3 Happy Campers

At the end of September, we embarked on our first family vacation to the Great Smoky Mountains. While I was nervous about taking a 6 month old baby camping, it turned out to be a truly wonderful experience.  Despite cutting his first two teeth on the trip, Everett was a very happy camper.  He actually slept better in the tent than in his crib at home… I think I’m going to pitch a tent in our backyard!  The absolute best part of the trip was spending 7 days with Ben and Everett.  I locked my cell phone in the trunk of the car and Ben didn’t even crack open a Cardiology textbook.  Everett loved the new sights and sounds.  Ben encouraged him touch every different type of tree and rock we encountered and Everett just loved having daddy around all day long. Here are some highlights…

Our first night at the campsite...Everett is so happy to be out of the car at last!

It was chilly that first morning!

We saw four bears on our trip (safely from our car!). We captured the first one with our camera here. The second sighting was a mama bear and her two cubs climbing down from one of the trees. I was too awestruck to fumble for the camera.

Good Morning! We borrowed a tent suite from Ben's parents...big enough for a Pack n' Play and an air mattress. I guess we weren't really roughing it!

Snuggling with my own little bear cub on a rainy morning.

We hiked to Laurel Falls where Everett got to lay on the cool stone at the waterfall base.

Soaking up the scenic view!

Niche Nouveau

Contrary to the alliterative title of this post, the new “hat” I am donning is not one of cosmopolitan world traveler nor have I learned to cook Julia Child’s coq au vin--though both are future endeavors on my bucket list.  Rather, I have joined the elite rank of stay-at-home mom–and please don’t read any sarcasm in my use of the term elite.  This is a tough job that I feel so fortunate to have.

On top of trading my 9-year teaching career in for this new role, I have also jumped down the compass–leaving the Minnesota lakes and subzero Januarys for the rolling hills and friendly drawls of the South.  While the summer heat has made for some cooped-up days, Nashville’s warmth extends beyond the thermometer.  I’m falling for our neighborhood.  Sylvan Park is a pocket of old homes cradled by tree branches and  unassuming charm.  Nearly every front porch is decorated with a swing and an oversized painted rocking chair, but there are enough stray strollers and unweeded flower beds to beat out any pretentiousness or suburban standards.

While I have been known to stare longingly at the school supply aisles in Target, desperately wanting to buy a brand new package of dry erase markers that holds colorful promises of handprinted greetings and daily reading assignments–I am at peace with veering towards the diaper aisle instead, holding Everett’s tiny fingers as he snuggles up against me in the carrier and coos at the old ladies buying sweet tea and Goo Goo clusters. This is a new spot–geographically, psychologically, culturally…but I think it’s a good one.

Through these changes come the excitement of finding out new parts of myself–or parts that have always been there but have been buried away…like the writer self I am dusting off now. And the “mommy” self who at risk of parroting the cliche–is continuously amazed by how much love one heart can hold.