Surf

Watching surfing makes me wonder if I'm doing everything wrong.  

The most beautiful thing in the world to me is a child playing in total freedom...

I think about raising my kids in freedom a lot.  It's pretty much the most important goal to me parenting-wise.  It's also just an interesting concept in general.  For these surfer kids to go out into the ocean alone, they had to learn a lot of rules.  Firstly, they have to be a good swimmer.  They also have to know how to operate in the surf so they don't die or get smashed against the rocks etc.  Then I suppose there's all sorts of surfing etiquette that I don't know about.  Anyway, my point is that they learned these things (at a very young age) and then their parents set them free to experience something pretty amazing.  Now they get to experience the infinite possibilities of being human.  Think what you will about Ruldof Steiner, but he was right about one thing:  "Receive the children in reverence, educate them in love, and set them forth in freedom."

I love Minneapolis, but I miss watching the boys in the woods in Michigan.  I also miss experiencing nature through their eyes.  I miss setting them free for an entire day outside.  I'm a country mouse at heart I guess.  The chickens are helping with this.

There's a turtle in this picture...

I Was At The Beach And It Was Good

When Chris suggested we go to Hawaii my first response was, "You know that it's entirely surrounded by water, right?"

When I was little I used to think there were tigers in the ocean.  I knew it didn't make any sense, but I also knew it was true, which was disorienting and made the ocean even more frightening.  Then I learned about undertow and I was like, "Yeah, that's it for me.  Relationship over."  

As a grown-up I feel a responsibility to enjoy the ocean, but I'll admit that I was relieved that the water was too cold for swimming when we were in Cape Cod before James was born.  But!  I really did enjoy myself at the beach in Hawaii.  Part of that was because I didn't have to worry about the boys being swept out to sea by a force bigger than myself.  The other part was that the beaches on the south side of Maui were mellow.  And warm.  And not overly windy.  And there were other people there, but it wasn't too crowded.  Yeah, and it was beautiful.

Here's photographic evidence that I went in the ocean and enjoyed myself...

Yellowstone is 4 hours Too Far

It crossed both our minds to just lie to people and tell them that Yellowstone was GREAT!  But the truth is, we got to the Big Horn Mountains about four hours away from Yellowstone and decided to turn back.

I really wasn't expecting the trip to be as exhausting as it was since we've made the 11 hour drive to Michigan several times fairly efficiently and without any problems.  Yes, it was exhausting.  But it was still a great trip.  It just wasn't as easy as I had anticipated.

Yoga at rest stops helped.  And that's probably the only time you'll ever hear me say anything good about yoga.

There were several times when I needed to summon my inner Buddha.  Like the time when we pulled up to our reserved campsite at 10:30 at night and found it was being used because our reservation was for August 24th, not July.  Or when someone had to pee five minutes after we got back on the highway from a bathroom break (DANNY...  I'm looking at you here.)

Also, I never figured out why it took 2 hours to pack the campsite back into the car.  We were never on the road before 10.

There were two other things that were completely my fault that added a thin mist of anxiety to the air.  One was that I forgot to get the oil changed in the van and it was 1,000 miles overdue which meant that the car was repeatedly asking me to change the oil and I was worried that the engine was going to melt the whole time.  The other even stupider thing was that I decided we would bring some monarch caterpillars along with us because I don't know why.

I made some feeble attempts to find someone to watch them but I didn't try too hard because I figured I could just stick a water jar in a cup holder and they would be fine because they don't leave their food source.  But I obviously didn't think it through because the milkweed plant that I picked died pretty quickly from being in the hot car and once we got far into South Dakota, I couldn't find any milkweed anywhere.

"Welcome to South Dakota.  We hate you and your caterpillars."

I was racked with what most people would consider an inordinate amount of guilt because I was sure they were going to die of starvation.  It's really sad when this happens because when the plant becomes inedible, the caterpillars decide that they must go in search of food and they wander off even though their chances of finding another plant are pretty slim.  So wise and brave, these caterpillars.  Anyway, as you can see I get sentimental about caterpillars.  Luckily I DID MANAGE TO FIND A HUGE PATCH OF MILKWEED!  I was astonished.  So we set them free in the Black Hills.  I'm choosing not to think about whether or not they are going to survive in a completely different location from where the hatched, or if it will screw up their internal navigation if they manage to make it to the butterfly stage.  I asked a naturalist at a state park if they have monarchs in S.D. and she said they did, but they're very rare.  So that's a glimmer of hope at least.

This is the face of the person who thought that bringing caterpillars on a road trip was just a fine idea.

After the caterpillar drama was resolved I felt much better.  The Black Hills!  So fun!

We were there for two nights and then hit the road again, thinking we'd do the 8 hours in one day and be in Yellowstone before bedtime.  But we only got four hours west before the evening set in and had to find a campsite in the Big Horn Mountains, which is pretty much exactly half way between the Black Hills and Yellowstone.

This individual is the main reason we didn't make it to Yellowstone and he's going to have to live with that.

Ahhh...  Los Big Horns...  I found them to be overwhelming.  It was 30 degrees so we all crammed into the big tent.

And I spent the entire night awake worrying.  I've never experienced that level of intensity of wind and lightning before, so thanks for that, Big Horns.  I take back what I said about it taking two hours to pack up the campsite, because I just realized that we were out of there the next morning in about 45 minutes.  Also, there were hungry bears lurking around every tree.

Pretty sure there's a hungry bear back there.

Terror Mountain

It was beautiful and overwhelming and made me feel very small.  I'd like to go back with a down parka and a wool hat and probably mittens and a lot of bear spray.  We were just underprepared for that amount of wilderness I think.

Get me the fuck out of here.

I talked to some other campers and they told us that it was going to be colder in Yellowstone because the elevation was higher.  So...  BACK TO THE BLACK HILLS!   Where it is partly cloudy and 80 degrees!  And there aren't any bugs!  Or bears!  Or mountain lions!

We stayed there for two more nights and then headed home with a stop in the Badlands and Wall Drug.  

More pictures to come.

We park at the school and when the car doors open, the three big boys scatter.  It is the end of the day and it's a struggle to hold the boys in my heart when we need to be somewhere on time, my body is tired, Chris is on nights, I'm carrying James and he's heavy.  Sometimes in situations like this, I can be revived by eye contact, a smile, a question that reminds me of their innocence.  But at this point, they've all scattered.  Matthew is already rolling down the hill. 

"Boys, we need to stick together."  That doesn't work.  I should have "Called a meeting."  That sometimes works because it sounds interesting and a little dramatic.
"Come back.  BOYS.  Borger boys.  Stop running."  They return, although distracted by that hill and that set of stairs with the fast railing and that bike rack perfect for balancing on.
"Guys, please don't run away as soon as you get out of the car.  We need to stick together.  What if one of us could use some help.  Stick close by and make sure that everyone is okay.  Take care of each other..."
When my words of wisdom stop...  No one says anything, or even acknowledges that I've been speaking... they just scatter again.  Back to the hill, Danny follows and everything he rolls over is now stuck to his wool sweater and he looks like a ridiculous hobo.  And I am his hobo Mom who hasn't showered in three days, yelling while tying to free James from his car seat straps.

"Okay guys, come on let's go together.  Okay, stop running."  I get an idea:  "Come sit on this bench with me a moment so we can talk.  Get over here NOW and sit on this bench."  SMACK.  Matthew trips as he's running toward the bench and hits his chin on the edge.
I say "God damn it."  He tries to be brave.  The wound swells, but doesn't need stitches.  I wish I hadn't gotten angry and said, "This is exactly what I was talking about!  Stop being so wild!"  because he really wasn't.  In fact, rolling down a hill is probably safer than running towards a bench.  And it's a normal thing for a four year old boy to do when he sees a hill.


Blechk.

I desperately establish the rule that they need to ask if it's a good time for running before they start.  I'm uncomfortable with this new rule even as I establish it.  It seems pretty lame and oppressive.  I need to come up with something else.  More lectures?  Establish expectations before the van comes to a complete stop maybe?

When we leave the school I say, NOW you can run.  It sucks to tell three young boys on the first warm day in months, so warm that they don't even have to wear coats, that they can or can't run and be wild.  Of course that's exactly what they should be doing.

Tomorrow is coming.  And that means I have a chance to make it better than today.