We are going to Cali for two whole weeks! We are all so excited. San Francisco, Santa Barbara, Wine Country and Yosemite here we come. I am sure I will have many Gulliver like tales to tell. The car is packed, the houseplants will soon go in the bathtub for an experiment in hydroponics, and we will be driving at night so that Lars will sleep. Wish us luck!!
June 26, 2009
June 21, 2009
Happy Father's Day
I have 2 people to give a shout out to--
First MY dad. He's totally awesome. As most know my mom has MS and he has to do a lot of extra work to make sure the house runs smoothly and my mom is taken care of. My dad shows every day that he knows what marriage is really about. He has stuck by my mom's side when most men would... not have. To say the least. Not to say that they have the perfect marriage or that my dad is the perfect parent, but isn't that what life's about? Dealing with what you've been given, making the most of it, and at the end of the day knowing that what you did may not have been easy, or perfect, but it was what was right. That's my dad... Ethical to a fault, very selfless, extremely patient, generous (even when he grumbles about it) and he sure loves his daughters.
I love you daddy, Happy Father's day!
My second shout out is to the love of my life, my best friend, the funniest, silliest, smartest, smelliest guy I've ever known... Tor. He's not my dad, but he's my baby daddy, or Daddoo as Lars likes to call him, and he deserves some major accolades for all he does. Not only does he work REALLY hard at his job, really hard at being a dad, and really hard at being a husband, he does it without complaining. I'm not joking. Maybe it's because I'm too busy complaining for the both of us, but he goes to work, enjoys it, comes home and helps with the baby, listens to me complain about how much work the baby is, helps with dinner, listens to me complain about how hard making dinner is, and then helps clean up. He is patient, kind, brilliant, humble, easy going, generous of his time, and he would do anything for a friend, neighbor, or family member. He loves Lars and I, and shows us every day.
Now, so this doesn't get too mushy, he does have his flaws: he leaves his socks by the bed, he leaves beer bottle caps on the counter, he is lactose intolerant and still eats way too much dairy, he digs stuff out of the trash and brings it home, he won't let me throw away leftover anything, he is so ticklish I can't get near any part of his body without him convulsing, he says "like" way too much, he likes to correct my grammar, he interrupts my stories with a billion questions, he flails his arms violently when he talks, he can sleep thru the baby screaming bloody murder, and he has webbed toes.
However, I want my son to be just like him.
I love you Daddoo!
June 4, 2009
My Apologies
Tor said my last post was very sassy and he was shocked at my use of foul language. I thought about changing it, but decided that like brief nudity on TV, it was necessary to the story. Instead I offer my apologies. To those of you who have never heard nor used either of the four letter words I refer to, my most heartfelt regrets that my silly blog has compromised you. To those that expected better of me-- you should have heard me during the hike.
June 2, 2009
HARDCORE
Tor has always convinced me to go on these crazy adventures. When I putter out, which is usually, Tor tries to prod me on by telling me that I am hardcore, to which I reply that I don't want to be hardcore, I want to be regular core. Well now I have to admit that I am crazy core.
I came up with the brilliant idea to go backpacking over memorial day weekend. We planned the route, checked the weather, checked when the trail was open, and researched backpacking with a baby. I carried Lars (22 pounds) and 20 pounds of equipment and Tor carried the rest.
Side note: there's always someone out there trying to out tuff you, and mumbling "i carried 60 pounds" to that person I say: shut the hell up, this is my story! (Yes someone said this to me recently and yes I am still bitter).
Back to story: Our trip started out beautifully, the weather was perfect, the trail was beautiful, Lars had a blast looking at trees and cooing (he is truly his father's son). Then we ran into campers who said "there's snow up ahead, be careful". We scoffed in our heads and continued on. After all, the book we had said that the end of May was the best time to hike this trail. It said that the wildflowers would be in bloom in the meadow... it was wrong.
We came upon snow about a mile later, it was very brief and again we scoffed (note to self: don't scoff at mother nature until you are positive she won't b*tch slap you for it later). We kept pressing on certain that a little snow would not slow us down. We lost and found the trail several times, and finally camped near a lake certain that the next day would be oh so much better.
Day 2 turned out the be the day that shall remain unnamed. The snow got deeper the trail harder to follow and find and my feet and legs got cold. Lars was still having a blast but I was not. Finally we stopped to rest at/on the middle of a hill/ravine and Tor decided we could no longer go forward. The trail was lost, we were nearly lost, night was coming and I was inconsolable. So, we turned around, hiked back up the mountain we had just come down, and camped in the middle of the trail (in the middle of the snow) so we would not lose it come morning. I cried a lot and Tor promised me tomorrow would be better.
The third day we turned around and hiked 12 miles up the other mountain we had just come down and back down the side we had climbed the first day. As we reached the beginning of the snow we spit on it and cursed at it and kissed the brown earth. We made it back to the car after 8 hours of hiking, drove home, ordered pizza, climbed into the hot tub at our apartment and promptly got the worst case of folliculitis ever.
I swore the whole 2nd day and part of the 3rd that I would never step foot in the wilderness again, but like many things, the trauma has faded over time and we will be going camping this summer.
I had this recurring fear when I was pregnant and first found out that Lars was going to be a boy that I would be forever tired. I imagined my life as a long series of adventures in which I struggled to keep up with my adventurous husband and son. I am half delighted and half terrified that this prediction has become a reality.
Wish me luck...
I came up with the brilliant idea to go backpacking over memorial day weekend. We planned the route, checked the weather, checked when the trail was open, and researched backpacking with a baby. I carried Lars (22 pounds) and 20 pounds of equipment and Tor carried the rest.
Side note: there's always someone out there trying to out tuff you, and mumbling "i carried 60 pounds" to that person I say: shut the hell up, this is my story! (Yes someone said this to me recently and yes I am still bitter).
Back to story: Our trip started out beautifully, the weather was perfect, the trail was beautiful, Lars had a blast looking at trees and cooing (he is truly his father's son). Then we ran into campers who said "there's snow up ahead, be careful". We scoffed in our heads and continued on. After all, the book we had said that the end of May was the best time to hike this trail. It said that the wildflowers would be in bloom in the meadow... it was wrong.
We came upon snow about a mile later, it was very brief and again we scoffed (note to self: don't scoff at mother nature until you are positive she won't b*tch slap you for it later). We kept pressing on certain that a little snow would not slow us down. We lost and found the trail several times, and finally camped near a lake certain that the next day would be oh so much better.
Day 2 turned out the be the day that shall remain unnamed. The snow got deeper the trail harder to follow and find and my feet and legs got cold. Lars was still having a blast but I was not. Finally we stopped to rest at/on the middle of a hill/ravine and Tor decided we could no longer go forward. The trail was lost, we were nearly lost, night was coming and I was inconsolable. So, we turned around, hiked back up the mountain we had just come down, and camped in the middle of the trail (in the middle of the snow) so we would not lose it come morning. I cried a lot and Tor promised me tomorrow would be better.
The third day we turned around and hiked 12 miles up the other mountain we had just come down and back down the side we had climbed the first day. As we reached the beginning of the snow we spit on it and cursed at it and kissed the brown earth. We made it back to the car after 8 hours of hiking, drove home, ordered pizza, climbed into the hot tub at our apartment and promptly got the worst case of folliculitis ever.
I never got to see my meadow full of wildflowers, all I saw was dirty melting snow (which is impossible to walk in).
I swore the whole 2nd day and part of the 3rd that I would never step foot in the wilderness again, but like many things, the trauma has faded over time and we will be going camping this summer.
I had this recurring fear when I was pregnant and first found out that Lars was going to be a boy that I would be forever tired. I imagined my life as a long series of adventures in which I struggled to keep up with my adventurous husband and son. I am half delighted and half terrified that this prediction has become a reality.
Wish me luck...
At the beggining of our trip
Lars and I waiting for dinner in the tent
Lars' playpen of nature. We had to "fence" him in so he wouldn't crawl all over creation. He loved his little charlie brown tree.
Chillin' after dinner. Lars really liked drinking out of the camel pak
Camping in the snow. Mama was NOT happy.
Tor and Lars were much more suited to the cold weather.
Lars playing with another tree on a short break after we got out of the snow.
P.S. The weather was warm the entire time and we were never in any real danger of being lost. Tor is much too smart for that. Unfortuantely for us and some others it was a late snow season. That next day on the news I saw a report on two hikers who got lost for three days because they lost their trail in the snow.
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