Spring break mountain escape

Posted on | April 2, 2015 | 1 Comment

Last week was spring break, which for us isn't really any different since the babes are so little and we work the life of nurses. Regardless of this, we managed to squeeze in one day off as a family and decided we'd head up the mountains, as we had heard there was snow up there (a few weeks prior almost all the reachable snow was gone which is just crazy early). A short hour and a half drive and we found just what we were looking for - a day amongst fresh powder, quiet solitude, and mountain air.

Hazel was wearing my old snowsuit which is nearly 30 years old and at the end of the day didn't quite do the job we hoped it would do, haha. The beautiful thing about a child, however, is she didn't even notice or care that she was soaked down to her undies.

We fired up the jet boil and had coffee & cocoa with a mountain view - pure bliss.

The girls went sledding (J's first time!) and it immediately brought me back to Hazel at about Juniper's age and how much she belly-laughed her first time as well. It's funny how different the two of them are. Juniper loved it, as you can see in the photo, but she was very quiet & simply took it all in with a smile throughout the day. Hazel at that age was very verbal how her excitement, always blabbing & we knew exactly how she felt. I've been able to tell their personality differences from the start, it will be interesting to see if it continues.

I sat by this pond and nursed June before we left for a solid 10-15 minutes while B & H had snacks back at the car. There was a moment of complete contentment between us, where even June seemed to appreciate the stillness and calm. I will hold that moment forever.

Hoping the rest of your spring breaks were lovely, friends.

Category: Oregon , Photography , sisters , snow , spring , spring break

Serendipity

Posted on | March 20, 2015 | 1 Comment

This week has been a week of sickness. You know the type -- it's the beginning of spring and you think you're in the clear from all the late winter nastiness out there when BAM suddenly the kids are up crying and puking at night, of course hours after you've put freshly laundered sheets on the beds (seriously). Dad & I had to take a day off due to this double trouble and we decided yesterday a car nap was the best way to get actual long naps in them since they had both been sleeping and napping so poorly due to congestion. So we hopped in the car and headed upriver, giant coffees in hand.

We ended up at a spot that we discovered when we first explored Western Oregon looking to move here -- it's a place we camped at many times sans kids, staying up drinking local ale and listening to Death Cab for Cutie, a tarp over our campsite as a effort to stay dry (Oregon camping, duh). I remember sitting on this riverbank wishing for babies, as we had been trying to conceive to no avail for about two years at the time. I remember the lyrics 'I need you so much closer' I was listening to one day while watching B fish, and it was exactly how I felt about these future babies of mine. The ache was so raw, so consuming. Now here I am, 5 years later, with two sweet girls who watch their daddy fish from this same spot.

Some days it all feels so serendipitous. We were always where we needed to be but simply didn't see it. We discovered one another as man and wife longer than some get to have. We moved twice, went on some amazing adventures, & bought a home in the country we may not have found had our path been gone differently. It's hard to see those lovely consequences in the midst of infertility.

And guess what? Waking up to this river with our little backstory was just what the girls needed. Their runny noses and congestion were no match for the beautiful sounds of mother nature, the calm they truly needed. They played in the sand and hiked in the forest, giggling and singing like the happy souls they are. And I was left feeling whole, as if my life was leading up to this moment, middle of the night vomiting and all. Because life is what you make it. And mine, well it is simply beautiful.

Category: babywearing , Love , marriage , Motherhood , Nature , Oregon , sisters

Oregon, j'adore!

Posted on | March 13, 2015 | No Comments

"As a child, one has that magical capacity to move among the many eras of the earth; to see the land as an animal does; to experience the sky from the perspective of a flower or a bee; to feel the earth quiver and breathe beneath us; to know a hundred different smells of mud and listen unself- consciously to the soughing of the trees.

-Valerie Andrews, A Passion for this Earth

The weather around these parts has been downright stupendous lately. It's been one of those eerily nice winters that make you brace yourself for a downpour of a spring or freak snowstorm that shuts down the entire county. But for now we're taking in every bit of this sunshine & warmth.

What has your neck of the woods looked like?

Category: Oregon , Photography , spring

A Day In My Life

Posted on | March 5, 2015 | No Comments

Below is my audition for the sling diaries, volume V1. What's sling diaries, you ask? It's a photo-documentary that chronicles the art of babywearing and the lives of different families. I first learned about Sakura Bloom last year while pregnant with Juniper, and quickly fell in love with the beauty, ease, and versatility of the slings as well as the stories each sling diarist at the time shared. Their words were beautiful yet raw, and I met many amazing mommas through their community. Thank you to the Sakura Bloom team for this opportunity, as it's inspired me to start writing more which is something that's always been a part of me I hold dear. The theme for this entry is 'a day in my life.'

****

My sweet Saplings,

I've missed writing you letters. This blog is filled with letters to Hazel, and even a letter to Juniper right before she was born (and I guessed she was a he!) so I thought I'd start again. Hazel, I can't believe you're 3 already, and we'll be celebrating your sisters 1'st birthday in 2 short months. I want to remember the small details in our life day to day; the sweet synchronicity of mudane daily life and small adventures we create and crave as a family.

I want to remember the little moments of every day. Hazel, each morning you whisper quietly to your sis and ask her if she is done nursing so you can cuddle her. After a brief snuggle you both quickly jump into play mode, pretending the the co-sleeper is a boat or the pop-up castle in your room is queen Elsa's ice palace. Each morning is a different imaginative scenario and I often just sit and listen, taking it all in amazed that your dad and I made both of you.

I want to remember our relaxed mornings. Since neither of you are in school yet and dad is frequently at work, so we're often slow to get dressed and get breakfast started. During breakfast we talk about what we'd like to do for the day, and often call your grandma in Michigan to say hello (always call your momma, girls). A few disagreements on a proper breakfast and a bit of pleading later, we make plans for the day.

I want to remember the plans we make. One thing you both know about me already -- since day 1 -- is that your mama feels whole in nature. Generally our daily plans involve going outside to commune in nature, one way or another. Some days we simply feed the chickens, work in the garden, or go for a walk on the property while other days we head upriver waterfalling or to the ocean if dad and I both happen to be off of work. I'm thrilled that we can raise you on acreage in the country, and that our favorite river spot is just a few miles from home. I can already see the connection both of you have to nature, and I only hope to nurture your love and appreciation for all things wild. There is no better cure for a teething baby or emotional toddler than the ferns and trees, the creek or river our white noise.

I want to remember nap time. The long naps, the naps on momma, the naps that involve bargaining and lengthy stories or nursing for thirty minutes straight. The two of you generally take shifts when it comes to rest, something I swear you both must plan (ha, ha!).

I want to remember the excitement when papa gets home. Hazel, you often run over to dad and immediately start telling him about your day, begging him to pick you up or bring you outside to bug hunt. Juniper, you squeal and immediately reach for daddy, clapping your hands since it's the newest skill you've learned and are oh so proud of. Dinner comes and goes, and miss Junie most nights we're left flabbergasted how much more you seems to eat than Hazel. Perhaps that's what those luscious chipmunk cheeks are all about, my love.

I want to remember bedtime routine. Long soaks in the tub with giggles that last for days -- a sound I used to dream about in our infertile days, leaving me humbled and ridiculously grateful (even on the not so giggly nights). We then read books like it's going out of style, and my dear Hazel you never fail to ask for "just one more..."

I want to remember the game we play right before lights out. Hazel, you love the book 'Guess How Much I Love You' and have come up with your own variation, often telling me "I love you as bright as that light! As blue as my fish! As big as daddy!" I answer back with something equally clever, a smile on my face as I close your door. Juniper, you then nurse to sleep or papa wears you to sleep in the carrier. I'm taking in every last bit of your infancy as you'll soon be entering toddlerhood with a totally different agenda, still needing snuggles but craving independence as well. You usually drift off to sleep and after a kiss I'm left wondering if your daddy and I can squeeze in a movie before you wake to nurse again (often a sitcom is a safer bet ;)

So there we are, a typical day at our little homestead. There will be a period in my life someday where I will look back and yearn for these sleepless nights, food filled floors, and unscheduled days among the pine. But for now I will relish in these messy yet full of love days, and I will gleam.

Category: Baby , babywearing , embrace , letter , Motherhood , Oregon

An autumn update

Posted on | October 17, 2014 | 1 Comment

I'm here, just quieter than usual in the blog world (again, find me on Instagram - littletreesandme). It's October on the homestead & Juniper is nearly 6 months old. SIX. MONTHS. OLD. How did that happen? Hazel is every bit in love with her as the day she was born, and I am loving this stage of their sisterhood, as they seem to really have a bond and crack each other up. I can imagine it's only going to get more fun. We've been busy painting our house before the lovely Pacific Northwest rains start, and also juggling work & childcare. We've also been busy hiking up a storm on some of these sunny falls days, as I know they won't last forever. A quick update in photos below: