spring Archives - pnw mountain mommy

I woke up with a vision.

It was sunny, it seemed soft and inviting. Tulips were everywhere, our trees were parading their fresh green leaves around like it was Paris fashion week.

I. Was. Feeling. It.

So I made a grand pronouncement to my family:

“I will be taking my coffee on the deck.”

Everyone was impressed. They didn’t say they were impressed, but I could tell by how they reacted: Ben smiled with a mixture of hope and pity while he grabbed his coffee to go and headed to work. The Cub wailed about how he didn’t want to eat his oatmeal while simultaneously eating his oatmeal, and he couldn’t POSSIBLY go outside with me until he had eaten all of my eggs. The Bay Leaf smiled a big gummy smile and immediately had a blow out.

I was off to a great start.

Once the Cub had eaten all his oatmeal and his own eggs, and then eaten mine, he seemed open to the idea. Once the Bay Leaf had been changed, for the third time this morning, she also seemed game.

With my coffee still lukewarm, I struck out for the sun-washed wooden mecca of my perfect morning. It took three trips. First trip: the Bay Leaf’s baby quilt (handmade by my best friend Eryka who runs an amazing little etsy store which is currently dedicated to making masks instead of quilts). Second trip: My coffee mug and toys for continual baby distraction. Third trip: The Cub’s bike, and consequently, the Cub.

In my vision I sat on the handmade little quilt with my sweet bitty Bay Leaf. She would look up at me with frequent love and adoration, but would mostly just babble at her toys. In my vision the Cub jumped his bike off the little step on our deck and rode around in the sun, occasionally stopping to give me a hug and a kiss and tell me what an amazing mother and best friend I was. He’d offer to freshen my coffee, maybe bake me a scone. I would look out and see the top of Mt. Hood silhouetted in the morning light while I sipped my coffee and smelled all the cherry tree smells.

So, these things didn’t happen.

My coffee got steadily colder as I tried to keep the Cub from running over his baby sister. I waged a losing campaign to keep the Bay Leaf focused on her toys instead of trying to stuff pine needles in her mouth. I had to get up and wrangle Marmot who was barking at the neighbors (who, I’m pretty sure are convinced, I keep a rabid dog for fun).

Despite the often harrowing attempts at keeping the children from self-inflicted injury and choking, I did manage to sit in the sun for a bit. I got to watch the Cub scoot around on his bike and he asked me to take so many slow-mo videos of him my phone died. The Bay Leaf only managed to eat like… three pine needles and possibly an ant. Marmot, despite the ferocity of his bark and the fluffiness of his hackles, didn’t jump any gates and did get in a sun soak.

And I, in great swaths of seconds, managed to look at Mt. Hood and drink my coffee before tearing off after the toddler.

Was it my vision? I mean… no. But, it was nice. I did it. And I even got a kid-imposed workout in there too. Turns out my mom reflexes are still in tip-top shape. Ain’t nobody flying down a flight of wooden stairs on my watch.

Sending love from on top of the hill,

Today I am perched at the end of my writing chair. I’m wondering why the keys on my laptop are SO INCREDIBLY LOUD and how I didn’t notice that before. My back is hunched and also stretched slightly to one side, in an attempt to maintain front-heavy equilibrium. Why am I so uncomfortable, you ask? Won’t that hamper the writing process, you ask?

Yep. It’s extremely counter productive.

But it’s also the only way I’m keeping this baby asleep.

She refused to nap in her crib. She did this new thing while nursing, I’ll refer to it as: ‘The Snapping Turtle’ and after my continual surprised gasps, apparently couldn’t get comfortable. Obviously my fault. How dare I express verbal discomfort. Nipples are for snapping, mom. I decree it.

So decreed, I find myself with a napping baby in the sling. I’ve dedicated this first nap of the day to creativity and so, even in this less-than-ideal turn of events, I’m writing. I’m even drinking tea! Not hot tea, of course. Can’t chance a spill. So, you know, lukewarm tea. It’s good though. As a mom, most of the things I drink are lukewarm. Rarely are hot beverages drank hot or cold beverages drank cold. Lukewarm is the state of my beverages and somehow the state of my being.

It’s beautiful outside again today. These seventy degree days make shelter-in-place a lot more fun. Being in the sun helps everything. Of course, it also starts the internal simmer. Days like this I want to be in the mountains. I want to feel my shoes on dirt trails and the smell of growing things.

Lucky for us, we moved into our dream house a year ago and the smell of growing things is everywhere. The landscape here is unreal. The cherry trees, the dozens and dozens of giant tulips and carpets of bluebells. Even trilliums! We have bunches of trilliums here! I’ve never seen a trillium domesticated, so having some of my very own is about as magical as it gets.

The cherry blossoms are starting to disappear, replaced with new green leaves. There are less petals to sweep up, though they continue to form little drifts along our walkway like some delicate pink-stained snow. Spring is beautiful on top of the hill, with its birdsong and big trees and lush gardens.

Soon we’ll be back out in the yard, the Cub will be riding his bike all over the makeshift ramps that Ben built, and Bay will be in her sling, peeking out at the world, soaking in some Springtime scents and sights. I’ll be drinking lukewarm tea or maybe a second cup of lukewarm coffee. It’ll be wonderful, and now that we’re observing shelter-in-place, there won’t be nearly as many people out to see me weirdly hunched over and leaning to one side while I carefully shuffle around trying to maintain baby sling buoyancy.

Sending love from on top of the hill,

Try Some Self Care, They Said

Lukewarm Equilibrium