"Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy!" From the back seat, my daughter quickly yells out my title again and again, in a whiny, high-pitched voice that pierces my ears, sending shivers down my spine. The amazing speed at which she can sling together the "mommies" is purely astounding, yet stirs up the nastiest frustration known to woman. "WHAT?!!!" I angrily mutter in return at my bored daughter, who simply wants to get out of the car and the uncomfortable car seat restraints. From the driver seat, my husband looks at me as we both sigh and think to ourselves,
this is going to be a looooooong trip.
I continue to envision that my daughter will follow in my and my husband's footsteps of being outdoorsy, and in love with nature, extreme sports, camping, and the peacefulness of it all. And at 19 months, with her fondness for wiggly creatures, climbing anything semi-vertical, love for dirt, and general ease with being in a backpack for miles upon miles, we decided to take her along on our 5th year wedding anniversary trip to
Tuolomne Meadows in
Yosemite National Park. Yet with two hours to go and miles from the park entrance, I was already willing to turn back. The repeated shouts of "mommy" and melt-downs were almost enough to abandon the trip altogether. However, somehow we placated her needs with unusual toys of straws, cups, and string while the thoughts of granite, the smell of pines, and clear blue skies somehow helped us through it.
As rock climbers, my husband and I had been to the
climbing-mecca of Yosemite many times. In fact, it was where my husband proposed, where we got married, where we hiked with our daughter when she was 6 weeks old, and where we took her camping for the first time when she was 6 months old. Yet, ever since my pregnant baby belly grew beyond the safest point of my belt on my climbing harness, both my husband and I have not really climbed. It's one of the things we haven't yet figured out how to do safely with a toddler as well as without a babysitter. So this visit to
Yosemite was more to be among the granite and to enjoy the scenery with our baby girl.
After finding a level camping spot for our truck where the three of us would sleep in a make-shift bed under the shelter of an average camper shell, we enjoyed some overly cheesy quesadillas followed by some decadent chocolate. We attempted our regular bathing and nighty-night routines with so-so substitutions of baby-wipes and reading the same few books over and over by headlamp. Cali slept next to me on a 3/4 length
Thermarest in my old winter mountaineering sleeping bag rated to -10 degrees (I didn't want a repeat of our camping trip last year where her little hand sneaked its way out of her bunting in the 35 degree weather. All I could think about was frostbitten fingers on my little baby!). Luckily she fell fast asleep when she hit the sleeping bag (must have been all the whining!) and we soon followed. For the next few nights, we slept in this arrangement, I nestled between my hubbie and daughter cooed by the swooshing sound of restlessness in sleeping bags and the deep breathing of my daughter.
"Mommy?" Cali woke us up nice and early somewhere just before daybreak. Sooooo glad were not in a tent- there's no reason for the rest of the campground to wake just because Cali is hungry. After a morning nursing, I attempted to dress within my sleeping bag where it was 30 degrees warmer than outside. If you have never tried changing clothes within the confinement of a mummy bag and low ceiling of a back of a truck, you may not understand just how difficult this feat is. After 20 minutes of twisting, grunting, and gratefulness to my regular stretching routines, I finally managed to get on enough clothes to make the 45 degrees more bearable, let alone a few strained muscles from the contorting. I layered Cali to the point it looked like we were going to the Arctic. In our layers, we played with dirt, ate some breakfast and started on our hike for the day.
We hiked from our campsite past
Lembert Dome with Rob carrying
Cali in an old-school
Kelty backpack and I with a full pack of snacks and drinks.
Ohhhhhhh.
Lembert Dome is so beautiful. It was somewhat painful to skirt by this gorgeous granitic dome knowing we weren't there to climb, simply to hike and admire. After I wiped the jealous drool from my mouth, we hiked towards our second destination of
Young Lakes. The September weather was absolutely perfect and Cali was extremely well-behaved during the roughest of the trails' ascent. After a few miles, she dozed off and we could hoof past the streams and meadows to an overlook of
Ragged Peak. When she woke and had enough, we stopped for lunch amid the sweet pines and beautiful boulders. It was beautiful! It was so fun watching her run around, dancing with the pin needles in hand, grabbing sticks, throwing rocks, and telling us everything she knew. Despite our attempts to discourage Cali from touching marmot droppings, and the need to turn back sooner than planned due to some pre-blisters forming, things were going smooth. That was until we started back.
When we would stop, we all had a blast. Cali especially loved the granite and would hop, skip and dance on it. At the Tuolomne River near Glen Aulin she splashed and played in the beautiful waters. It was fun. And then it was time for the long hike back. Any outdoorsy parent will know that when you are miles into a hike and your kids starts freaking out, you have two options: 1.) continue the hike in a quickened pace and try to distract her with songs, pointing out familiar objects, or feeding her snacks OR 2.) submit to the shrilling demands and let her down to walk at a ridiculously slow rate where 3 miles feels like 16. We opted for option one AND two on both of our 2 days of hiking and despite our hearing loss and the frustration of resident animals accustomed to silence, we were able to hike over 17 miles. To lessen the melt-downs, we stopped regularly to play in the pristine water, let Cali hike small portions of the heavily-used trails, and hiked at a cheetah's pace when she was asleep in the backpack.
At the end of the days, we visited Tenaya Lake for swimming, snacking, and playing in the sand. Then we'd brush off and scramble up these perfect granite slabs. Cali impressed us by throwing a tantrum so she
COULD go climb some more.
That's my girl! She climbed up a climber's descent, which was something like a class 3. Rob climbed hovered over her as she climbed, monitoring her moves and recommending easier paths. She stopped in a few huecos (or "holes") and would just stare out to the floor 150' below. It was magical.
And that summed up how the vacation went. Things went smooth, and then there'd be a melt-down, some quiet time, then we'd be back at it, doing something amazing. In efforts to maintain authority and not succumb to a pre-two year-old's temper tantrums, we tried to calm her with distractions, changing up our activities, and mellow discipline. Though it was a bit stressful and was far from the "relaxing" vacation we planned, we found a way to all exercise outside together, enjoying the sights of Yosemite. (Though next time, I may beckon Baba and G-Pa for some babysitting so we can have a go on Lembert :).
Posts
daughter has grown up so darn fast and I will never get those 20 months, and all the love and cute experiences, back. Still flushing out hormones, I project the future. I imagine her at 13 rolling her eyes at me in embarrassment saying, "Moooooommm!", like I did to my heart-broken mom. I imagine her driving off in her first car, leaving me worried when the minute hand passes curfew. And I imagine myself watching her go off to college, all grown up and independent, no longer needing me to help in any way, shape or form. Ultimately, that's how it goes. But I definitely have loved this time of watching her mimic how I brush my hair, dance around to silly songs, and give me the biggest hugs known to humans. I guess all in all, I am the one that is growing up too, learning to be not only a helper and teacher to my little angel, but guide her along the way and to be okay with it as it is dealt. Nevertheless, I think these couple of weeks of sad spells is my body's way of accepting this benchmark in our family life.
