Singing
she'll sing that way all through the grocery store, too
andRolling over!
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
how I got conned into hiking 20 miles
That's right, 20. Twenty. Miles. In one day.
My husband insists that he didn't con me into anything, and that I wanted to do it just as much as he did. In his defense, he's telling the truth. In my defense, I really didn't know how far 20 miles is. See, I am NOT an experienced hiker. He is; I'm not. So he should have known better. Thus far my side of the story.
The conversation went something like this: (after a 5-mile hike with the Methodist Home girls) "Hey, this park has a full day hiking trail! Wanna do it?" "Sounds fun! We can train for the Appalachian Trail, whenever we have the chance to do it!" Right.
We wanted to be on the trail at 7 am so we could finish by 7 pm. The park people said it took 12 hours to do the trail. Honeybunch said it wouldn't take that long. Of course, he wasn't taking into account, you know, stopping and eating. The park people also said it was an 18 mile trail, but our iPhone GPSes beg to differ. THEY say we hiked 20 miles in 12 1/2 hours. Take that, park people.
So my inexperienced hiker self dragged my butt out of bed at 5:30 Monday morning so we could be done before dark. Life with a baby is never as efficient as we plan, so we didn't make it to the trailhead until 8 am, and I blame it all on her. She's babbling to me right now and maintaining her innocence, but don't believe her. She's devious behind those sweet blue eyes.
8 am: Loading out of the car, signing in at the trailhead, wrapping up with the homemade Moby, realizing that it's a lot chillier than I'd expected, slipping on the traffic-crossing-guard-yellow pants that Honey was prescient enough to sneak into my pack.
After the point of no return, when we had to do the full loop or turn around and backtrack, the path got significantly harder to follow. At first we joked that we were more adventurous than most people, since hardly anyone had been on the path to trample it down. Then the blazes got hard to see and carelessly painted, and we started joking about the obscenities the blazers must have muttered as they blazed the trail way the heck out there. Then the blazes turned orange and we joked about how they'd run out of blue paint. Then it became clear that we weren't more adventurous than most and the blazers weren't silly; we were just dumb for coming this far.
12 pm
Then began a period of misery from about mile nominally-9 but really-10 1/2 until the end, when I realized that we should have taken the short loop and been back already. It was my decision to do the long loop (aided by the fact that I knew Ryan would be disappointed if we didn't), but that didn't make life any better when I reached the halfway point and realized I was exhausted. Lessons from my dad began trickling back into my mind: "Stop before you're tired because you're going to have to walk all the way back," etc. Well, I was tired, and "all the way back" was a good 10 miles. My ankles were tired from trying not to trip and stumble over rocks, and my knees were killing me, and I was praying to God that the loop back would be on easier terrain.
Buuuuut the terrain got more difficult. The side we came up on hugged the lake, and while there were some slopes and rocks to navigate, the incline was not too far from level. The side that took us back wound up into the hills around the lake, and after climbing to the crest of hills and looking over cliffs we found ourselves plunging into valleys, with the path sometimes consisting of more tree roots holding the soil together than actual soil, and crossing mossy rivulets before we started the process over again.
And I was crying. Do it yourself before you judge me. Rather, try having a baby six months ago and avoiding all physical exercise from the time you got pregnant until, oh, now. And then try it. Oh, and make sure to strap said whiny baby onto your front and take her along. And then judge me for crying.
Also, the baby? was SO OVER the Moby Wrap at this point, and I can't say I blame her. She'd had to sit cuddled up to my sweatyness all morning, and she was going to have to do it all afternoon too, and nobody had even let her get out and walk because, well, she couldn't.
After the caution sign, the path decided that zig-zagging down hills was overrated, and that trees growing out of the cliff face were sufficient to get you down safely. Ok, that's an exaggeration. But not much of one. I definitely could not have gotten down an incline that steep if I hadn't had trees to hang on to every step of the way. Naturally, we didn't take pictures to prove it.
Today I know that the only way I'll be able to walk in time to go back on duty is to do some major yoga for the rest of our time off. Mountain Pose is my goal for the day.
Ryan wants to take the girls on the shorter loop this Saturday. I think I'll let him deal with the mutiny.
My husband insists that he didn't con me into anything, and that I wanted to do it just as much as he did. In his defense, he's telling the truth. In my defense, I really didn't know how far 20 miles is. See, I am NOT an experienced hiker. He is; I'm not. So he should have known better. Thus far my side of the story.
The conversation went something like this: (after a 5-mile hike with the Methodist Home girls) "Hey, this park has a full day hiking trail! Wanna do it?" "Sounds fun! We can train for the Appalachian Trail, whenever we have the chance to do it!" Right.
We wanted to be on the trail at 7 am so we could finish by 7 pm. The park people said it took 12 hours to do the trail. Honeybunch said it wouldn't take that long. Of course, he wasn't taking into account, you know, stopping and eating. The park people also said it was an 18 mile trail, but our iPhone GPSes beg to differ. THEY say we hiked 20 miles in 12 1/2 hours. Take that, park people.
So my inexperienced hiker self dragged my butt out of bed at 5:30 Monday morning so we could be done before dark. Life with a baby is never as efficient as we plan, so we didn't make it to the trailhead until 8 am, and I blame it all on her. She's babbling to me right now and maintaining her innocence, but don't believe her. She's devious behind those sweet blue eyes.
8 am: Loading out of the car, signing in at the trailhead, wrapping up with the homemade Moby, realizing that it's a lot chillier than I'd expected, slipping on the traffic-crossing-guard-yellow pants that Honey was prescient enough to sneak into my pack.
Ready to go!
He started herbing. The red and blackness that's off the path and probably getting poison ivy? Him.
One of the plant photos he captured. I continue to be amazed at the picture quality of the iPhone.
Stopped for a snack. I brought the bonnet that I'd forgotten during our Saturday 5-mile hike, and would you know it? It was cloudy all day Monday.
11 am: this sign said "Mary's Cove" once upon a time. Now it says Mar V." At this point we could have turned and taken the shorter loop, if we had been smarter.
After the point of no return, when we had to do the full loop or turn around and backtrack, the path got significantly harder to follow. At first we joked that we were more adventurous than most people, since hardly anyone had been on the path to trample it down. Then the blazes got hard to see and carelessly painted, and we started joking about the obscenities the blazers must have muttered as they blazed the trail way the heck out there. Then the blazes turned orange and we joked about how they'd run out of blue paint. Then it became clear that we weren't more adventurous than most and the blazers weren't silly; we were just dumb for coming this far.
12 pm
7 miles in, according to the sign, but it was closer to 8 1/2 miles in. Feeling good! That smile is still genuine. Baby's asleep. My clothes are hideous but warm.
Ryan was already feeling better than me at this point. This trend continued for the rest of the hike.
Then began a period of misery from about mile nominally-9 but really-10 1/2 until the end, when I realized that we should have taken the short loop and been back already. It was my decision to do the long loop (aided by the fact that I knew Ryan would be disappointed if we didn't), but that didn't make life any better when I reached the halfway point and realized I was exhausted. Lessons from my dad began trickling back into my mind: "Stop before you're tired because you're going to have to walk all the way back," etc. Well, I was tired, and "all the way back" was a good 10 miles. My ankles were tired from trying not to trip and stumble over rocks, and my knees were killing me, and I was praying to God that the loop back would be on easier terrain.
Buuuuut the terrain got more difficult. The side we came up on hugged the lake, and while there were some slopes and rocks to navigate, the incline was not too far from level. The side that took us back wound up into the hills around the lake, and after climbing to the crest of hills and looking over cliffs we found ourselves plunging into valleys, with the path sometimes consisting of more tree roots holding the soil together than actual soil, and crossing mossy rivulets before we started the process over again.
And I was crying. Do it yourself before you judge me. Rather, try having a baby six months ago and avoiding all physical exercise from the time you got pregnant until, oh, now. And then try it. Oh, and make sure to strap said whiny baby onto your front and take her along. And then judge me for crying.
Also, the baby? was SO OVER the Moby Wrap at this point, and I can't say I blame her. She'd had to sit cuddled up to my sweatyness all morning, and she was going to have to do it all afternoon too, and nobody had even let her get out and walk because, well, she couldn't.
Some of the rock formations were very impressive. This piece of granite(?) jutted up from the ground all alone in a field. Ryan's smile is still genuine.
My smile, the one you're too far away to see, is NOT genuine.
Ryan: Photo op! Do you want a picture too? Me: NO. I want to go HOME.
Mile 15 (16): and then we got to this sign.
After the caution sign, the path decided that zig-zagging down hills was overrated, and that trees growing out of the cliff face were sufficient to get you down safely. Ok, that's an exaggeration. But not much of one. I definitely could not have gotten down an incline that steep if I hadn't had trees to hang on to every step of the way. Naturally, we didn't take pictures to prove it.
But then this was at the bottom. Ryan kept saying that it was all worth it. I kept contradicting him. But looking at the pictures today, they definitely look a lot prettier. As you can see, we're seriously racing the sun at this point.
7 pm: we reached the swinging bridge, which the park people claim is 15 miles in and 3 miles from the head, but which we calculated to be 16 3/4 miles in and 3 1/4 miles from the head.
9 pm: we reached the trailhead. It's a good thing you can't see my face in this picture, because I look like death warmed over. The baby is already in her carseat, rejoicing that she's not strapped to me anymore.
Ryan's smile is STILL genuine. He's almost as glad as I am to be done, though.
Today I know that the only way I'll be able to walk in time to go back on duty is to do some major yoga for the rest of our time off. Mountain Pose is my goal for the day.
Ryan wants to take the girls on the shorter loop this Saturday. I think I'll let him deal with the mutiny.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
She's a girl!
The brand new one she'd never worn, of course.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Welcome to the world!
I would like to give a warm welcome to my newest niece, little Ava! She was born March 27th at 10:30 (ish) pm, 8 lbs 8 oz. Congratulations to Erik and Tara!
You can find her babybook-blog here.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
This post brought to you by Granddad Friend and my shiny new to me Asus laptop.
Only it's blue, not bamboo
It's purse sized and amazing, and he doesn't use it anymore, and I was talking about how we were planning on buying one before I knew he had one languishing in his office, and I. am. thrilled. You know you wish you had my in-laws.
I'll be able to use a decently fast computer at the Cottage now when I'm on duty, and have keybord-connected internet even when my darling husband is using our (his) desktop, and be able to answer my emails with more than just one line, and be able to make decent blog posts. Does anybody else have a terrible time writing on anything but a qwerty keyboard of ten-finger capabilities? I delete most everything I start to blog on my phone, because it comes out nonsensical. My ten fingers can keep up with my ideas much better than my two thumbs can.
Speaking of ten fingers and typing, I was thinking the other day about my sixth grade computer teacher, Mr. Mulvaney, and how grateful I am for all those tortuously boring classes of nothing but Mavis Beacon typing tutorials. Ooh, I hated it at the time, from the computer voice to the fact that there were only three games, but the current benefits of having a typing speed of 100 wpm more than outweigh the boredom of years ago. Just think: if I were to cease my job as houseparent of troubled teenage girls and need an income, I could take dictation.
But then I wouldn't be able to play with my baby all day.
Granddad spoils her and gives her spoonfuls of coffee, but what can I say? He spoils me and gives me laptops.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Another turn in the road
After a long hiatus in real posts (because cell phone posts are, after all, only good for pictures), the Friend Family finds ourselves in a position which, if you had told us we would have six months ago, we would not have believed possible. We are so lucky to have gotten jobs as houseparents at the Methodist Children's Home and to be moving back closer to the Mr's family and my parents. We live on campus and for 20 days out of a month we live with the 10 girls in the cottage, have our meals with them, play with them, counsel them, and teach them how to have healthy relationships and productive lives. These are girls who come from troubled backgrounds and whose families have placed them in the program usually because they do not know how to handle them anymore. Our job is to provide them with a loving and stable environment and to guide them into habits which will hopefully break the vicious cycle of dysfunctional familites and abusive relationships. We don't have an easy job - we just got off our first full ten-day shift, and the last five days when we were the only couple on staff were a learning experience like none other - but we're getting paid to stay home and raise our baby and her new big sisters. I don't think we could ask for anything better. They are all excellent babysitters and love to hold Heidi as much as I will let them, though in the beginning I was naturally very cautious when I let them hold her. These are girls the world has given up on, but they have hearts full of love and promise if you can find them under their shells of toughness, aggression, introversion, false faces and the myriad other coping mechanisms they have used to survive.
That said, this may be my first and last blog about the job, because for the sake of confidentiality and the girls' security I can't reveal their identities on the internet, and I'm wary of telling stories of "girl A" and "girl B" in case patterns began to emerge which would allow people who knew them to find their whereabouts. As I said, some of these girls come from very troubled backgrounds and have found a safe haven here. I have to be very careful to guard their safety. It's too bad, because the video I took yesterday morning of Webb Cottage's version of Down By The Bay is really something that must be seen to be believed. There was definitely some headbanging and jumping up and down going on. Have you ever seen a whale with a polka dot tail? ..........DOWN BY THE BAY!!
That said, this may be my first and last blog about the job, because for the sake of confidentiality and the girls' security I can't reveal their identities on the internet, and I'm wary of telling stories of "girl A" and "girl B" in case patterns began to emerge which would allow people who knew them to find their whereabouts. As I said, some of these girls come from very troubled backgrounds and have found a safe haven here. I have to be very careful to guard their safety. It's too bad, because the video I took yesterday morning of Webb Cottage's version of Down By The Bay is really something that must be seen to be believed. There was definitely some headbanging and jumping up and down going on. Have you ever seen a whale with a polka dot tail? ..........DOWN BY THE BAY!!
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