Turnbull National Wildlife Refuge is 18,217 acres of basalt outcrops, pine forests, marshes, wetlands and lakes. Geologically speaking, the area was created tens of thousands of years ago through volcanoes, glaciers, and massive flooding. The refuge was established in 1937 by an Executive Order of President Franklin D. Roosevelt. It is home to 200 bird species of birds, 45 mammal species, 12 reptile and amphibian species, 51 butterfly species, and uncounted  invertebrates species. And it is awesome.

My first visit to Turnbull was a reward for getting a blue ribbon in the science fair way back in the sixth grade. All the winners got skip a day of school, and spend it at the refuge peering into microscopes and harassing the park ranger with millions of questions. I’ve thought about Turnbull tons of times since then, but hadn’t made the trip out there yet. I’d even put it on my list of places for this Spokane Kids series and when my friend Brenda said she thought it would be a good place to highlight too, I decided that after 18 years it was FINALLY time to go back. The boys and I visited one month ago with some friends, and the photos have been burning a hole in my hard drive ever since.

18 years is a long time. I remember marshes, dirt roads, and long boardwalks. Those are still there, but now there are paved paths perfect for strollers and wheelchairs. There’s even a visitor’s center, which we skipped because with two 4-year-olds and  two 2-year-olds in tow there was more than enough things outside to keep them happy…

Like bugs for example. Swallows were swooping, ducklings were taking their first swims, birds were performing mating dances, and the kids were mesmerized watching two ants walk across the pavement. Because why wouldn’t they?

They were also very entertained by playing with long pieces of grass and pointing out all the different poops they saw. Luckily, us moms have spent many a day in the woods, so we were happy to identify which animal each “sample” came from, but they didn’t care. Poop is poop — it’s super gross and endlessly fun to point at. Or so it seems.

There is little shade on many of the paths at Turnbull, so I was glad to have been there when the weather was so nice.

They day we visited was the first with blue skies after almost two weeks of rain and gray so just getting out of the house felt like a triumph! Getting to stretch our legs, blow off the stink, and wonder at the beauty of Turnbull was heavenly. We saw numerous species of birds, one frog, a dead mouse, a couple deer, and our way out of the refuge one lone coyote. I still can’t believe I went 18 years between visits. With the boys to entertain, Brian to share this with, and my own wanderlust to satiate, I know I’ll be returning very soon.

Location: Turnbull National Wildlife Refuge, about 11 minutes south of Cheney, WA, 11. From downtown Spokane, hop on I-90 head east, and in just over 30 minutes you’ll be there!

When: Turnbull is open year round during daylight hours. It’s interesting all year, but prefer to visit during the spring and fall months, as due to migration patterns, birds are most active at those times. If you’re headed there in the summer, try to go earlier or later in the day. Mid-day is especially hot, so most wildlife will be taking cover and will be hard to spot.

Price:  $3 per vehicle. There is an unmanned fee station near the entrance to the refuge, so you have to pay cash. And bring exact change, or you’ll end up donating a little extra like me ;)

Age Range: Any! The trails are generally flat and some are even wheelchair accessible. You can take Grandma! (As long as she doesn’t mind using an outhouse.)

Danger Factor: Medium-low. The biggest dangers here are unobstructed access to waterbodies and wildlife like snakes, moose, mosquitoes, coyotes, snapping turtles, and the very occasional cougar. Just make lots of noise, keep the little ones close by, and have fun.

Before you go: Pack water and a picnic because there are so many different paths to hike, you’re bound to spend more time out there than you planned. There is very little shade and plenty of bugs, so think about wearing sunscreen and bug spray.

While you’re there: Count how many different types of animals you see. Try mimicking the many different bird sounds you’ll hear. Sit quietly in one of the hunting/photography blinds and marvel at what nature does when it thinks you’re not there.

After you go: Tell people about Turnbull! I’m still amazed that many Spokanites have never heard of the refuge, let alone ever visited. I shouldn’t judge since I went so long between visits, but still. We are so lucky to have Turnbull at our fingertips and its a hidden gem! Once they’ve visited, your friends will thank you for letting them in on the secret!

Is Turnbull a favorite of yours too or is this the first you’d heard of it? Does the thought of snakes, snapping turtles, and cougars make you want to stay away? Because they really, really shouldn’t!

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Way back at the end of March I took this photo of a late napping Grrr. Little did I know he’d wake up the next morning, climb out of his crib for the first time, and come running into our room yelling, “I did it! I did it!” We hoped it’d be a fluke, but once he figured it out, that crib was just another fun thing to climb on.

 

We did a bit of furniture shuffling, and just like that Grrr moved from a crib to a full sized bed. When he fell asleep without a peep on our very first try (pictured above), I was elated. He rotates between the big bed and his old crib mattress that I put down in a little alcove in his room. It’s been two months now, and putting him to bed is almost the easiest thing in the world. Only about once a week do we have to remind him to go back to bed because it’s ni-night time. Don’t get jealous quite yet — I haven’t told you about the mornings yet.

When he was in the crib, Grrr would usually sleep until 7:30 or 8 or whenever Little M went in to wake him up. Once he was free to get up the second he awoke, our “little alarm clock” started going off between 5:00 and 6:00 am. Some mornings he crawls into bed with us and goes back to sleep for an hour or so. Other times he just wants to jump on us.

His favorite thing for a time, was to sneak downstairs and explore the house. When he started grabbing the keys out of my purse and going into the garage to rearrange pop cans, I had to start hiding my purse and install a chain-lock he couldn’t reach. When he started pushing a stool over to the counter to get up in the cupboards and make himself breakfast, I had to install baby proof latches on all the upper cabinets and make sure to clear the counters every night before we went to bed. A couple weeks ago we awoke to the sound of him yelling “I did it mydelf!!!” from outside our bedroom window. He had managed to unlock and open our very heavy wooden sliding glass door and was thrilled at being outside at 5 am.

After the scolding he received on that one and the installation of yet ANOTHER piece of baby proofing that we never needed with Little M, Grrr’s explorations have abated. He’s still up super early, but is generally happy to snuggle/wrestle/harass us until one of us is able to open our eyes properly and get out of bed.

We were lucky to have late sleepers for as long as we did — I’m just trying to be thankful for what we had. And I’m trying to take this as a sign that I shouldn’t stay up so late working and finally get my night owl ways under control. Nothing makes me want to get a good night’s rest more than knowing I’m going to be awakened at 5:30 am by an exuberant two year old who just wants to cover me in kisses and kick his dad in the face. Because love-kicks cause daddies to make the funniest sounds. Being a parent is just grand.

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In anticipation of our sixth anniversary, Brian and I took the boys on a meandering day trip. We saw waterfalls, lakes, rivers, mountains, and marshes. We hiked, ran, slid, merry-go-rounded, and rode a swing or two. We ate food in three different cities and covered over 150 miles. In the words of Little M: “We did all the things.”

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At some point along the drive I remembered that I had been pregnant on our first anniversary. It was also mere days before we were to have the fifth anniversary of our first date, so we celebrated both occasions with “The Big” ultrasound and found out we were expecting a boy. As much as I’d already loved my baby, it was then that I really started imagining the shape our lives might take. It was then that I started thinking of Brian and I as parents.

It boogles my mind to think that we’ve now been parents together longer than we were childless. That’s a milestone that some couples meet sooner than others, and one that some never meet. Having kids is the most difficult, wonderful, terrifying, and thrilling thing.

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As the boys get older we’re able to adventure longer, further, and farther. We dream of backpacking, kayaking, long bicycle rides, and steep hikes. That’ll come, but for now we take baby steps.

We practice peeing in the woods. We practice packing the essentials like sunscreen, extra diapers, first aid kit, and snacks. We practice crossing the road after looking both ways. We practice leaving a safe distance between ourselves and wildlife. We practice staying close and holding hands. And we practice forgiving each other for forgetting the rules. Because sometimes four year olds get excited and don’t remember to leave wildflowers so others can enjoy them later. And sometimes mommies and daddies get distracted by the scent of fresh air and the sound of songbirds in the trees and don’t notice their son’s walking stick is covered in one-inch spikes until they’re saying goodbye to it in the parking lot.

We are all learning. We are all forgetful. We are all in need of a little forgiveness. And we are all grateful nobody thought to play swords with their brother, because I think we all know who would have finally won a round. It would not have been pretty.

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Six years of marriage.

Two homes. Two children. One dog. Millions upon millions of laughs. Countless kisses.

Hugs and tears and cuddles and smiles and fights and hikes and tickles.

I’m so happy with the blue-eyed man I married. He takes me on happy little hikes to celebrate important days.  And then is just as happy to listen to my squeals of disgust at being covered in ticks. A lesser man would have run for the hills by now.

I picked a good one.

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I had a photoshoot scheduled yesterday afternoon, but the client never showed. I found myself driving home, camera sitting in the seat next to me, and decided that the work waiting on my computer could wait. Spokane’s most beautiful park was on my way and my friend Lanette lives enviably close to it. One phone call and five minutes later, Lanette and I were walking the park, soaking up the sun, breathing in the fresh air, and feasting on the bounty of eye candy.

The weather this week has felt like a reward for sticking it out through winter. Temperatures in the 80s. Blue skies. The air scented sweet by the flowering trees. Color bursting forth from the ground. Spring didn’t arrive — it exploded. And it is oh so lovely.

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I know.

They were both super shaggy.

They look way older older.

I can’t even.

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You wouldn’t know it to look at these photos, but Little M hated having his hair cut and Grrr thought it was pretty much the coolest thing ever.

I’d been putting off their hair cuts for a while, because I’m lazy and I like the boys with their hair a little longer. But it was finally getting way too ridiculous, so I told them we were doing hair cuts and then we’d get frozen yogurt to celebrate.

It started out ok, with a tiny fight over who got to go first. Little M won and then it all went downhill. He screamed and yelled and squirmed so bad that I had to abandon my attempts at any sort of style and do a plain old buzz cut. He was so loud, Brian was starting to get worried about the neighbors (not an unreasonable concern).

It was so awful that Little M will be getting a mini-haircut once a week (with a frozen yogurt or ice cream reward if he’s good) until I’m convinced he thinks haircuts are the coolest or the most boring thing in the world. Because right now, he thinks they’re basically battles to convince Mommy not to cut his ears off and nothing I say or do can convince him otherwise. \\\insert deep sigh here\\\

After Grrr watched Little M’s torture session haircut go down, I was sure he’d be less than pleased that it was his turn next. Instead he was balls to the wall excited. He jumped up in the chair before I was done cleaning all the hair off. He sat completely still and didn’t utter a peep, until it was all to much and he reached for the clippers with an “I do it?” I let him hold on as I buzzed along and handed him a comb to “help” with when it came time to break out the scissors. We were done in five minutes tops.

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When we were anticipating Grrr’s arrival, I never really thought about how different my two boys might be. I mean, I have sisters, so I know siblings aren’t clones. It’s just that I’d been given a taste of what being a parent to a baby boy was like and took it for granted that it meant I was prepared for another. Nope.

Day one — even hour one — Grrr showed us that we might have had some of the basics down, but we still had lots to learn because he was a totally different creature. He came with his own personality, habits, proclivities, interests, fears, and needs.

It’s all because parenting isn’t boring or easy or predictable. And I’m ok with that.

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Just a peek at a family session I did over the weekend.

You’d never know it to look at these photos, but the temps were in the mid 40s. There were no complaints, even from little Miss Teagan. Her teeth rattled, but she just kept on smiling and giggling. All she really wanted was her cheerful family to cuddle her and fresh spring flowers to pick. She’s a very lucky little girl.

Even with the cold, the whole family put up with my requests to hike in dress shoes and sit on soggy moss without a moment’s hesitation. So, I guess we know where Miss Teagan gets her happy nature. I drove home so thankful for loving families and rain clouds that just blow right over.

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