Escaping Mud Season

Growing up in North Idaho, I remember having five seasons: Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter, and Mud. Mud Season was the result of a winter's worth of snow melting and all the water completely saturating the ground. This caused everything from landslides to unnavigable driveways. One year the entire highway north of town slid away, effectively blocking one of the major transportation routes between the U.S. and Canada. Many years we had to park the car at the bottom of the driveway and haul our groceries up by mud-toboggan. Eventually my parents had enough and my family started spending Mud Season in Hawaii. I decided to start Acacia off early in this respect.

Mud Season isn't so severe in Alaska. Maybe it's because the ground composition is different -- it's generally wet and boggy around here (hence the helicopter-sized mosquitoes), so the ground may just accept the extra water better. It's definitely wet, just not muddy. Nonetheless, as Mud Season approached this year, Acacia and I found ourselves flying over the Pacific for her first plane ride and first trip to the Big Island of Hawaii, where her Grammy and Grampa live.

The decision for this epic mommy-baby journey was made back in January, when Dave went away on a two week business trip -- his first since Acacia was born. Acacia and I quickly agreed that we didn't like staying home alone while Daddy was out of town, so we made arrangements to take matters into our own hands the next time work called him away. Luckily, my parents didn't object to the idea of cuddling with their grandbaby for a couple weeks.

The rest of winter flew by. After Dave returned from his trip in February, Rosie, my best friend since childhood, flew out from Boston for a last-minute whirlwind spring break in sunny Alaska. We communed with the baby, drove up Hatcher Pass, and watched the sled dogs at Fur Rondy in Anchorage. The day after Rosie left, my sister Kerry flew up from Seattle. Kerry came up with a dual role as family visitor and petsitter -- we spent two weeks cooing over Acacia and doing general sisterly things, then she spent the next two weeks taking care of the house and pets while Dave went on his business trip to California and Acacia and I headed for paradise.

Hawaii with my parents was bliss. Acacia took instantly to being an island baby. After being cooped up indoors due to sub-freezing weather for, well, her entire life, she literally had a whole new world opened up to her -- a warm, breezy, sweet-smelling, bright-colored, grassy, sunny world, full of loving arms to hold her and inviting laps to sit in. Acacia's first teether was a big chunk of raw coconut. She dipped her toes in the warm Pacific on a bright sandy beach. She relaxed with Mom on a picnic table at the Warm Ponds while Dad and I bodysurfed the breakers. She nursed in the shade at two different city parks. When she got bored or fussy, her Grampa would take her in his arms and go visit the chickens and pigs, or her Grammy would take her on a tour of all the pretty tropical plants in the yard and garden. It goes without saying, then, that this was definitely a relaxing vacation for mommy! I understand now why people have always lived in tribes -- it really does take a village (or at least an extended family).

Sad as we were to leave my parents, Acacia and I were happy to be home with Dave again at the end of March. As the snow melted outside, we busied ourselves with finishing up the chicken coop, getting our first chickens, planting seeds for our garden, working on the airplane, and doing some spring cleaning around the house and yard. It's also finally warm enough to start taking walks with Acacia, so she's starting to get some Alaskan fresh air and outdoor time.

Mud Season is almost over now. The snow is gone, except in the darkest corners of our little farm, and there are hints of green in the brown world outside. The days are getting longer and longer, and each of them holds new wonders for Acacia -- and for those of us lucky enough to spend our time with the amazing little person she's becoming.