A Day Off

Ever since I had my first baby, a beautiful blonde tiny girl with a halo on her head and a dimple in her chin, I didn't want to let go of her. She was so dang hard to get into this world that I got a little protective over her. I mean, after having two mutt dogs that sleep outside rain or shine and that drive around in the back of the truck at 65 mph, a baby is SO fragile and dependent.

I know I was born to be a Mother...amongst other things. I took to it with a surge of energy and passion, but that didn't mean I knew what I was doing. I had a lot of theories that broke real quick. Babies do not want to ride in a back pack down a trail for hours on end just because you love nature. Instead, she just might have to poop when you put her in there and then, because you can't speak baby, ends up crying the whole time you figured she would gaze up at the trees and blue sky in awe. Such a rude awakening. .....not that it ever happened to me!

So we didn't leave our cherubs even though we were told over and over again that it was good for all of us. We just like to be together. And just like you don't need someone to tell you when you're hungry, you don't need someone to tell you when you need a break. You just know. And after 9 yrs on the job I was ready. Last week I had a DAY OFF!

I needed to get out of the house without kids and go do something with adults and enjoy uninterrupted conversation. I cried and begged and pleaded and bargained and blackmailed my way to the top of the list for "next in need of vacation to avoid nervous breakdown".

So on a Sunday afternoon, I called my Mother and told her I would be headed to McCall to visit her the following morning after coffee. I came back in the house and told my husband the plan and he said, after 5 minutes....

"Why don't you go up tonight?"

"Really?! Just leave? Just like that? I need to make some dinner for you guys--"

"I'll make the dinner."

Oh, my! The man of my dreams....and I was actually married to him! That made it easy. It took me all of 2 seconds to pack. No diaper bags, no extra water bottles, no 50 changes of clothes in case the baby pees her pants or the big girls roll down the dirt hill....just one bag....ONE! After deciding to make my husband a list of JUST how to do everything while I was gone and just how NOT to do things, and then changing my mind and deciding that even if they ate cereal and watched Scooby Doo for two days......they would survive, I climbed in the pick up and waved goodbye.

I rolled the windows down and let the cool wind blow all around the cab of the truck. I turned up the stereo too loud because I could. And I tried not to worry.

"Oh, yeah, I have to mail that stuff to the insurance company....the septic needs to be emptied....I hope he doesn't forget to check the mouse trap...."

Shut-up, Shoshannah! Who cares. It's less than two days. It will be okay.

So, needless to say it took a couple hours before I could calm down and relax. Mom and I went out to the McCall Brewing company and snuggled into a corner table with an appetizer and a glass of zin. It had been too long between times like these. To push that stress and guilt from my "mother mind" felt so good, once I got the hang of it. My job doesn't allow for stray thoughts very often with a 2 yr old always ready to walk off the edge or step in the water or try to use the kitchen knife or saying, "I gotta poo poo!" So to have that time at my disposal, to think what I wanted to think, and even more importantly say what I wanted to say without the worry that it would need explaining to my 9 yr old and spelling all of the bad words and making kids leave the table so they wouldn't learn how to gossip....aaahhh, sweet relief!

I layed down that night and thought to myself...

"I have not had one stressed out reprimand come out of my mouth in like 8 hrs. I am a fun person...not just a "no no" fountain. I am SO going to enjoy this!!"

And I did. We watched a movie. I helped Mama put up a new display of her beautiful paintings in the Gallery 55. We went shopping for groceries and laughed in the aisles like little kids. We made a spring green salad with smoked salmon and bought fresh salsa and chips at Chipalas. We celebrated my brother's 24th birthday and stayed up WAY to late. Little brother and I bonded with shuffle board and PBR. We sang at the top of our lungs to Queen and CCR and laughed at stupid jokes and old memories. We snuck around the house the way we used to 20 yrs ago when we were sneaking chocolate chips late at night. It was like being 20 again.

When it was time to get in the truck and make my journey back up the road toward Riggins I was very satisfied....and a bit hungover. I stopped and got an Americano with cream at the drive through espresso shop and relished my folk music and the beautiful spring day. That 2 days was like 2 wks.

I pulled into the driveway and you should've seen my greeting! Oh, man, I was royalty!! Daddy and the girls flung the door open and greeted me with gusto. I MISSED them. I love being needed and loved on and I love long stories with stutter words. I love my loud laughing girls in their beds in the morning and eventually making their way to our room with giggles. I love making dinners and cleaning up and I love turning on music and watching them dance. I love family get togethers where we all laugh and tease each other and where we play games and comment on the weather and take turns holding the fussy baby. I love to get away and to realize who Shoshannah is by herself. I love to dig down deep and find new enthusiasm for ways to express myself. And I love who I am to them....the Mommy, the safe place, the kiss for owies, the kitchen boss and the story teller.

It is like one of my Mama's paintings, the ones with all the colors. You see the picture....you think you know what it is. Then as you look closer you see each brush stroke and all of the colors within the colors and you realize that it takes alot to make up the vision. You can feel what it is through all of those movements and textures and it makes you want to laugh and cry.

We are all made up of each other and of ourselves. We are all alike and different and needy and independent and fragile. We are strong and full of life and we are weak and need built up to face the storms. We are a people that need to be reminded what it was like when we were free and young so that we can appreciate being servants and aging into a beauty we never knew was going to be as awesome as it is....and OH IT IS!

Oh, and P.S. When I got back the 2 yr old's finger and toes were painted! Yay, for a sweet wonderful Daddy that does spelling tests and makes good meals and reads while Mommy is away!!

Mean Mommy Syndrome

Loud is different than mean. But, being loud is kinda mean sometimes. Yes, I was having a mild anxiety attack. Maybe she had picked up on that? She was innocently sitting on the toilet. The perfect 2 yr old with her simple mind. I hollered out the door some instruction-rule-reprimand to the other members of my tribe, and she looked up sharply, "You mean, Mama?"

Who me? Your sweet Mother that cleans your messes, makes your meals, holds you and sings to you, wipes your fat spaghetti covered cheeks (and the other cheeks)...NO, I am NOT mean! But....I had been annoyed, under gunned, out numbered, hormonal, and depleted of patience before noon. In some cultures that could probably be considered "mean".

Some days it's SO easy to be nice. I WANT to stop doing dishes to run and kiss her little knee when she trips. I want to read that Curious George book for the 100th time. I want to patiently listen while she tells me all of her little secrets. But, that week...the week my 2 yr old dubbed me as MEAN....I didn't want to do any of the things I was supposed to do. I don't particularly like myself on those days. The kids are looking at me like a boiling kettle that's gonna start screaming at any second. The school gets done at a frantic pace and they are looking for the door! Everyone has bad days. But, for some reason, when MAMA has a bad day...watch out!

It's because I am the support beam for this unit. I am made just perfectly to fit under my house of Hollons, and never let them drop. I know this. It all rides on Mama's mood. But, instead of an intricate part of construction, some days.... some rare-windy-snowy-wet-live-in-a- camper-with-three-kids days....I feel a little more like that brown rug that lays by the front door. I catch most of the dirt before it becomes part of my floor. I need shaken and beat out just to look like I'm doing my job. I am the mess protector. And, no I'm not complaining. It's simply true that to be great you have to be small. And to be small you have to realize you are great. I'm doin' a GREAT job.....that's my mantra that goes through my head on a reel.

If I could turn back time I would not change ONE thing in my life. Not one. I used to have a list of things I would change. But, you know what? It's all part of this beautiful mud rug that makes me and I'm keeping it all. I have always been where I am supposed to be. If it wasn't a success I learned that I didn't want to do that again. And maybe I would do it again, anyways. Life is short and we are people that are in need of change, challenge, and excitement.

I LOVE my job. The beam and carpet thing. Love it. I cannot blame my bad mood on my three kids. They are still doing what they've always done. It just happened to be getting on my nerves more during Mean Week. They laugh, run, spill, draw, cry, fight, eat, spill, potty, create, sing, talk, love, read, play, and sleep. They are imperfectly perfect.
























I cannot blame my bad mood on my Man. I know I'm the lucky one. He is trustworthy, honest, and fun. I look in his eyes and see that 18 yr old that drove too fast and smoked Camels, two at a time, and I know that we are meant to be together through the rain and the shine. No, it was not my sweetheart's fault that I was in the funk.

When the wave of blah hits and I feel like I will literally explode if another thing goes 1/2 inch off my controlled little train track of life then I really only have one person to blame. Yes, it's me. Wow, it sure feels good to admit that. There is something nagging at the back of my mind when the mad Shoshee rears her head. It could be lack of outside time. Overindulgence in the bacon products and needing a cleanse. It could be rest. But, somewhere in my subconscious I know what I need to do. It's just a matter of DOING it. Making the change and standing strong.

So, to ease the pressure of being everything to everybody I took a trip to the Main Street Hair Salon. I know, I'm not a salon kinda girl...but somewhere inside of every woman is a princess waiting to be pampered. I suppose I should have gotten a massage or a hot oil treatment or a trim...but I went for the waxing of the facial hair. It kinda fit with the week I was having. No kids. No questions. Just me and the warm wax and laughs with those fun ladies that make all of Riggins beautiful. Aaaaah, what a treat.

It's not politically correct, AT ALL, to write about your bad week WHILE you are in it. It's okay afterwards because you can laugh about it. When you are IN it, nothing comes to mind but the negative without the kiss of witty sarcasm. It's just plain "whining" and that's all there is to it. So, as the Mean Week moves further back in time and as the 2 yr old has decided I must be nice and isn't asking if "You mean?" 5 times a day, then it must be okay to write about it and laugh.

If I just take some independent moments to realize who I am, not who I was or who I want to be....but who I AM, then I can see where I need to be headed. I am the me that I am supposed to be. Only the drive within can push me to greater heights. I awake in the wee hours thinking of all of the things that I want to do. All of the songs I long to play on the guitar, all of the books that I want to write, all of the new things I want to teach the girls...all of it just courses through me. Then I turn back into the butterfly I am instead of wallowing on the ground, a fat old caterpillar.

Home Sweet Home

Home is where your people are. Home is the place you feel most comfortable. People say, "There's no place like home," but that's not true. There are a million places like home....they are just "home" to other people. The older you get the more "homes" you have. I am comfortable here in the Salmon River Canyon. There is an ongoing relationship that I have with everyone and everything here. I may not even know it exists until I REALLY think about it. After living somewhere long enough, you will eventually have a story about everybody. Maybe just a little story, but a story just the same. Especially when that town has less than 500 people living in it.

I moved to Riggins, from Alaska, 17 years ago. My family had formerly lived in New Meadows, but on my return, my Dad had remarried and moved to Pinehurst. Man did it suck! I did NOT want to be here. The mountains were too tall. The girls dressed too preppy. The school was too big. (Yes, big! I came from a class of 7 and a basketball team of 6.) All of the faces were unfamiliar. It just wasn't MY town...yet.

I met kids that were nice. I met kids that were rude. I made people laugh. I fought with the teacher that made fun of my pants. I skipped school and jumped in the River and smoked cigarettes for the first time. I got good grades and kissed boys...not too many! I drank soda pop and made 3 pointers. I learned to ride the bus in style.

Pretty soon the mountains were like my Mama's hug and the River was like my sister. And, I found a best girlfriend that didn't have to wear make up all the time. Her mom had a van with a stereo that worked some of the time. We put on old army jackets and found our niche as the little hippie chicks. We drove out to Time Zone Bridge and talked about deep and trippy things. I started spending all the time I could up the Salmon River and learned how to drink cheap beer with the best of them....and the worst. I bought a vw van and learned how to play the guitar. I got a job at a fire lookout on the Clearwater and learned to be alone. I got a little puppy dog. It died. I got another one.

I met my husband in the boy I knew from school and we made each other laugh...and cry. We bought llamas and hiked around finding antlers. We camped and scoured the beaches for old rocks. We bought Oly stubbies in the box for $4. We hunted for deer and ate breakfast burritos. We hung out with Grampa and Gramma and fed their chickens. We bought a bus, with history, and parked it on the River. We decorated it with plants and pictures and played house. I sewed pillows for my dog.

We got married on our beautiful Salmon River. A grand shindig with a roast pig and family and music and swimming and sun. We had our first baby on that same River. It's been 9 years ago, this week. I was so young. We had no idea what to expect. I read 15 books on breathing and eating right and massage and nursing. It didn't prepare me for what I had to do. Nothing can teach you to labor, like labor. My sister came to stay with us. We played Skip-bo and cooked sausages and ate fish tacos and laughed a lot. She rubbed my feet. Travis paced nervously and mopped the floor. He "caught" the baby...little Hannah Hollon! She was perfect and she looked just like her Daddy!

We moved the bus to a road job in Council for awhile. We saved up $7,000 in a diaper box under the fridge for our dream property. I washed cloth diapers in a bucket and played with my baby in the shade by the creek. We met friends that are now like family. We went to their house and ate good food and stayed up late. Then we went back to Riggins and we bought 2 acres on Shingle Creek. We built a cabin. We planted trees and made mud pies and had campfires and told stories. We hung a swing up for the 2 yr old and taught her to count.

We had another baby! I was experienced enough to be scared of what was coming that time. I knew how hard it was going to be. I also knew how wonderful it was. Travis cooked pork chops, fed the midwives, and I paced and drank Raspberry Leaf tea. Beautiful Charlee Beth was born! She looked just like my side of the family! We had now doubled our numbers.

We got chickens. We got goats. We got cats and more dogs. We cut firewood. Travis traveled away to jobs and I stayed and counted days until he came home. I started homeschooling the girls. I went to the beach with my girlfriends and their kids. We taught them to swim and cussed the rafts that pulled up on "our" beach. We went to the library. We went to the store. Travis built a rental house in town. We built a health food store in town. We sold organic veggies and creamer. We sold our cabin. We rented for the first time in our lives and lived in North Riggins! We taught the girls to ride bikes and circled the neighborhood, visiting with anyone who happened to be out in their yard.

We had another baby! This time I wasn't scared. I was brave. I broke records, I'm sure. Tenesee Rose was added to the clan. We figured out we were very good at making pretty girls! The big sisters were so excited. Grammas and Grampas and Aunts and Uncles and friends and neighbors came to hold the new Hollon. We hosted Christmas in that house. We were all grown up.

This canyon holds all of that for me. And we are making more memories every day. The kids have best friends and they ride horses and they help us find mushrooms in the spring. We go out to Ruby Rapids and look for garnets. We go and lay in the sun while the kids chase the dog. We go in the bank and eat suckers. We go to basketball games and yell and chase kids. We stay up too late singing by the campfire...and forgetting most of the words. We chase the neighborhood goat!

It's day in and day out and it's all of these little things we do, when we think we are doing nothing, that make up just who we are. Time builds love and bonds that will last a lifetime. So, even when we leave we take the Salmon River and all of you with us. We load up our camper and head out for new adventures. We reunite with family we haven't seen for years. We see the coast. We walk new Main Streets and look in their little shops. We get jobs in new towns and make new friends. And, all the while we talk about home and what we will do when we get back. The kids make maps and plans for new forts and games they will play with their buddies at home. Leaving is somehow always about getting back.

So, I guess we are getting old. I guess we will never look better than we do today! I know that somehow, it will all make sense at the end of the road. I won't sit around and feel like I missed it all. I will relish in all of these things that make up who I am, who we are. Because we are living it up! We aren't wasting a minute! I see these certain strong and bold people around me. They let their hair go gray. They get a little thick around the middle. They laugh and hold their grand babies and tell stories over coffee. They are beautiful! I want to be like that.

I used to wonder how I would handle teething and the first day of school and temper tantrums and lies and talks about sex. I see now that you are just prepared when it comes. Somehow you are unfolding to this readiness of each stage of life. So I won't be scared when I roll out of bed and take a minute to straighten up and have to pop my left shoulder so it'll get moving again. And I won't run away from my 40th birthday party. I will enjoy each and every stage with all that is in me. Because, that's the good stuff!~