Big Sky Bound

A whole quarter has passed since my last post – how did that happen? Josie has changed into a running, jumping, talking, tantruming, two-year-old (almost). These adjectives are the biggest reason for not having any free time to post.

Josie is obsessed with the itsy-bitsy “pider” and spiders in general. I mean, what baby isn’t? So before she develops fear for these 8 legged friends, I thought we would support her obsession with a little Halloween art project. Matt would much rather have been doing some “real” home projects, but adding Josie to the mix makes most things a two-person ordeal. And sometimes he just has to suck it up and support my daughter-of-a-4th-grade-teacher art projects.

Pider obsessed:

Pider kiss

Josie, as always, was a huge help:

Helping

DONE! and pretty spooky if I do say so myself:

Remember how last time I said I didn’t have any hobbies since Josie came along? Well I found a new one! Unfortunatly it is seasonal and short-lived (spring for a few weeks) and you have to hang out in a burned out forest, which I actually enjoy. It’s…drum roll…mushroom hunting! Josie, Matt and I packed up today and drove an hour away to a spot called Jerry Johnson where there was a fire a year ago. Matt had it on good authority that the pickin’ of morel mushrooms would be easy. For those of you who are not up on your mycology (the study of mushrooms), the morel is a tasty, elusive, non-poisonous beauty that tends to grow in fire burned areas the spring after a fire. It is big business in these parts.

perfect conditions

Just to make things interesting, Josie decided to scream for most of the car ride there no matter what food or toy I bribed her with. By the time we got to the trailhead our nerves were fried and we were having serious regrets.

We headed into the woods and passed a dozen dudes coming out with monster backpacks, buckets and bags of morel mushrooms. Matt informed me they were pros with permits and had probably picked everything dry. We hiked 2 miles in and ventured just off the trail into a burned out area. Matt found the first little tiny morel and we breathed a sigh of relief that we could go home with one in hand, our heads held high. Then we hit the motherload…OH, the adrenaline of finding 15 big ones in one spot. In moments we were addicted to the hunt.

hidden bugger

an eyebrow raising mushroom

Josie was a huge help. She spent her time trying to run off the side of the trail, eating random pieces of the forest floor and fussing about her man ride:

get me off this big sweaty Dada!

found one!!

the haul

Here is the the mushroom portrait before they go into the freezer:

the big, the small and the ugly

What a fun day! Hopefully I can practice my hobby again next spring.

We recently hired a new CEO at my work and as part of his introductions he asked us to go around and tell him what our hobbies are. I froze then panicked. What are my hobbies? Do I have any? Could I say “infant sleep training and half-assed house cleaning?” I took a deep breath and decided to channel my cooler inner self of two years ago…I had hobbies then, right? I stuck with the standard Montana answer, fishing and hiking, even though I am not currently doing either.

My mom came to town a couple weeks later to help with Josie. Matt and I decided it was time to revive those cool people of long ago and go fly fishing. It took us over an hour to locate all the fishing gear we have jammed here and there over the years. I was dreading trying on my no-mercy-no-elastic-pre-baby-body waders, but somehow they fit! With one beer to split, two apples, trail mix, water and all the fishing gear we could wrangle we were off.

We decide on an “in-town” fishing spot called Kelly Island because there was the distinct possibility of Josie freaking out and needing a mom-mom or dada.

It was beautiful, quiet and tranquil on the river….and much needed.

Tie one on

Beautiful Skwala!

I am not embarrassed to admit that we caught nothing, in fact, we didn’t even get a bite! This outing was less about catching the big one and more to prove to ourselves that those free-spirited, cool people who moved to Missoula four years ago still exist and are emerging after a couple years figuring out how to be new parents. Look out fish, we’re back!

Something else that we used to be much better at was getting the black pack into their natural environment–the wild. Since Josie came along the dogs have been playing second and third fiddle and are not happy about it. They have acted out in a variety of ways including, but not limited to, eating every piece of bread that comes into our house; dumping and eating the trash; bum-rushing dogs and people they deem sketchy; digging holes in the backyard, pooping in the garden, fighting dogs that look at them funny…I should stop as my blood is starting to boil. We came home this week to find Wade’s indiscretion on his head:

I love Raisin-Bran!

This bag had obviously been on for hours and we feel lucky that he was okay. We hope that he didn’t kill off either of his brain cells. Okay, okay, their life is not all bad…check it:

Into the woods!

Best buds

While we do miss a part of who we used to be and our adventures and hobbies, this is really our favorite hobby these days:

Cone head

It has been a long two weeks. I have been traveling for 10 days out of the last 12 for work, worrying that Josie will forget who I am. Through the wonders of technology I have been able to watch Josie stuff her face, cruise around, and act wild on Skype. Whenever Matt takes out his computer now she points and says – Mom-mom!! Apparently I live in the computer.

Pack me!

Josie has been growing-up at breakneck speed. We have been particularly tickled watching her tri-chompers come in.

Check out my chicklet

It is amazing the amount and variety of food three teeth can mash. I guess if you have been used to eating with gums for a year you make it work. She also bit my finger the other day and they are as sharp as baby shark teeth!

Naked lunch!

In other exciting news (it’s sad what is exciting to us these days), Josie has graduated to a new car seat! I have been feeling like she needs to know her Vermont roots, so when I saw the Britax Pavilion in cowmooflage print, I knew we had found a winner. Matt did all the important (boring) research on safety and it has arrived! Josie is psyched to get out of her infant seat but will probably scream in the car regardless of her swanky new throne.

Am I camooflaged?

Black Pack Update:

Where we used to support the wildness and spirit of our pack, these days we are trying to control it. Having a wild baby and two high energy cattle dogs has pushed us to buy some devices of control like a gate to relegate the dogs to the back of the mini van. Wade thought this was b.s. and found a way to squash his pea brain to the flatness of paper and crawl under the gate. We moved the gate down and he found a way to separate the bars and jump through the middle. That dog is dumb as rocks, but determined!

I was both thrilled and worried about Josie being born in Montana for a few reasons. 1) She might only like venison steaks and 2) she will never want to leave this vast state – much like her dad. Another reason, a little further down the list, is that she will not identify with New England, my home stomping ground and half her genetic make-up. I have already made her taste REAL Vermont maple syrup; I read her bedtime stories about Maine and Vermont; I dress her in Magic Hat Brewing Company and Shelburne Farms t-shirts; I even put up a Vermont license plate light switch cover in her bedroom…all in the hopes that my half of the genes will sink in.

The native Montanans of the family

Yesterday evening I took additional steps to strengthen Josie’s New England roots by taking her to Lobsterfest. Once a year, the Montana Club Restaurant hosts this event. They fly in fresh Maine lobsters for 2 days and poor land-locked Montanans can get a taste of the sea. I grew up vacationing in Maine every summer, and had my first lobster at age 2. I can clean a lobsta (as we say in Maine) with one hand tied behind my back and blind-folded and I am a purist – no butter and no shell cracker. These skills are completely irrelevant and useless living in Montana. Still, I hope that Josie will learn all these important tricks in solidarity.

Last year, Matt and I went to Lobsterfest while I was horribly pregnant, miserable and practically immobile. I had not left the house in weeks, but somehow dug deep to get my fat butt out the door for the taste of lobster.

Best hour of my pregnancy

This year lived up to the anticipation I had been feeling for a year. We squeezed Josie into a Maine Diner lobster t-shirt we retired 6 months ago and headed to the Montana Club at 3:30 to beat the rush.

Josie thought lobster was okay, but she LOVED the rolls – go figure. All and all, it was a-MAINE-zing (that was Matt’s bad joke).