Grass Clippings and Cat Hair

By: Allison Norris

The part where the grass shoots out on the side would always get clogged. This was, of course, before we had a riding lawn mower. We would take turns mowing the half of an acre of grass. Pushing and stopping to empty the bag of clippings. A mountain of old grass and some new had formed in the woods just beyond the property line. Around the red fence which kept the goats and chickens in captivity, the only hill in our yard felt like a mountain. My hands smelled of gasoline and fresh cut grass for the rest of the day no matter how many times I washed them, and my shoes remained stained despite the attempts at making them white again. Who mows the lawn in white shoes, anyway?

We had a carport and a “shop” where my mom kept a bunch of old junk like antiques and a food dehydrator. I don’t know if she even knew what was in there. It was dark and scary with exposed beams that supported more junk items above your head. Our old cat Chippy slept in there before he died, and you could find a flattened area of old clothes littered with grey cat hair… maybe even a little cat poop. There was a gravel walkway lined with fragrant flowers that connected our main house with the back yard, with the “shop” in between the two. We’d argue over who had to go into this shop if we needed to get a hammer or a shovel to toss dog poop into the woods. A separate shed kept our mowers and other lawn supplies… and whatever crap my mom could fit in there. Everything had a door or blinds to cover the sight, but we all knew what was in there. Junk.

It’s funny what you start to remember after memories are created with your own kids. Baylor and Toby were mowing the lawn yesterday and it got clogged. Like a movie flashback, where all of the images flash quickly by, I remembered mowing our lawn when we were young girls. Dancing around in a bathing suit or spraying each other with a hose. It would take us hours. It would be one of our “jobs” of the week, one that we would dread and complain about. We would blast Carly Simon or Red Hot Chile Peppers from the stereo on the deck and make a day of it… Oh what fun it was.

The car port, shop, shed and crappy little deck where we performed many a dance routine and celebrated a few birthdays was torn down when I was in college. My mom rebuilt the house and made it gorgeous – thank goodness. I have some coasters made from the peach tree we used to hang on in our yard that also had to go during the remodel. I haven’t thought about mowing the lawn or the contents of the scary shop in a decade.

It’s weird to be a mom. A grown up…. Responsible for helping Baylor to make his memories and hoping that he’ll have positive flashbacks when he is a man one day.

A clogged mower is happiness.

A Step Too Far?

By: Allison Norris

I haven’t been able to watch the news since Baylor was born. Too many stories about bad things happening to children and it keeps me awake at night. My boyfriend Toby recognized a local news broadcaster at an event and I had no idea who he was talking about.

At the MS walk yesterday, I watched two boys who were around 12 years old cry with frustration because their mom was yelling at them. They punched each other, clenched jaw, wiping away tears from the pain of each punch and the disappointment in their mother’s behavior. She was trying to leave them there for some reason, and you could tell they didn’t know what to say. They were just upset. I’ve got a special soft spot for kids like this and can’t stop myself from trying to help. I understand the confusion of feeling anxiety and confusion when you know something is supposed to be good. You can see everyone else around you having fun, but you are standing on the sharpest of eggshells, waiting for another one to crack because you may say the wrong thing, or there was too much traffic getting there, so everything is ruined for the rest of the day. So much stress.

I tapped one of the kids on the shoulder and asked him if he wanted to join our team for the walk. He glared at me and turned back to his brother and punched him in the arm. Ok, maybe he was just a little brat, but either way I wanted him to escape and be happy. Maybe I should have minded my own business. Probably.

I also saw a teenage boy running down the street with a six-month-old baby attached to his chest yesterday. I wanted to turn around and ask if he needed a ride, or help, or both. I kept driving. Minding my own business.

I guess my point is, when should someone step in and try to help? Or at least extend an invite or offer a hand? And when is it offensive and too much?

I know I am offended when people, especially people who are not parents, give advice or criticize me for the way I do things because it isn’t the same way that they do it. So, do I freak out when someone tries to parent me, or my son? Absolutely. My mom just told me that I should let Bay “cry it out” the other night when we were staying with her on Easter. I was exhausted and didn’t want to do anything but make him sleep, so I listened to her even though I told her it wouldn’t work. For 10 minutes I let him scream until I couldn’t take it any longer and picked him up out of his bed. I let him cuddle me on the couch and he was asleep in 30 seconds – like I had suggested doing in the first place. I felt pressure to listen! To prove I am a flexible mom who can pull a little tough love. But why? Didn’t I know what would work?

I have a friend who doesn’t have kids and every time she is around, which isn’t all that much, she insists that Baylor say “please” and “thank you.” She’s absolutely right, he always should, but my kid says “thank you” like it’s his job. After she passes him a kleenex because she saw his nose was running, she will loudly add the “WHAT DO YOU SAY, BAYLOR?” Sure, she’s just trying to help, but it makes me feel like she is judging all of us and trying to step in. My friends who are moms might be able to get away with it, mostly because they see Baylor so often and we are at their house. I know I’m being sensitive, but again, when is it someone’s place to step in? I think it’s a slippery slope. If my child-less friend were around Baylor every single day, then fine, remind him to say “thank you.” But when it’s once or twice per month – leave the Emily Post lessons to me and hang out as a visitor in our home.

Parenting is funny and everyone is a little messed up, it’s just what happens when there isn’t a guide book to follow. It’s beautiful, really, and creates individuality in our world. Maybe the baby strapped to the teenager’s chest will go to Harvard because she wrote an award winning essay on survival skills and overcoming obstacles. Maybe the two kids fighting will be WWF champs. And maybe my friend will have children who refuse to say “please” and “thank you” and she’ll have her own kids to worry about… and probably write a book about kids and manners and be loaded and I’ll still be irritated.

Magik

By: Allison Norris

I haven’t had anything to write about. The end of the rainy season is upon us and for the first time, I had been feeling like I had Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). I wanted to stay in my house and watch TV every single day. The thought of getting dressed in something that would only get rained on and force me to change was becoming to much. I didn’t want to write, I haven’t had any desire to read, and I even thought about dyeing my hair black because it fit my mood.

And now it is sunny and hits 60 degrees by 5pm. I wait all fall, winter, and most of spring for these days. My face looks healthy because it is starting to tan, and my hair looks a little more blond because, well, my skin is not translucent. It’s a wonderful time of the year.

On this beautiful Sunday, we decided to join 5,000 people and walk for multiple sclerosis (MS). My mom’s first cousin has MS and has participated in the walk for years with some of her students and friends who support the cause. She doesn’t walk much and uses a scooter to get around, bringing it along in the back of her Prius. Despite not being able to walk the four miles, she cruised the whole way in her chair sporting her tie-dyed “team magik” t-shirt, coordinating with the rest of the team.

I know people who have cancer, who are battling it, and who will come out victorious. Thankfully I don’t know anyone except for my cousin who has an incurable disease which slowly gets worse. The thousands of people walking today knew someone with this same illness and were participating to create awareness and raise money for research to find a cure. Everyone wore a tag with the name of the person with MS they were walking for – sisters, brothers, grandpas and best friends – MS was part of their lives. There is something so beautiful about thousands of people coming together to do something good. It was so cool to be one of them.

As the sun peeked through the clouds and we were able to remove a layer of clothing, we talked about what an incredible, positive, funny woman our cousin is. I’ve never heard her say a negative thing about anyone – including herself or her situation. She is brave, caring, positive, and has a sense of humor. I don’t see her nearly enough, but she is an inspiration to me and a reminder of how truly wonderful and precious life is. She is also a reminder to stay positive – even on the rainiest of days.

We walked, we raised a little money, and we learned about a disease that affects thousands of people, especially in the northwest.

Thank you, Gretchen, for letting us tag along. You rock!

The Art of the Mom-Versation

By: Allison Norris

 

With such little time for regular social interaction, “mom talk” is taking over my social life.

There are different parts of this phenomenon:

Comparing notes on little ones;
Repeating the same story over and over;
One upping;
Speaking in third person;
Common conversation starters;

If you are a mom, or you know one and hang out with her often, you know what I’m talking about.

I overheard two moms talking at the park the other day and 100% of their conversation was about their kids. They didn’t say a single personal thing without it involving why they were woken up early or how busy their driving schedule has become with both kids in soccer. It wasn’t a conversation, really. It was “oh, I know! I did the same thing when Sammy was that age…” It’s like a tennis match, back and forth, hitting the ball with the notes on their children. It’s no wonder many moms start in on a conversation with a monologue about their life; they have forgotten how to talk to people who don’t have kids. Their kids are their whole life, the topic of every conversation. “Oh, ya, Baylor was the same way. He used to wake up every two hours until he was a year old…” I guess nobody asked, but now they know about Baylor’s sleep schedule. Don’t worry, I’ll get their baby’s sleep schedule next. It’s just how it goes. It’s the way that we learn, and maybe feel normal.

 

I’m not saying that all moms are like this… because they’re not. But the ones that are have started to rub off on me and I catch myself only talking about Baylor when someone asks me how I’m doing. It’s quite simply because how I am doing really depends on my sweet baby.

I catch myself wondering if I’ve already told this story to this person. I ask, “wait, did I already tell you about this?” And when they say, “no,” I am curious as to if they are just being polite or if I really haven’t told them about it. I meet nannies, moms, friends of Toby’s, or just new people out and about and much of the “new people” conversation covers a cute story about Baylor, where I grew up, that I love my PEPS group, and that I didn’t plan on being a mom at my age but love it! Should the conversation go past that, it’s hard to remember what information I give and if I should take it to level 2 or level 3 conversation (friend details… and then a little more personal friend details) at our next encounter. I need to start taking notes.

 

Mom-versations always include a one-upper. It’s impossible not to. Your baby walked at a year? That’s my cue to tell you Baylor walked at ten months. She sings? Baylor knows how to count to 20 in Spanish. What else you got? Bring it! And let’s be really nice and enthusiastic (“WOW!”) the whole time we’re doing it.

Third person. I said I’d never talk to my child this way, and yet here I am. “Baylor, let Mommy do it. Mommy wants a bite too. Do you want Mommy to help?” Will he not understand if I say, “me” and refer to myself? How did this happen?

Common conversation starters are essential in the world of new mom friends. “How old is she?” “I love that jumper, where did you find that?” “Wow! He’s really tall!” “I’m the nanny of her, and the mom of him…” All common.

And then we start talking about our kids, one upping, and talking about sleep schedules. Don’t worry, if I run into you next time, I’ll probably tell you the exact same thing again because I won’t remember this conversation at all.

Moms are amazing. Sleep deprived, hungry for socialization, and hoping that the way they are raising their babies isn’t too crazy, what else would there be to talk about? These little creatures are enough conversation to last a lifetime… which is probably why we will talk about them with pride for the rest of our lives.

Liar, Liar… Just a Little

By: Allison Norris

I’ve learned about something funny in the last week.  I’ve been hearing about how much people lie, and I’m wondering if everyone has done this.  Not so much BIG lies, like the kind that cover up stories that could ruin your life.  Just lies that don’t really mean anything at all.  What’s the point?  Once they come out of your mouth, do you wonder why you are saying them and how you will continue with the story that you are fabricating by the second?  But wait, you’ve never probably done this before, right?

How is the lady in the grocery store going to know that you are really only 25 and that no, the child in your cart is the baby you nanny and not yours at all.  Even though it sounds better to say that she’s yours, just for confusion’s sake, and because you know just as much as a mom anyway, right?  It’s a long story as to why you are nannying and I doubt she wants to hear that you dropped out of law school and are sleeping on your parents’ couch with absolutely no plan.  The fancy car out there, yep, totally mine… not borrowing it because the car seat was already in it and all.

How is your new friend from the park going to figure out that you aren’t actually married, or a doctor, and that you’re back in school to become a teacher but those new vocab words you learned in your biology 101 course can be used in so many new ways to sound smart.

Your best friend is a movie star?  NO WAY!  No way is right… because it’s your best friend’s cousin’s ex-girlfriend’s brother.  Close enough.

I’m 30.  Ok, I’m really 27, but they’ll never know.

I got a 4.0 in all of my classes in college.  Try a 3.2 because of the fat “D” that math professor gave me because she thought I was cheating, but I was just studying in the library with a tutor every day and got that shit right.  Such a bitch.

I studied abroad for a year.  It was really only six months.

I was in labor for 45 hours, can you believe that?  It was really only 32, but 45 makes me sound like such a badass.

I’ve caught myself elaborating on a truth to make it sound more exciting… more extravagant.  To make ME sound more exciting and extravagant.  As if anyone but me actually cares.

My friend told me about a silly little lie that she told.  It didn’t hurt anyone and she wasn’t covering anything up… it just came out of her mouth!  I asked her why she had said it, and she said she had no idea!  It isn’t that she’s a liar, but she was tired and just went along with a conversation and before she knew it, she was making things up to cover her falsity.
My new goal is to be totally honest.  No elaborating.  No extra extremes.  Just the truth, even if it is boring and plain – because you know I’m going to be standing there, lying away and Baylor is going to say, “Mom, you didn’t wake up at 5:30, you woke up at 7am, why are you saying that?”  And there I will be, with my lying pants around my ankles getting a verbal spanking from my child for lying.

The truth will set you free.  Amen.

Single Mamas in the World

By: Allison Norris

Hey single mommies out there…
You are doing a great job.
If it feels like your life is one big ball of chaos and exhaustion… it probably is, and it’s ok.   It is supposed to be like this right now.
If you feel like some of your friends don’t “get it” it’s because they don’t, and they may not ever.  It doesn’t really matter if they don’t get it… just keep on moving!  In with the new…
Your kids will thank you some day for the job you are doing.  And if they don’t, you will see your success in the strong, capable, independent people that they become.  And there’s always therapy if they’re really screwed up!  Just kidding.  Kind of.
If you are lonely and looking for that special someone to “complete” the family, they will come.  Just focus on raising your babies and when the time is right, it will happen.  Who has the time to date, ayway?  And hey, your family is complete just as it is.
Broke?  My mom always says that driving beat up cars and wearing second-hand clothes build character.  Just think about how much character building you are doing and you’re not even trying!
Seek support and help.  Surround yourself with good people, with other single parents who understand what your life is and who can come over on a Tuesday night for a bottle of wine and a movie for the kids.
Embrace being the sole decision maker in your house.  It’s ok to have pancakes for dinner.
Remind yourself that you are doing the best job that you can do – and I think all parents, married or not, can relate to that.
After all, it takes a village.  You’re never really alone.
Keep up the good work!

I’ll Totally Be There…

By: Allison Norris

Moms who aren’t flakes are amazing. There are lots of them – the ones that do what they say they are going to do. They make plans and then are right on time and double check with you to confirm. Some of them have more than one child, and some of them are single moms. It makes me think of that movie “I don’t know how she does it” with SJP. It got mediocre reviews – but I understood it. The balance battle and figuring out when to say “no” even when it’s something that you really should do, because, well, they came to your birthday dinner, so you should go to theirs. It’s hard!

If I say I’ll be there, I’m there 80% of the time and I try not to be late. That other 20% is me being a total flake. I got a text from a friend of mine who has a two-year-old. She has started every text for the last two months with “Sorry – I’m a flake! I really did mean to call!” Understanding her language, I tell her she’s amazing and we reschedule plans… which never really happen. Another single mom friend of mine just emailed me about how hard it is to get invited out by friends on a Saturday night – even though they know you have a little one at home. You get annoyed because they know you can’t go, but then it’s even worse when you aren’t invited, so really they are in a lose-lose situation. It’s just hard to be social. Unless you have a live-in nanny, I suppose.

Perhaps it’s because I happily do things for someone else all day long. I can’t politely say “no” when Baylor asks me to wipe his bottom. Skipping lunch because I’d rather be napping or being late to pick him up out of his crib in the morning doesn’t exist in my world. The few precious minutes that I have to myself are sacred and are thought about long beforehand. Do I want to spend my free Saturday meeting with someone I haven’t seen in years, just because I bumped into them on a street corner and we suggested that we should do coffee “sometime” and they remembered and nailed me down via facebook? I don’t. I want to spend my free Saturday doing absolutely nothing on my couch with a blanket and coffee and my fireplace on with my phone on silent.

The balance battle: being social – 0. Allison flaking and being a recluse – 1.

I vaguely recall the days of only thinking about myself – what I was going to wear, eat, when I’d work out, who I was meeting for drinks after work, and what I was doing this weekend. It seems that was a different life – one that I do not wish to return to because being a mom is the best thing in the world, but sometimes the smell of brand new clothes will zap me back in time to being a single girl in the city. Like when I smell really strong cologne and cigarette smoke and I’m 19 and back in Spain.

I’m sure when Baylor is older and independent I will get a whiff of play doh and wish for these days of innocence and cuddle time. Until then, I will continue to lose friends because I forget to respond to a text and they think I’m mad at them, but really I am just exhausted and drove down the street with my phone on the roof of my car. I can’t call you back because I’ll be one of those moms who says, “Oh, I know, I’m totally on the same page as – BAYLOR, I SAID GET DOWN! Sorry, anyway, what was I saying? Right, she has no idea what is – NO YOU MAY NOT HAVE THAT CHOCOLATE BAR AND WHERE DID YOU FIND THAT ANYWAY? So, what were we talking about? Can I call you back? Baylor needs me to dump the pee out of his little potty. YOU WANT TO USE THE BIG POTTY? ARE YOU SURE? Sorry… let me call you back.”

It won’t be like this for long and I’ll miss it when it’s over, but until then, the few minutes of mom-vacation that come by may be spent doing absolutely nothing and loving every minute of it.

Meet My Boyfriend

By: Allison Norris

It was recently brought to my attention that I have not provided any details about my boyfriend on my blog.  Sorry… especially to my sweet follower Madge Woods.  This one is for you!

I met my boyfriend Toby through a friend in July of last year.  He was nervous and shy and so, so nice.  Much nicer than I am.  And cute!  He’s so cute.   He’s the kind of guy who takes a CPR class for fun and then months later finds a woman drowning in the water and pulls her out and saves her life.  Nevermind that she was trying to commit suicide and he totally ruined her plan (ok, so he’s not that nice)…

It has to be interesting dating a single mom.  I don’t think it’s easy.  It takes a special man to see the joy and beauty in parenting when it isn’t their child.  I know these men are out there because I know many of them, and I’d always hoped that I would find one like this.  He comes over around dinner time when we’re tired and things are a little chaotic.  He plays trucks with Bay until I finish cooking and then sets the table.  He does the dishes while I give Bay a bath and put him to bed, and then rubs my shoulders on the couch until I usually fall asleep, or am so pooped out that I can hardly have a conversation.  Never mind that he’s a 30-year-old healthy young man… I’m just too tired.

He knows  that I can’t just go grab drinks with friends, and staying out late means midnight.  He understands that I need notice before doing anything that requires finding a babysitter, and he never tries to parent my child.

He’s a test fisherman for the state, meaning he fishes every day for his job.  He collects data on Salmon and gets to be outside on the water.  Maybe that’s why he is so cool and calm – he’s one with the sea every day. 

He takes beautiful photos of the whales, eagles, and other wildlife he sees, but says he’s not a photographer.  He lives on a house boat in Lake Union… just like Tom Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle, except his is chilly and has spiders, but it has a great view!

It has been a slow and healthy relationship.  We have taken the time to get to know each other… not jumping in to anything.  It has been nice and  I am still getting to know him a little more each day.  I’m constantly surprised and amazed at his thoughtfulness, willingness to help, and his understanding of my life.  He’s never said a negative word about my son, his dad, or my situation.  He supports me and loves me for who I am – which can be a whole lot of impatience and exhaustion.  He drives me crazy sometimes (it can’t always be rainbows and sunshine, he’s a picky eater for goodness sake), and we’ve had a few disagreements, but in the end, we’re learning about each other and I want to know more!

So there you go, Madge, now you know about my Toby.

How to Break the ‘Round and ‘Round With Your Ex Who is Also a Co-Parent

By: Allison Norris

I started checking out other blogs to get inspired, and to also see how to pump up my volume and attract more readers. Turns out, I am not a fashion blogger, nor a “how to” blogger, and I don’t review products. I shop at thrift stores for my new clothes, add water to my mascara to make it last longer, and just learned how to curl my own hair so I don’t think I should be showing anyone else. I guess I’m not in the cool blogger group.

I started thinking about all of the things that I know how to do. Most of them are centered around being a single mom, and others are about… well, parenting, so I guess that still falls into the “single mom” category because I’m a mom who parents and his dad lives 4 miles away.

Just because I so badly want to fit into the blogger world of many photos, few words, and how-to demonstrations, I have decided to share my insight on a topic that I was recently asked about.

My good friend is also a single mom. She is absolutely gorgeous, has a rockin’ job, and an 18-month-old. Back and forth, back and forth… she keeps testing out her baby daddy and he keeps acting the same way – like a douche bag. She asked me how to break the pattern – how to move on and eventually have a civil relationship with him without feelings – good or bad.

When you have a child with someone, everything around you tells you that you should be with that person. It will be easier on the child, people will accept you more if you are a two-parent household, it makes more sense financially, and it is just what we are raised to believe! You see them frequently, speak or text with them daily, and share the one thing that you love the most. It’s hard to “make the break” and carry on with your life without them having an impact on your daily stress level or new relationships.

The song goes, “first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage!” Oops… fucked that one up.

For all of the “oops” parents out there who know it won’t work but can’t quite figure out how to break it off, here’s my advice on how to distance yourself from the one person who will always be around:

1. Block them on Facebook. If you want them out of your life (as much as possible), you don’t need to see who they were with or what they were doing. It will only bring out that fire in your chest (aka anxiety) that makes you do crazy things and make crazy assumptions. Outta sight, outta mind – at least while scoping out Facebook. This doesn’t give you any extra fuel for your fire… and it’s a fire you want to go out.

2. Change their name to something boring in your phone – like their initials, or “_____’s dad.” Also, give them a distinct ring and text signal so that you know what you are about to see on your phone, or if you need to let it go to voicemail. Letting it go to voicemail and then responding with a text or email is a great way to stay neutral. Again, working on how to keep that anxiety level low.

3. Give yourself a time frame. This is a big one. See if you can go 3-6 weeks without engaging in any extra conversation. Obviously contact each other if there is an issue with your child, but take out the chit chat, the favors, the check ins and be a single parent! No need to make a big announcement to the other parent. You can simply say, “I need some space and time to regroup, can we email if we need to talk and stick to a plan just for a while?” And leave it at that.

4. Stick to a parenting plan. Like, for real. Send calendar requests to set the schedule (that’s already in your plan) and set clear rules for pick up/drop off and notice for a change in the plan.

5. Think about your future. You want a good relationship with this other person, and time is your friend. Take the 3-6 weeks to establish new boundaries and patterns. Maybe you were flexible about your parenting plan, making communication more frequent – but if you have a set plan, there really isn’t a reason to be in touch. Let distance assist you in healing and moving on.

6. Use email to communicate when you absolutely need to. If there are things that you need to discuss regarding updates about your child, maybe send an email once a week that has the facts. Using email is a great way to communicate, and you get to re-read what you write before you send it.

7. Be nice. Really. I have a hard time with this one… but I have realized it is very important. If you are starting a new relationship with this person, one where they are simply the parent of your child, you should respect them and try to get along with them. Just remember that they are a good person (ok, not allll of them), and that they want to be in your child’s life, so be a good parent and put your BS to the side (as best you can). You don’t need to speak with them, but you don’t have to be mean either. Remember, they’re going to be around for a lonnnnng time.

I’m still learning… and know that it can be oh so complicated, but these steps can certainly help.

Crap, I forgot to add a zillion pictures to my post to make it interesting! Ooooops.

Lake Quinault Getaway

By: Allison Norris

I just got beat by a woman covered in jewels and with perfect hair named Judy at cards in the main lodge. She’s 65 and from Beaumont, Texas with a southern twang so sweet you wish she was your grandmami. She asked Toby and me if she could play cards with us because she was absolutely furious with her husband Clay. You see, he ordered a pizza with mushrooms on it and she hates mushrooms. She also hates television except for CNN, FOX, 700 Club and the Young and the Restless. She doesn’t like wine, seafood, cell phones, or Mormons because her 21-year-old daughter just married one. She told her husband that he needed to go back to his room alone because she couldn’t even look at his face. She told us this when she sat down with us and asked us what we would do in the situation. Feeling guilty from a similar situation earlier, I told her that I had bought several snacks for our trip to the Lake Quinault Lodge in the Olympic National Park rain forest, and all of them had sesame seeds in them… Toby is allergic to sesame seeds. I’m not totally sure what I would do in her situation. Then she beat me at Spite and Malice and Gin Rummy. Oh Judy…

Toby and I hiked five miles today… through lush moss that hung from branches and old growth trees that are a thousand years old. My cell phone still worked (thank God), but I felt completely removed from anything busy. I had nowhere to be, and nothing to do except observe a gorgeous waterfall, crack open a Pacifico on the trail, snap tons of photos and pee sitting on a nursing log. It was absolutely breathtaking and I got to do it with my love.

We saw the world’s largest Sitka Spruce tree today. It was really friggin’ huge. On the way to the tree, we completely missed the signs and ended up down a beautiful road containing farms and old trees… and elk. Toby had been dying to see elk (and a cougar, which I did NOT want to see), and there in the road were 20 huge elk just staring us down.

When we stopped in Forks at the chamber of commerce which really only contained Twilight paraphernalia, the lady who worked there told us she had nine dogs and an elk-proof fence that was 12 feet high and had special links or something. Then she told us that the elk still managed to kick her dog in the head through the fence. I did not want to get any closer to the big brown beauties.

We counted 12 eagles on the drive, which took us over ferries, along rivers, and through quaint towns. We stopped at multiple junk stores, and enjoyed each other’s company the entire weekend. My skin felt soft in the crisp mountain air and my hair has never felt more healthy after washing it in truly clean water. It was so gorgeous… Lake Quinault, not my hair.  I can’t wait to go back again for more!

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