclenching your fists, laying it down, and walking away - the perfectly decorated house or even a home of our own, the baby brought home to a space that is ready for them, the defiant toddler who is battling her own wills and desires, the job you've been hoping for. When all of that is stripped away, I imagine you can really begin to live because you aren't wasting a single second planning and worrying about matters that are uncontrollable. I've learned many lessons in patience and perseverance and letting things go over the last year and that's been a hard road to walk for a perfectionist.

When I was pregnant with Ev, I couldn't imagine us as a family of three. I had no idea how two kids who like to sleep in and go on sporadic adventures were going to figure out life with a baby. While it didn't feel like our normal at all in the beginning, we came to be comfortable together, effortlessly in love. How I long for that learning curve, that awkward fumbling stage, to be shorter than the last. These three years with Ev have changed me beyond recognition and I will always cherish our memories together. She will probably never remember a time without her sibling, but I will. In 2014, I learned that big changes often bring hard times with them, but there is always beauty to be found. While I don't look forward to the difficulty that might await us, I do look forward to the inevitable beauty and joy that will be found in this new season of life. I know that the fumbling feeling of a new person joining us will wear off and will all settle in to our effortless love once again.

So here's to 2015 and letting it all go and falling in love with a brand new person.

OUR FIRST SNOW!

Ev is really one of the only two year olds I've ever met who is so in tune with the weather. Each day she wakes up, each walk we take, she always mentions what the weather is like. 'It's windy today, Mama! The sun is out right now! It's rainy outside today!' As she watches the sky grow darker from the windows, she always says something along the lines of, 'It's almost night time, Mama?' As we drove over the hills and through the mountains headed into Albuquerque yesterday, she saw a hint of light on the edge of the horizon and said, 'The sun is almost down guys.' As we came to the last bend in the highway and looked out over the city, she spotted all the city lights and said, 'It was probably just all dose lights, huh?' She's been sensing the change in weather and noticing things like us putting on jackets before going outside. When she'd ask why I would tell her Winter is coming. From all of the books we've read, she knows Winter and snow go together, so she would look out the window for snow each time I said that. She's been waiting for snow for months. I'm not even sure she knew exactly what snow was, just that the concept of it was exciting. The morning of our first snow here, she woke up and peeled apart the blinds like she always does and yelled, 'Hey! There's snow out der! Winter is here!' and finished that off with a celebratory jump off the bed. The one thing she couldn't stop talking about as we donned our snow gear was tasting the snow. She remembered when I made her snow cream for the first time at our old house close to a year ago.

So we ventured outside after we had gotten all bundled up and put some breakfast in our bellies and Ev decided the first thing she wanted to do was sit and eat mittens full of snow. We went for a little walk through the woods and she spotted the Juniper berries still on the branches covered in white. We put a bowl out to catch the flakes still falling from the sky. We hit the slopes a few times with our sled in hand, but decided there wasn't quite enough on the ground to make it worth the effort. Alex tried to show her how to make a snow angel, but she was adamant that the snow would get in her eyes. When we headed back inside we made snow cream together and followed it up with a bubble bath and cups of hot tea. Later, Alex came home from work and Ev recited each ingredient of snow cream to him - there aren't many, but I gave her props for being two and remembering a recipe. This really was the perfect snow day in my opinion - the snow was fluffy, not a bit sludgy, the temperature wasn't frigid and there was no wind trying to make it's way through your jacket and into your soul. I'm probably the worst grump you'll ever meet when it comes to Winter, but my joy in each season has increased since having a two year old that loves everything about every season.

TEN ON TEN • JULY

morning view from the fire escape • breakfast time • morning light • beauty on our walk • bubbles with a friend • chats with Papa after he comes home from work • a whole lot of joy for only two quarters • beauty on an evening walk • alone time • good night, Brooklyn

SIMPLE THINGS + NOT SO SIMPLE THOUGHTS

I find myself unintentionally picking up my camera in more ordinary moments lately. It's probably my quiet revolt against a society that is trying to make everyone believe that they need to be somewhere beautiful, doing something epic, eating something delicious, having life-changing conversations with people that matter, while validating it all by sharing it 40 different places online. 'It doesn't count if no one sees me do it.' is what is ringing in our heads. We all think we're missing something if we aren't connected and the truth is that we are - we're missing real life as it passes by us, blurred glimpses seen from the edges of our screens are what people settle for. I often wonder if ten years from now children will be saying, "I wish I had been able to look up and see my mother's face more, rather than the lens of her camera/seeing her face turned down at her phone." I find myself standing in an ordinary moment, seeing extraordinary beauty so I dash out of the room to find my camera and I try to sneak back into the moment without anyone noticing that I left. Most of the time I'll get a few seconds of the genuine moment, then I'll see their eyes shift, noticing I'm there, followed shortly by a crooked smile and 'What are you doing?'

It makes things a bit quiet around here because honestly, I'm a little intimidated by the many people out there who have a skill for capturing real life in a much more beautiful way than I feel like I can. I enjoy capturing these moments, but I enjoy it for me and I'm honestly terrified of the thought of creating a business or obligation out of a hobby I've come to rely on for therapy. So I usually shy away from sharing some of the more personal pictures I take here because for a long while, in a world focused on sharing without savoring, I thought of it as cheapening. I know they're nothing special in terms of skill, but I cherish them. These moments are fleeting. They are the simple moments people miss after time has passed - your two year old discovering morning light, watching your husband shave, stuffed animals at the table.

I feel that so much of people's lives that are shared online are posed. This world demands perfection - look your best, act your best, share your best, be the best, and it's disheartening because I feel like I am the least put together woman out there for one, but I also wonder how that can be satisfying. That first statement is probably what explains the absence of pictures of myself here. It's something I realize is an issue inside of me that needs to be dealt with, my lack of taking care of myself at all for one, but also my reluctance to keep pictures of myself in which I'm not satisfied with my appearance. It's a curious thing too because I'm not necessarily self-conscious of what I look like nor do I care what other people think about me much. It's more about how I don't look the way I feel, a disconnect between the life I'm living in my head and what my appearance says about that. There are so many other things that are a bigger priority for me that I rarely think about how I'm dressed or when I ate or exercising at all, until I look at a picture of myself and it's all completely apparent to me, my lack of loving myself.

There have been a plethora of articles out there lately about 'over parenting' and being 'too busy.' My thoughts: you wouldn't have to over parent and busy yourself into exhaustion if you had someone else, a village, but we don't. We're all trying to find our solace in the internet through false connections - likes and comments and glimpses into the good parts of another woman's life that feel like relationship-building, but it's not. You may be making friends on the internet, but you still sit in your house alone every day and the saddest part is there are women around you doing the same thing, but no one wants to make the effort to build that village. If they do, we spend our hours together checking our phones. One up side I've found to all of this is that I hold onto the relationships that I am able to build more intentionally, but when you move away from each other it isn't quite the same. You still long for a community. You still feel lonely trying to do it all yourself.

Simple things Sunday is about slowing down and capturing life’s everyday details. Taking joy in the simple things is the focus and Sunday is the day we gather together to reflect on our experiences from the week and share our photos with each other.