Bump Break...

I'm taking a short break in the Colorado posts to talk about this little bump.
In the last few weeks, it has grown from a little belly to something I find myself staring down at for most of the day. People ask me if I'm pregnant now, which I find brave, considering I'd never dare ask a woman a question that dangerous.

I don't mind when people rub my belly and no one has had to feel the wrath of this hormonal mess I am going through. I did however find myself drinking pickle juice at midnight, and felt overwhelmingly cliche.



A sweet client knit me this little pumpkin cap for next Fall. This time next year, we'll have a 6 month old to dress in a costume. It's terrifying how quickly life changes. A year ago was just yesterday, and a year ahead will be only tomorrow.



The truth about being pregnant is that it's been hard.
My whole life I've never had to slow down for anyone or anything. I am a busy body with big plans and long to-do's and the last few months have really taught me a lesson about myself.
This isn't about me anymore. I knew it going in, and I realize it loudly these last few weeks. My body is failing me, growing tired, heavy, and weak. Sickness, headaches, flooding emotions & changes in my body remind me that I is no longer singular and we are one unit, trying to get through 9 months and safely make it to the other side.

The hardest question I have been asked is: Do you like being pregnant?

Honestly, no, I don't. I always thought one day I would find myself in a sunny, perfect morning -pregnant, and beaming with the beauty and life that is motherhood. And the truth is, that day never came for me. It has been a rough road for me, losing control over a life I had tight reigns on. Some days, a lot of days, I am cussing at all the gross and perverse things that are going on with my body. We still call baby parasite, and one night Michael told me that he was worried I really felt that way.

I really feel that way.

This is our baby and I love it in ways I've never loved anything before. I love it like a thought or idea or figment of my imagination. A story, daydream, or vacation planned 9 long months in advance.

But it's still a parasite. Making me sick, tired, causing me to faint and get hives and eat things I don't want to eat.
I'm okay with this conclusion I have come to, and don't feel like it makes me any less of a Mother to feel this way.

So I guess I have to be honest and say that while I love the reward, the daydream, the figment that will be here this Spring, I don't love the process.
But I also will say that for every 346th time I go to the bathroom, or for every smell that makes me gag or pair of jeans I outgrow, there is something special, and almost, maybe almost sunny-beautiful-beaming-motherhoody about the first time you feel your baby move inside your own body.

For five days in a row, I have felt JuJu swim like a fantail goldfish across my belly. And each and every time I can go to that spot with my hands, and feel it under my skin. A little back, elbow, head...I can't even tell. & I probably shouldn't be poking. But I am also grateful for these days. The ones that remind me that maybe this whole thing isn't so disgusting and invasive, after all.

Hello, baby.

*PS, we find out Thanksgiving week if JuJu is a boy or girl.

Arriving at the Y u r t s...(Colorado: Part Two)

Monday morning we woke up in our hotel room in Alamosa, Colorado. We had a two hour drive ahead of us before we reached Leadville, and finally, our Yurt.
We had been warned on the phone ahead of time that unless we had 4 wheel drive, it would be a long hike to the 2 Yurts hidden in Leadville back country. Petey has 4 wheel drive, so we headed confidently into the mountains, expecting to drive right up to our destination.



We spent a little time in Leadville, a historic city built in the mountains. Once an old mining town, it is full of museums, antique stores, and run down mine shafts.
The city is surrounded by the 14ers, and it's absolutely breath-taking. It feels like no tiny bit of world exists outside of what your eye can see.



Every store we went into proudly displayed tshirts, posters, and souvenirs naming each and every one of the 54 mountains in the area that you could summit. And at the top of every list was Elbert. I felt sick, knowing that in 3 days it would be me on that mountain.



Before we left town to spend 2 days in the middle of nowhere, we stopped at a few old mines. Still intact, 100 + years after they were first used.



The road to the Yurts was rocky, steep, and slow. With every minute that passed we stretched farther and farther away from anyone or any thing familiar. Our phones lost service, the woods grew thicker, and Petey dragged on.
And then about half an hour into our drive, he gave up. We backed up and tried pushing forward faster, but not even our 4 wheel drive was enough to climb the steep rocks that were marked "road." I wondered what kind of vehicle actually could make it up these mountains.

So we had to abandon Petey. We parked him in some trees and peed all around him in case some bears decided to come sniff out the food we had to leave behind. And as we packed 100 pounds of gear and started our long hike to the Yurts, it started to rain. Perfectly ironic.



One backpack on the front, one on the back, carrying almost 40 pounds of extra weight, I wasn't doing so well.
And then before I knew it, I was sick. Really sick. I told Michael to get the backpack off my stomach because I felt like I was going to pass out. Two seconds later I was gone. Laying on the ground and feeling cold mountain rain on my cheeks. All I wanted to do was poop. Seriously. It is all I could think about at that point. My dear husband was in charge of finding me the most soft, supple leaves possible, and I made like a bear and pooped in the woods.

Not even a week later, I was standing in the bathroom staring at 2 lines, and suddenly my moment of getting sick, passing out, and pooping in the woods made complete sense. Little did I know I was almost 4 weeks pregnant that day, backpacking to our Yurt in Leadville back country.



Finally the sun came out and the trees thinned. We knew we were almost above treeline, and almost to our Yurt. We stopped at an old abandoned cabin, and I may or may not have brought home a little piece of it.



We passed a reservoir along the way, that was home to 3 sweet lady cows. We named them all Bessie, and saw them quite a few times over the next 2 days that we stayed.

The last leg of the hike was the worst. It was the steepest part of our hike, and the air had thinned now that we were above treeline. I wanted nothing more than to be there. We didn't know what to expect, but I knew it was better than what I was feeling at that point.



And then we found our Yurt. With one map and directions on how to get there, we made it. And it was perfect. Two Yurts, one outhouse, and one wood shed.



Inside we found everything we needed. No running water, electricity, or phone service, but we had towels, firewood, pots and pans, a wood burning stove to keep us warm and cook on, and prayer flags hung from the ceiling.

Hello, Yurt.



I started cooking our soup while Hunter snoozed at my feet, tired from our long hike to the Yurt. I should have made him carry the backpack full of canned food.



Michael chopped extra wood and I explored and found some old bones. I wonder who they belonged to.



The Yurt was like a dream. Two full days away from everything. No tv, internet, phones, people, cars, or static. We were a 45 minute drive away from Leadville, with nothing around for miles. Perfect.



After dinner we headed back down to the watering hole to look around. Hunter went for a swim and we rested our tired bones.



It was so quiet. A kind of quiet I've never experienced before. One that echos so loud in your head that it's almost deafening.

There was a steep mountain up above our Yurt, so we decided to hike up it and see what was on the other side.



And there was Leadville. Reality sunk in that we were just that far away from the closest person. They couldn't even see us standing on top of that mountain if they squinted, and I wouldn't have had it any other way.



On one side we had Leadville, one big squint away. And on the other side below us, we had our Yurts. I felt like I was standing on top of the world.





And up there was something else. Miles away we were staring at the monster. Elbert towered in the distance, reminding me that I wasn't even close to being on top of the world. 2,300 feet higher than where we stood was the summit of that mountain. It was in the clouds, tipped with snow and intimidation.



We waited for the sunset, and stayed until it was so cold that we had to run back down to our Yurt to start a fire.



We turned on our lantern and made some hot tea on the stove while dinner was cooking: cornbread, beans, and rice. I think every moth in the Rocky Mountains was inside our Yurt, and we took turns smooshing them so I could sleep that night, without worrying about moths in my hair.

Finally it was dark, and it was the first night I got to run outside and completely disappear into one of my favorite things about Colorado: the stars.



We ate dinner outside. If it hadn't been 30 degrees, I could have slept out there under that sea of lights. The stark spine of the mountain against that night sky, I didn't want to be anywhere but there.


We went to bed early, because when morning came, it would be time to tackle Horeshoe Mountain. Tomorrow we would be hiking to it from the Yurt, and climbing to the top. One more full day of hiking to prepare us for Thursday. Elbert, here we come.

next: Part Three: Day two in the Yurt, and a day of hiking.

On the road again.... (Colorado: Part One)

In July, we packed up Petey and hit the road for our hiking/camping trip to Colorado. I thought I'd finally get around to sharing a few photos and stories from that trip.
We decided to take a different route than our usual drive north through Kansas. We headed though the Oklahoma panhandle, New Mexico, and finally ended up in Colorado about 10 hours after we started.



Driving through Oklahoma looks like a whole bunch of this. Old barns, towns with only a stop sign and run-down gas station (population of 8) and lots and lots of open fields. It's actually borderline scary to drive through most of the state if you're not used to it. It's the kind of drive where you can go an hour and not see one town. It's best to make sure your car isn't going to break down, that you have plenty of supplies, and you don't need gas.



Finally in the panhandle we were able to start seeing the New Mexico mountains in the background. It was well over 100 degrees and we saw some of the most hideous, giant grasshoppers we'd ever seen. They're not afraid of you, either. This one kept coming straight at us until we fled back to the car wishing we'd never left it.
We called it the land shark, and cursed all the creepy creatures that can only survive in arid conditions like the Oklahoma panhandle.




In New Mexico, the beautiful thunderstorms started to roll in. It was such a nice break from driving 6 hours in 100+ heat and sun. Finally we were able to open the windows and breathe in the mountain air.



When we drove over the Colorado border, the sunshine started to pour in, again.



We were headed to Leadville, and we were just 2 hours away when I started to see the first of the 14ers. They were intimidating, and I was nervous. Traveling to Colorado a handful of times in my life never seemed as scary as the moment I looked up at a mountain this size and realized we were here to climb to the top.
It was Monday morning, and in 3 days we would get ready to summit Mt. Elbert, the tallest mountain in the range. I stared at them from the window, wondering what it would be like to reach the top of the snow capped mountain.



Ready or not, we had 3 days to get ready for the most challenging hike we'd been on. We pushed on to Leadville back country, where our Yurts were waiting for us.

next: Part Two: The Yurts

It's been f o u r years...

And lots has changed.

Happy Anniversary, love.
(more detailed explanation of the last four years, to come)




We're going to spend the day exploring, looking for a crib, and eating yummy food.

The State Fair

A few weeks ago it was State Fair time. I always count down the minutes until my annual corn dog and mullet sightings. It was our 7th State Fair together. The years are flying by.
This year I pet an emu, ate chocolate covered bacon, and watched MC Hammer perform. He was just as terrible as I remembered, and it was still amazing.

I wish I could tell you that Michael didn't eat a donut burger. But that would be a lie. To make matters worse, it was a bacon cheeseburger on a donut. Uck.

One Day ..... (10.10.10)

Ryan first posted about 10.10.10, One Day on Earth a few months ago. I was planning big ideas in my head of all the interesting places I could go to capture my one tiny bit to contribute.
But then the months rolled by and I got pregnant, and boring :) Our vacations were put on hold, and I began to wonder what in the world I could find interesting with just another Sunday in Oklahoma.

As it turns out, Sunday happens to be my favorite day of the week. And even though we didn't do anything out of the usual, every day is still a beautiful day, as long as you want it to be.

Here are a few bits and pieces of our day:



Waking up is always easy (and bright) when your bedroom windows get East sun.



Spending time with Hunter.



Picking (& eating) from the garden.




I send Michael to pick tomatoes. The plants have grown over 7 feet tall, and Charlotte has laid babies all around my little jungle. I don't go in the garden, anymore.



Taking Elsie for a spin. I told you she was the perfect shade of green.



Listening to baby. Tick-tock, little heart.



Spending the evening on a blanket in the park, at a Human Rights Festival.
We listened to music and people watched.



This precious little boy had quite the infatuation with Hunter. Such a beautiful family, I have actually photographed them before, splashing in puddles at a music festival last Fall.



September, 2009

We seem to see them everywhere we go. He is French, she's American, and little one speaks both, fluently. I absolutely was awe struck watching his Dad whisper in his ear in words I couldn't even wrap my mind around. Beautiful.





After John played his set, he came to eat a few jalapenos from my garden. And almost burned to death. At least he ate them after he played.
This is his real smile, after faking a jalapeno choke. I have been known to point the camera at you for 10 minutes if it means you finally cave and give me your real smile.

That evening we had a thunderstorm. Those are my favorite nights to relax...



...and pretend like I don't notice that a giant growth in my belly is disabling me from bending as far as I used to. Keep growing, little one. I can wait.


And here it is, the video of our day.

One Day - (10.10.10) from Aura on Vimeo.

Sometimes the best days are the most uneventful ones. Where you spend time doing exactly what you normally do, nothing out of the ordinary. I live for the simplicity and monotony of doing just that. Even if it takes me capturing every second of my day and looking back on it, realizing it wasn't so boring, after all.

Every day, we are a part of something huge. In our little spaces, nestled in our own safe places, we make up one tiny fragment of all the life that is going on around us. Every day we wake up and contribute to our place in this world. I hope your contribution is positive, inspirational, and full of love.

We are all here for a reason. Find yours.

*song is "One Day" by Matisyahu