Wild Turkeys

I am not a huge animal lover.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind eating them every now and then, but as an adult I have never owned, nor desired to own a pet.  The thought of feeding, cleaning and caring for a living creature that was not part of me at one time is mildly repulsive. I’m sure the pet lovers out there would argue that I miss out on the joy that pets can bring, but I feel like my life has other sources of joy that are less hairy and slobbery. More than anything, having a pet just sounds tiring. I already two very tiring things in my life named Big E and little g.
However, sometimes I wonder if my anti pet stance hinders my children. Between age two and three, Big E was terrified of any size of dog, and even now tries to hide behind me when big dogs are around. I imagine having pets is a great way to teach responsibility and gentleness to other living things.
In addition to those things, I may be denying little g of one of her little life’s joys.  Every dog, cat or fuzzy creature we spot elicits a smile from little g’s face. At any time of day you can find her clutching tightly to her favorite stuffed animals, toddling around the room as happy as can be.
Luckily, I have found the best of both worlds. Our neighborhood is home to a flock of wild turkeys.  No, flock is too gentle a word.  Perhaps horde or infestation might be more appropriate. There are literally hundreds of the feathered creatures meandering around the houses and roadways.  In the spring, tiny turkeys with irresistible fuzzy feathers toddle along behind their adults, bringing a smile even to my cynical face.
In this video Big E, little g and I went to find the funny creatures.
Big E is saying, “Whoa! Some of them are super close!”

It wasn’t too hard, their tracks run from my yard to my neighbors in a non stop line, not to mention their whistling and gobbling often fill the air. As a result of this field trip little g can now make turkey calls in her 16 month old way.  As E and I yell, “Gobble, gobble!” Little g yells, “GA GA! GA GA!” What’s even cuter? Now every time she sees any bird she yells at the top of her lungs “GA GA!” The poor robins and blue jays just cock their heads and stare.  They obviously don’t speak turkey.

Living in the mountains allows us the proximity of these wild turkeys.  I consider them the neighborhood pets. They find food and shelter for themselves, but allow all of us to observe them, and their babies, in exchange for raiding the occasional bird feeder. Their wildness attracts me. I like to have them around.

Mt. Timpanogos Trailhead

The winter wonderland that I was hoping for this February has not materialized.  When we walk outside instead of seeing fluffy white snow drifts and frost covered tree branches, the sun warms our faces and bluebirds zoom across the sky. Puddles of melting snow provide endless entertainment for the tots. Squirrels dart across the yard and up the maples. The world is brighter and more alive. I have even found myself thinking about planting things.

It’s terrible.

Normally, the change in seasons is cause for rejoicing.  Spring represents the end of a harsh winter, the renewing of the earth and a new season of life.  Yeah, Yeah.  I know all that.  I just wish it would wait a little bit longer.  I only get winter a few weeks a year, and this year I feel like I’m running out of time. When you love snowboarding, but you have two kids who can’t snowboard with you, it makes it tough to see the snow disappear. I live at a ski resort, and I still have not gotten enough snowboarding time.  Spring can come, just wait two more months!

I suppose there are advantages to having warmer weather.  One nice thing is that when I take Big E and little g out on an adventure they can stay warm, and therefore not complain as much. Yesterday I took the kids out for a walk in the woods. It couldn’t be considered a snowshoeing adventure because the trail was so packed down we were all just wearing boots.

We headed to the Mt. Timpanogos trail head at the end of the Alpine Scenic Loop byway.  In the winter the Scenic Loop is closed to cars.  Instead hikers, cross country skiers, snowshoers and snowmobilers enjoy the access to the mountains.

This is Big E at the trail head with the beautiful Mt. Timpanogos behind him.  See how happy he is to be outdoors?

Here we are approximately 100 steps into the trail.  That strip of gray in the background? It’s the parking lot. At this point E decided he wanted a picnic so we sat on the hard packed snow and ate some pretzels.  See how happy little g is?
These are the kids gazing wistfully toward the car.  I asked if E wanted to walk any farther on the trail.  He said, “No, let’s just go home.” So much for nice weather making them want to stay on the trail longer. I wasn’t too surprised.  Ethan had been sick earlier in the week.  I thought he was all better, but maybe he wasn’t quite back to normal. 
I sighed, packed up our snacks and g’s hiking pack and headed back to the car.  Maybe when it’s actually springtime we can try it again.  Yesterday it just wasn’t meant to be.

Motherhood Moments: Do You Smell Something?

My heart goes out to the single parents out there.  Mountain Dad is on a business trip this week which leaves me the sole adult in Big E and little g’s life. I’m once again reminded of all the things Mountain Dad does on a daily basis that I take for granted.  Just his presence in the evenings gives me a break from the constant clamour for attention from my two tots.  With Mountain Dad around there’s another adult to play with, jump on and cry to. With him gone I get to be the playmate, jungle gym and comforter for everyone.

The business trip could not have been at a worse time.  For one thing, our truck is in the shop, thanks to me sliding helplessly into a van and SUV two weeks ago.  On top of that, the afternoon before Mountain Dad flew out Big E suddenly announced, “I’m going to throw up!” Which he did…all over the couch…and the floor.

That one pukey moment led to many more. The first day he couldn’t even keep down water, which meant a lot of worry…and laundry for me. I wouldn’t have minded so much; everyone gets sick sometimes, but I had to cancel an awesome Moab mountain bike adventure I had planned with a single mom friend and her son. Thanks to being sick, instead of exploring Arches National Park we’ve been trapped indoors, watching a lot of Mighty Machines and slowly going stir crazy.

Last night, I put Big E in the tub and started making dinner.  Little g also wanted a bath so I got her undressed and ready to go.  Right before I plopped her in with Big E, she did something amazing.  She saw her dirty shirt on the floor, picked it up and walked into the other room to throw it in the hamper. Unfortunately her tiny arms missed the goal, but it was the thought that counts.

“Good job, little g!” I said. I’ll encourage any sort of cleaning up effort by my kids.  She smiled, picked the shirt up and threw it again.  I herded her toward the dirty clothes bin in an effort to show her where the shirt actually should go.  She got it in there once, but then promptly picked the shirt up and walked back toward the bathroom.

“MOM! G is throwing her shirt in the tub!” Big E yelled from his bath.  I hustled into the bathroom.

“No, no, g. Bring that in here,” I said. She smiled and tried to throw it back in the tub. I gave up, if the shirt got wet it was no big deal, it was going in the wash anyway. Besides, the kitchen timer had rung so I left to check on dinner.

When I returned, Big E was splashing by himself, g was back by the dirty clothes bin and a familiarly unappetizing smell was in the air.

“E, did you poo in the tub?” I asked.

“No, I’m just swimming,” he said. I followed my nose out of the bathroom, down the hall and to little g.  She smiled and giggled, holding her dirty shirt out to me.  Her naked baby body was cute as could be, except for a streak of brown running down her leg.

“EWWW!” I cried and whisked g back into the bathroom, attacking her poo streak with baby wipes. Once cleaned, I did what I should’ve done originally and put her in the tub. She laughed and splashed with her brother, not realizing the grossness of the gift she had left somewhere in her brother’s bedroom.  Armed with more baby wipes and some cleaning supplies I hunted for the missing poo.  It didn’t take long to find.

As quickly as I could, I cleaned up the mess, depositing the dirty baby wipes in a garbage bag.  The whole ordeal was disgusting, but nothing I hadn’t dealt with before. Maybe that’s the mark of a jaded parent, you’re no longer surprised to find a pile of your kids poo on the bedroom floor.  The funny thing was, I think it was easier to clean it up that way than the daily wrestling match I normally have.  My wiggly one-year-old does not like laying down to get her diaper changed.

Maybe I should just let her walk around naked all the time. Then again, maybe not.

Winter X Games here I come!

The joy of snowboarding for me is the challenge.  When I started out, I couldn’t even get off the lift without falling.  Now I crave the steeps of black diamond runs and the powder of backcountry.  I love snowboarding.  
This video is my recent attempt to challenge myself in the sport again.  One of my goals this year is to land a 360 on my board.  I’m not there yet, but this is at least progress.