Trek ready

All the planning, fundraising, begging and hours of peddling have paid off.  Tomorrow Sandi and I board the bus that will take us to Sunday River to ride the 180 miles in the Trek Across Maine!

 

Phew.

 

We are riding as part of the Gold's Gym team of Bangor.  And it isn't going to rain at all. At least that is what I keep telling myself. I am willing the little rain icon on my iphone weather app to change to sun. I am checking in non-compulsively every hour.  It's only Friday I'm concerned with.  The weekend looks beautiful.

 

I would imagine that for people that aren't us, this wouldn't take so much effort.  But for us, trying to negotiate the logistical maneuvers of being without our kids for four days, making up clinical hours and trying to fundraise every last penny it costs to do the Trek as well as the actual fundraising minimum, this is no small feat.

 

Each rider must raise at least $500 to do the Trek.  If you don't meet the goal, you actually have to give the money yourself.  I worked hard to raise the entire $1,000 for Sandi and I.  But then a whole bunch of last minute donations came in I actually raised about $1,200!  Thank you so much to everyone who donated, big or small, to help us get there!  That is a lot of money!

 

Adding up the other expenses, here is what I came up with for the two of us:

 

Trek registration= $120 ($60 each)

bus tickets (to the start line in Bethel and from the finish line in Belfast) = $120 ($60 each)

team jerseys = $68 together (the cost after proceeds from a bake sale and a donation from the gym)

overnight lodging at Sunday River the night before we depart = $140

 

That totals $448.  Plus we had to take the hybrid tires off Sandi's bike in favor of road tires.  And we also have to pay for our meal at Sunday River. Other than that the Trek puts us up for free in dorm housing the other two nights and feeds us the whole way through, including lobster at the finish (for real).  It is an incredible deal really.  

 

Now I don't say this to discourage anyone from doing the Trek.  I say it so that I can brag to you that I also raised all of the money to cover our expenses!!  For a family of four in their twenty first month without a primary income, frivolity is not our main practice.  If we were going to do the Trek, I was going to figure out how to afford it.

 

First off, I put my skills to work and baked like I a mad woman for the team bake sale.

 

 

Maya and I helped with the team car wash.  We did a silent auction at the gym.  (I got some really generous donations from local businesses that I greatly appreciate!!!)  We also had a team yard sale which made me clean out my closets (and the kids their room) plus I got donations for that so I was able to recoup a lot of money for expenses there.

 

Then, all that remained was the fun part: riding my bike.  I have ridden and ridden and ridden some more.  I truly love to ride my bike and find such solace out there on the road, whether with people or alone.  I've ridden a bunch of times with my friend Chris and it was really nice to have company and chat the miles (and the hills) away.   I've ridden alone and loved that no one really knew where I was or could find me.  Most recently, Sandi began her training (with 2 weeks to go until the Trek, all that her crazy clinical schedule would allow) and I have gotten to ride with her.   It feels kind of illicit for us to both be out on our bikes together.  Like...ummm, isn't one of you supposed to be home with your kids?

 

It has been just like old times. Trish watched the girls for us last Friday so we could do the 50 mile loop to Bucksport and back.  Heaven, I tell you. Heaven.

 

 Then this past weekend, while Kristi was here for the weekend, we snuck out early Sunday morning and went for a 33 mile ride with Emilie.  It made me simply giddy.

I'm totally ready for the Trek.  I'm ready for the time away, I've trained hard and am now resting (ish) and I'm halfway packed.  Sandi has cranked out a ridiculous number of miles in less than two weeks and makes it look easy to just hop on a bike and ride 50 miles.

 

Day 1 is 67 miles.  We've got all we need.

 

I'm really psyched to get out on my bike and get to ride so far with the support that is the icon of the Trek Across Maine.  I'm really looking forward to the energized feel and comaraderie that is so palpable at the Trek.  But, shhhh.... don't tell anyone that the Trek is really just a way to get Sandi to myself for a few days.  The cycling is just a bonus.

a hike, a real hike

A few years ago, many years ago, B.C. (before children) in fact, Sandi and I found ourselves hiking the charming Blue Hill, a sweet little mountain with big views.  We went up one side and down the other only to be stunned, I mean completely blown away, by the magestic lupine field in blooming spelendor at the bottom of the opposite side. 

 

The lupines are a wild flower (apparently non-native to Maine but as iconic of Maine as red lobster) that blooms in early June for about two weeks.  If you come to this hillside any other time of the summer, you wouldn't even know it was home to so many wild lupines.  That day all those years ago when the woods trail we were on opened to a blooming lupine field, we knew how lucky we were to see it.

 

Nearly every June since I have wanted to go back to Blue Hill to see the lupines.  A few times I even put it on my calender months in advance only to have the weekends of early June eaten up by something else.  But last week I mentioned it to Sandi and this past Sunday found us in a lupine field.

 Because Blue Hill is on the coast, their lupines are a bit behind ours.  I would say the field was in maybe 70% bloom.  And even given that, there seemed to be numerous plants that weren't blooming at all.  It wasn't the carpet of indigo I remember but it was lucious and wonderful just the same.



 

 

 

Maya had this butterfly (moth?) land on her hand and she was rivited.  She struggled to move ahead with any semblence of forward progress as she didn't want to distrubt the butterfly.  We would say, "Okay, Maya, let's keep moving up the hill!" and she would say, "I'm coming..." whilst moving millimeter-length steps and looking like she was trying not to detonate a bomb. 

 

 

Sandi and I did a lot of hiking and backpacking B.C.  It has been one of the things we have truly missed during the many year gestation of our young family.  And here we were, finally, hiking as a family on a Sunday afternoon, everyone on their own feet and of their own steam. Sure there was a little bit of  "are we there yet?" but the dangling carrot of Subway sandwiches and Smartfood popcorn to be eaten at the top kept them moving.

 

Ella collected this little bundle of fallen wildflowers in the field and then at every puddle we found, she would stop and place them in the water to drink.

 

 

 

 

 

A mountain peak is like no other place anywhere.  I am more at home on top of a mountain than I am anywhere. And it is an even more special place to share with your beloveds.   It is also a perfect way to celebrate the growth and transformation of little children into bigger ones.  It makes me less sad and more excited for all the adventures to come.

 

 

a walk in the bog

Last week Maya and I got to go on Ella's second grade field trip to the Orono Bog.   

 

(You should know that Ella won't let me take too many pictures of her anymore and doesn't like me discussing her so I will be mostly radio silent on her for a while.)

 

We have been on the bog boardwalk many times but this was the first time with a tour guide.  There are so many cool things to learn about bogs.  For instance did you know that in some places there are 20 feet of peat below the surface?  Good thing there are planks to keep you above ground.

 

 

Happy girls.

 Before we left there were lots of instructions to listen to so we had to listen very closely.

 

As an impromptu surprise, my friend Lindsay and her daughter Leah just happened to be going for a walk in the bog at the same time and tagged along on our field trip group.

Maya had a lot that she wanted to investigate out there.  I was amazed by what she retained that our guide told us. She began to identify different plants as we walked.

We learned about the carnivorous pitcher plant, why a skunk cabbage is called a skunk cabbage (it will make you smelly if you pick it) and we even got to see some of the illustrious and endangered lady slippers. 

I can't remember what these are but they are cool. 

As much as she loves flowers, Maya was able to restrain herself from picking any, saying, "The bog boss said we can't pick them."  But she got lucky a few times and found some on the ground.

Maya had amazingly good behavior. She followed all the rules and behaved in line with the second graders. We were smart and left after lunch (there were lots of chaperones) so as not to tire her out. She held my hand on the walk to the car, sighing deep, contented sighs and telling me she loves me.

Maya Moo: a small package with a lot of punch

There is so much to love about Maya.

 

First off, she is a very independent and industrious child.  She loves to help.  She loves to figure things out for herself and relish in the accomplishment therein.  She is always game for a new adventure and the mundane is often exciting when you are with Maya because the world is such a cool place through her eyes.   It's kind of like hanging out with Mary Poppins.

 

For instance, we had a team car wash for the Trek Across Maine and Maya was happy to attend.  She helped me hold the signs advertising the car wash for close to an hour by the side of the road.  With my iPhone tucked into her hood playing our Pandora Raffi station and a rousing game of I Spy, she was content. 

 

But when we started to get some business is when she really started to shine.

 

Maya doesn't need much to keep her happy.  A hand to hold, a beach to comb, a hug every hour keeps her bright and smiling. 

Sea glass hunting on Beals Island



Curly-haired, blondy cousins

Maya has such a deep love of nature and beauty. The week after her preschool graduation, she attended a four day imagination camp at the school. They built fairy houses and this was Maya's.   More like a fairy tribute than a house but whose to say what fairies like?

Maya is such a goofball and loves to trick and play games. Sandi's family loves this in equal measure.  You can't really see that Maya's laughing her head off here but she is.  (And no, they are not actually sitting on her.)  She made them do this to her a number of times.

When Maya doesn't care about something she says,"I don't matter."  For instance, we might say, "Maya if you swing that stuffed kitty around by its neck it might rip the head off" and she would reply, "I don't matter."

Maya has adjusted so well to wearing her hearing aids. She is very responsible with them, asks to have them put in, remembers to take them off (better than I do) before her bath and tuck them safely in their case. The improvement in the volume and chaos of our house since she began wearing them is palpable and we often notice that when things get nuts that we have failed to put her hearing aids in. She takes so much of this in stride that we sometimes have to pause and recognize how lucky we are that this has gone so smoothly and that we have a child who can roll with the punches the way she can.

The other day Maya said to me, "I love being a kid."  I said, "Oh yeah?  Why is that?"  She answered: "Because I love having you as my Momma."

It is with a sense of panic that I have realized that next year with both kids in school full time, I will not have time alone with Maya anymore.  I am relishing these last few days with just Maya before Ella is out of school.  Anyone who has more than one child knows the merit of spending time one of one with them.  It is an entirely different relationship in the absence of sibling dynamics. 

Last week we hiked up the very short and steep Bald Mountain in Dedham.  I loved the feel of her little hand in mine as we climbed and then, during the steeper parts, the small heft of her on my back and she clung to me and gabbed in my ear.  We had plenty of time to admire the flowers, investigate nature, profess our love for each other and even eat Teddy Grahams on the summit in alternating patterns of honey and chocolate bears.

She was so proud of herself when she got to the top!

  
As we were hikinig I got to thinking about the book Blueberries for Sal when Sal has a blueberry picking adventure with a baby black bear.  There are blueberry bushes up on Bald Mountain and I've always hoped not to run into a bear.  (I think this is a very slim possibility, but the mother's mind is an overactive place.) 

I began to run the scenerio through my head.  What if we came upon a bear and it was at all aggressive? I pictured myself tucking Maya into my belly, curling around her like a question mark, and crouching into a desperate version of child's pose with her safely inside.  I realized, with startling clarity, that I would serve myself up on a platter for a bear if it meant even a slight chance at saving my daughter. 

This kind of love, a love that is so uniquely specific to parents a children, yet it is found so abundantly in the human race... if it could be translated to the world at large, imagine the good that could come from it.

There are so many gifts to being a mom, to being Maya's mom.   The way Maya handles life, with ease and joy and gratitude, makes me admire and appreciate her so much. She teaches me how to be more spontaneous, more playful, to see the joy in the single flower petal that has fallen soundlessly to the ground or the way a beam of sunlight makes the kitchen floor look especially radiant.  She loves with such an open, unguarded and generous heart and makes it easier for me to do so.  There is not a day that goes by that Maya doesn't teach me something.

And then there is the fact that in Maya's world, everything holds the possibility of playing monkey.

 

Yesterday, Maya came running into the house saying, "The baby birds are gone out of the nest!! And the Momma bird too! They are gone!" She had been keeping close watch on our neighbors baby birds.

I replied, "Honey, this is a good thing. It means the baby birds have gotten big enough to fly out of the nest and go out on their own."

She stamped her foot. "This is NOT a good thing! I don't want them to get bigger. I want them to stay in the nest forever!"

Oh, don't I understand that.  Better than she realizes.

Maya, ever the competitor, loves to say things like, "I love you more than you love me." We often say, "I love you bigger than the world."  And she will say, "I love you more than that."  Today I told her I loved her more than chocolate.  She looked amazed.  I told her I loved her more than pasta (her favorite).  She looked utterly astonished, her mouth making a big O.  Then, quick as a whip, she replied, "I love you more than that!"

in the garden

I would have told you that summer was, hands down, my favorite season. 

 

And summer has a lot to brag about with its beach days, flip flops, ice cream cones, forgetting what the inside of your house looks like, sun-kissed skin , warm air on bare arms and endless days without anywhere I have to be.

 

Spring is the bouncy wood sprite prepping for the endless party of summer.

 

But the past few springs I have experienced with a joy akin to making your last mortgage payment, learning how to ride a bike for the first time or the feeling I had when I drove down the road alone in my own car after I got my driver's license.  I'm talking unadulterated joy.

 

As if the wondrous experience of our barren, introverted landscape exploding outward in lush, endless shades of green wasn't enough to make me happy, working in the yard and in my gardens is one of my favorite things to do.   Also, Sandi finished her senior project (!!) and last weekend we were able to work side by side in the yard.  Close the night with a glass of wine and that is about as good a date as we need.

 

We decided not to put in a vegetable garden this year because we need a massive infusion of high quality soil (rather than trying to grown veggies on the sand and clay again) and to have that be a project for next year.  Sandi came up with this temporary fix idea to cover/use the plot that was our garden rather than have it be a weedy eye-sore in the middle of the back yard.  Just a few more landscape timbers, a tarp, some mulch and the leftover slate from our patio project.  Now we have a super sunny spot for all our container tomato plants.

 

 

And if that weren't enough, this spring I can multiply the joy by 10 because I have my own little wood sprite helping to lay the carpet for summer's arrival.  Maya is really, REALLY into gardening.  I took her to the nursery as a reward for her hours of help in the yard and she was giddy.

 

 

 For Mother's Day, at preschool she made us each a pot and gave us a packet of seeds.  We each planted them with her and she has been caring for them diligently on the kitchen window sill.  They have made their debut outside and we will plant them in her own little garden.

Part of my glee in seeing spring this year might be that I had an especially dark winter and it feels like everything inside and outside of me is blossoming.   I feel like the tiny sunflower sprout that we discovered a week after Maya helped me plant them.  She waited so patiently over the past month for it to be time to plant and when we finally did she kept saying, "This is the best day ever!  This is the thing I've been wanting to do most!"

 

How can you not adore this level of enthusiasm?

Can you see how the shell is still attached?  It is as though the sprout just burst through the outer covering to find its way up toward the sparkling sun.

 

Yesterday morning Maya and I were out before 6 admiring the garden and checking for new blossoms.   She is so excited to get her shoes and a fleece on and get out there.

She discovered this one on its way toward opening.

 This is currently Maya's favorite flower in the yard, the single blossom on our rosa regosa bush.

 

Our neighbors came over to get the girls to show them this nest of baby birds in their hedge.   You can sort of see the face of the one on the far left but they were all tucked in together.

 

 

 There is nothing like sunrise in a garden.

 

 Spring is the icon of possibility. It is a time of awakenings, unfolding, rebirth and such rapid growth that you could sit and watch it if you had the time. I am nearly tireless this spring, waking at 4, even without an alarm, to the cheerful orchestra of birds outside my window. It is a good thing that the sun eventually goes down this time of year because if not I might never sleep.   Some nights I work in the garden until the mosquitos drive me inside.

 

In so many ways, the blossom that is about to be is just as exquisite, if not more so for all the promise it holds, than the blossom that already is.  

 

 

 

 

Welcome spring. I raise an iced coffee and, to finally make good use of the mint in my garden, a mojito, to you. 

 

 

I stepped outside yesterday and discovered a new scent on the breeze.  I smell it each year and don't know how much I love it until it returns. I'm not certain what flower makes this fragrance but I think it is a wild bush with white flowers that grows along the edge of the woods.  As I experience this spring with a more open, unguarded heart I am often breathless at the arresting beauty and magic all around me. 

 

 So to wonder and amazement and living wide open, I raise a mojito to you as well.