Palouse Falls on Mother’s Day

I ask for only one thing on Mother’s Day: that my sweet husband and kids go hiking with me . . . with no complaining.

Sometimes I feel like I might be the only mother in a hundred miles who asks such a thing of her family.

 

Me and my two munchkins, Sweet Bean and Lil’ Moose.

So many mother’s I know personally and on Facebook will receive the gift of a day off — to have some peace and quiet or to pamper themselves with a massage or a pedicure — or will go to a fancy brunch with family. All of these things sound fun (I love a good pedicure!), but every year, when Mr. A asks me what I want — and he is happily prepared to give me whatever I ask — I listen to my heart. What is it I most need right now to rejuvenate myself? What do I need, independent of everyone else in my life? And every year I seem to come back to the same thing: I want to be with the 3 people I love most; I want to be out in nature; I want to hike.

Yeah, silly me.

But it turns out I am NOT the only one.

One of the sights on our “local bucket list” (as opposed to our “global or life-long bucket list”) is Palouse Falls. I decided that this was where I wanted to go this year, before the spring flows recede completely. I feel like we made it a little later than was ideal, but it was still beautiful.

Palouse Falls. Just north of the Snake River in southeastern Washington. Image by the Author.

This is the view downstream from the falls. Image by Author.

The rock formation at the top of the falls is called Castle Rock. It looks to be nestled at the base of the hillside, but it is a peninsula of sorts, isolated on one side by the river and on the other by basin below the falls. Image by Author.

Our friends had the same locale on their local bucket list and so we made the trip together. They are so wonderful to have around and so easy to travel with, it made for a relaxing and fun day for the adults and the kids.

Ironically, after driving for almost 3 hours through dirt and wheat fields without encountering many people or buildings we had trouble finding a parking space. It seems there were a lot of mamas who wanted to see the falls.

The parking lot is very close to a look out point where you can see the falls. From there you can hike over the bluff to a steep trail that takes you down to a first set of small falls.

The trail winds over the bluff and then back down into this canyon and a small set of waterfalls before the larger Palouse Falls. Image by Author.

The small set of waterfalls up close. Image by Author.

As you can see, we were not the only people who decided to get outside for Mother’s Day. Image by Author.

This was the perfect place to soak our feet and play in the water before heading a short bit further to Castle Rock and the top of the main waterfall.

Sweet Bean looking downriver. Image by Author.

I knew the fast water through this section was cold, but I guess it tickled too. Image by Author.

Lil’ Moose soaking his feet. He may not be as adventurous as his sister but he LOVES water. Image by Author.

Some people really wanted to cool off. Misogi!! Image by Author.

 

Most of us decided to continue onward and peek out over the top of the larger waterfall. It was a steep climb, but well worth the view.

Mr. A helping Lil’ Moose on the trail up the Castle Rock. Image by Author.

Looking out over the top of Palouse Falls. Image by Author.

Standing on the backside of Castle Rock. From here you can really see how the hillside falls off steeply on either side of the pinnacles. Image by Author.

 

It was a wonderful day and I could not have been a happier mama. It feels so cheesy to say, but there is not a day that goes by that I do not feel grateful and lucky that I live with the three souls inhabiting my house. They are full of compassion, generosity, and insane amounts of humor (that sometimes even makes me laugh, though not always). Strong wills and funny escapades aside, there are no three people I would have rather spent my day with.

So beautiful! Imagine what it looks like during flood stage when the water extends over the entire expanse of flat rock.
Palouse Falls, WA. Image by Author.

 

Love and joy: Or, how I spent my Mother’s Day wondering why I had kids

You have to understand that with my sweet and wonderful Mr. A it is ALL about the to-do list. There are so many things he wants to do, so much he wants to accomplish, and so many things that he enjoys doing that if he’s not doing he starts to twitch. Now this isn’t entirely true. Only most of the time.

The truth is I can be almost as bad. And when we begin to feed off of each other, it’s a manic mansion around here. So when Mr. A asked me what I wanted to do for Mother’s Day, I said emphatically, to slow things down. As my blogger friend Tatiana would say, life is like sex. It can’t always be just hard and fast or only slow and sensual. Variety is key. And right now I need some slow, old-time romancing.

Bedroom-talk aside, I just wanted some love and lots of time with the two people who fill my life with love and joy: Towhead and Mr. A. Saturday the three of us worked outside in the garden, did errands, and cleaned house. We took the time to make bead necklaces when Towhead just insisted. We set up our new patio furniture and ate dinner outside. It was lovely.

Sunday we slept in, which felt more than lovely. (Mr. A of course bemoaned the fact that he hadn’t gotten up early and made me a special breakfast. I smacked him and told him I liked sleeping in with him more.) After a late breakfast the three of us headed out to Cheney to take a hike on the Columbia Highlands trail. It’s a fairly wide trail that runs through wet marshes, rolling hills, and meadows rimmed with fir and pine. Mr. A says this is technically scablands, but that ugly name doesn’t do justice to the variety of birds, wildflowers and beautiful scenery we saw. A portion of the trail runs through Turnbull Wildlife Refuge, which boasts one of the largest elk populations in the area.

We set out thinking we’d walk the 1.25 miles to the boundary of Turnbull and then mosey on back. A round trip of 2.5 miles is not out of Towhead’s range by a longshot, so off we went (two days earlier she went on an hour-long walk with a friend and I and ran, some of it uphill, more than half that time). An hour later we still hadn’t even made it halfway. There was whining, and outright dropping herself in the gravel to say she needed a break (100 yds in). I’m not sure what happened but I think it’s safe to say that my little adventurous girl, dressed to the hilt in her binos and everything, got bored.

I love my kid more than anything. And I’m finding, as the years go by, that I love LOVE being a mom. There is no other event or activity in my life that has brought me such joy or taught me more about myself than becoming a mom. When I look at all the traits about myself that I am most proud of, the majority of the lessons that have fully developed those traits have sprung out of motherhood. Pregnancy taught me how to better move from my center. Natural childbirth taught me about my own physical limits and proved to me how strong the connection is between body and mind. Working and nursing a newborn while Mr. A completed his master’s fieldwork taught me how unnecessary so many baby-gadgets and material objects can be, and that I am more resilient, strong, and adaptable than I ever suspected. There is nothing I am more proud of than the time I have spent as a mom. And no one I love more than the two people who have made all that a reality.

But as I held Mr. A’s hand and looked into his eyes – and then back at the lil stinker behind us – there was nothing I wanted more than to walk through the world with just him. He is the other half of my brain and holds the whole of my heart. I remember realizing, not long after we started dating, that this was what love should be. Before him I thought love meant giving up part of yourself, that somehow you ended up with less of yourself in the bargain. And that always made me uncomfortable. But with Mr. A suddenly it meant that there was more; that being together doubled the square footage instead of cramming two of us into the space previously occupied by one. And in that space there was room for me to expand, grow, and learn.

How much of an oxymoron is it that I spent Mother’s Day weekend loving my family, feeling my new son kick and squirm inside me, thoroughly enjoying and laughing at my girl, and wishing that Mr. A and I were still roaming the world hand in hand with no wee ones to take our time away from each other?

It was wonderful. And I woke up today, snuggling with my daughter, and wishing it would never end.

I Must Know It ALL Now: or, Why? Who? What? Where? How? When?

I have anticipated this moment for years. Daydreamed about the smart, balanced and witty responses I would give when my girl got to this age. How we would sit together in front of the computer and look up answers to all those elusive questions, like “Do sharks have ears?” (We looked that one up last night). The science experiments we would perform in the kitchen to discover what happens when you mix yellow and blue, or you stick a magnet in water. Kids should ask questions, and I want(ed) to give her the honest, thought-provoking answers her little mind wants, needs, and deserves. (You’d think after 3 years I’d have lost that idealist tendency.)

I’ve also dreaded the constant flow of questions. You know, the 15 that come flooding out of her mouth before I’ve had breakfast (idealist tendencies fade drastically at 6am). Especially the ones that repeat and have no purpose – “Mom, why didn’t you let me wear a dress at school pictures?” As with all aspects of life, there can be too much of a good thing. I love her curiosity. I love that she’s  stubborn,  opinionated, and feisty as well as being gentle, loving, and helpful. That is, I love it in the right mixture. When all I get is the first three along with a lot of questions and demands I get, as my girl says, “cranky.”

The other day was the perfect example of why I love and hate this phase.

Towhead and I were leaving swim lessons when Mr. A called. We were both tired and decided to splurge for the first time in over a month and go out to eat. After getting in the car, I told Towhead we were off to meet Dad for Mexican food.

“What that sticking out of that car?” she asked. Huh? Subject change. OK.

“That? That’s a tailpipe sweetie.” I shut the door and get in the car.

“But why is it there?” she continues.

“It lets out all the bad smoke from the engine.”

“Why?”

“Because otherwise the car would blow up.”

“But that car doesn’t have one,” she points out as we drive through the parking lot.

“Yes it does.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Yes. It does. All cars have them. You may not be able to see it because it’s hiding under the bumper, but it’s there.”

“No it’s not.”

“Sure it is. I’ll show you when we get to the restaurant. There look at the car next to us. See that pipe sticking out the side. Right next to you. That’s it’s tailpipe.”

“Oh. But our car doesn’t have one.”

“Yes. It does,” I say trying not to grit my teeth. “Want me to show you when we get to the restaurant?”

“Sure. Can I have chicken fingers?”

“I’m not sure they have chicken fingers. But we’ll check on the menu and see what they’ve got. Maybe rice and beans.”

“What’s a menu?”

“The thing that lists all the food you can get at the restaurant.”

“Mama, there’s my moon!”

“Yup.”

“It’s a half-circle. How come it’s not a circle?”

I launched into the hole schpeel about how the sun and earth move and that changes how much of the moon you can see. It’s always a circle you just can’t always see it all. I should mention that I’ve given this speech at least 5 or 6 times already. Also, keep in mind that this was only the first two minutes of a 5-minute long car ride. Questions continued rapid-fire and in totally random order. And even after that I spent a minute or two in the parking lot proving to her that yes, each car has a tailpipe but that they’re sometimes in different locations on the car.

I”m not sure how long I can keep it up. The good news is that I prepared for some of this years ago when I bought the Handy Science Answer Book. That and the web make answering random questions a lot easier. I just don’t think I was anticipating that all those questions would come at me in such a rapid fire fashion. Or that she would argue with me about the answers I give her!! I shouldn’t say anything (insert my mom’s laughter here) because I know I did the same thing to my mother. She’s learning and right now her own experience, limited though it may be, is as powerful as anything I say. Damn her for being as stubborn and feisty as her mother!

Mr. A, being the youngest of three, has a great sense of humor over things like this. A sadistic sense of humor, but funny nonetheless. I must learn this skill. I get too sucked in and actually try to answer all her questions.  Because I love to teach, I love to see the lightbulbs go on. I realize now that much of that will never change. The world is an amazing place and I want nothing more than to continue to explore it with her, and show her all it has to offer. But I’ve also noticed recently that I’m beginning, in my tired, working mom world to take it too seriously.

No more. The boxing gloves are off and the whoopie cushions are out, baby.

Who knew we’d buy a new canoe?

Here’s a brief photo essay of what we’ve been up to the last few weeks:

A few weeks ago the Shrine Circus was in town. We decided to go the day of, and I’m glad we did. It brought back so many memories of going to see the circus with my Papa, who is a Shriner. As an adult I was afraid I wouldn’t like it – that it wouldn’t be as thrilling,  that I would see was the exploitation of people and animals. To my delight that is not what I saw. It was fantastic and a ton of fun! And yes, Towhead and I got to ride the elephant.

Towhead’s school hosted a “Mother’s Day Tea” on Friday. All the moms came for lunch and the kids were waiting for us with handmade gifts. I’ve never done anything like this before. If Towhead ever made me a gift I usually was the one to decide what it was and help her put it together. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing I like more than designing a craft project for her and letting her go to work. But this was awfully nice! The screaming fit she threw as I left (in her two months at school this is the first one ever) kinda put a damper on things though.

Mother’s Day weekend couldn’t have been better. We had friends over for homemade clamchowder, and played cards until late. Sunday Mr. A and CT made me pancakes and we took a bike ride. As if these weren’t enough, there was the  unexpected surprise of finding a canoe for sale that we could afford!The plan is to test it out next weekend. I’m vibrating in anticipation. All three of us loved the canoe trip we took last summer and have been looking for a canoe to buy ever since. This is the new baby, a 15 ft Coleman:

And then there’s the tulips that have been brightening my mornings.

Stick to What you Know

OK, so I haven’t quite kept up with my promise to blog more often. The truth is there are tons of things I’m interested in and want to comment on: the tragedy of Afghan girls being sprayed with acid for trying to attend school, the idiocy of Fox News reporters who compared global warming to their thyriod problem, my outrage at doctors who help a single mom give birth to 8 more kids she can’t support while we admonish developing nations like India to hand out birth control and reign in their rampant population growth. I’m at no loss of things to say, but I lack the time for  the research and reflection I want to back up my opinion. So I’ve decided instead of feeling inadequate that I cannot add political commentator to my already long list of jobs, I’ll write more about what I’ve been occupying my time doing, learning, and refining these past few months. Yep, you guessed it: domestic shit. But hey, aren’t we all domestic beings at one time or another?

I’ll start with crafts. For Christmas I decided to make lacing cards for my niece and CT. They were surprising easy. I pasted pictures onto a lightweight cardboard, put contact paper on both sides, and punched holes in the card. Plastic tapestry needles tied to a long bit of yarn were the finishing touch.

We had some cloth bags in the closet that our sheets came in. These worked great to keep everything contained.

 

I also spent quite a bit of time over the holidays knitting. I made scarf for Mr. A’s sister. I learned how to knit from a wonderful friend of mine in early 2005.  At the time I was on fire; I couldn’t sit still. There was so much I wanted to do and to accomplish. Mr. A was out in the field, tracking sage grouse, and I had made an abitious list of goals to keep my mind off the fact that I missed him. It backfired. I ended up with a sinus infection, but even then I couldn’t stop. I barely had the energy to walk from the sofa to the kitchen, but I remember setting a lawnchair next to the garden so I could weed and plant for a couple minutes at a time.  I felt like an old woman who was determined to live with a vengance even though my body couldn’t keep up. Knitting saved me. It gave me something to focus on while my body was allowed to rest. I’m normally not that driven; I know when to rest. But that point in time was an anomoly.

My knitting hasn’t progressed much beyond hats and scarves. More complicated pieces are hard with a kid running around. But it still helps me relax. And I guess I just like making things – whether it’s writing, cooking, drawing, or crafty stuff, I like to create. Anyway, this is the latest completed project.

 

For the next post I’ll probably be in the kitchen, the place my research, our lifestyle, and our stomachs keep leading me back to.

Things that make you feel like a bad mom. . .

or things that simply make you realize that you have a two-year-old. And kids this age do weird and funny things.

Like when I turn your back at the gym to put my shirt in a locker. This takes a total of 3 seconds (I later timed it). When I heard a bang and did an about face, Crazy Towhead was nowhere to be found. The thoughts that cross my mind in following seconds range fairly predictably from “where’d she go now?” to “OMG, did someone grab her.” But before panic sets in I hear more banging and a small voice singing gleefully. Where was she, you might ask? She had shut herself in one of the floor length lockers.  

Next. Walking out the parking lot. I place my backpack in the front seat. I turn around and a playful Towhead is hemming and hawing on the grass. “Come on girl. We’re gonna go home and get lunch.” She continues to swing her hips and avoid looking directly at me. “Now.” I begin to open the car door, ready to insist even more stringently when Towhead darts toward the car. And like a bull in the ring, rams her nose directly into the object in front of her. Ouch. If only I had waited to open the door, I think while she whimpers and grabs her nose. Or perhaps I should say, if only she wasn’t so bullheaded.