Tea for Two:: Sadie and Mama in Victoria, BC

Well, it’s October 10th, people. And while most of you are out there busting out your rain boots and sipping on some pumpkin spice, I am feeling the blogger guilt of procrastination on epic adventure documenting. To break it down for you, its just another case of first kid, second kid syndrome: while Haden (my first) had his special mom/kid trip blogged within a week of arriving home, of course the second kid gets a bit of the shaft once again- and here we are, 6 weeks after my adventure with my little Sadie lady.

The great news is, the passage of 6 weeks time has yet to diminish most of the precious memories created on our very first mommy/daughter trip to Victoria, BC. I hoard special moments any way I can manage- the typical photos and video clips of course, but also in the way I repeat in my head at night the little moments- the way her nose scrunches up when she giggles or the way she prances- not walks- every place she goes. Needless to say, I am all set still to sum up the adorable mini vaca that was just me and my girl.

We arrived in Port Townsend early, it was a 1:30 ferry which meant we would have to kill a few hours, I mean, what’s a girl to do? Lunch and shop, of course, in case you wondered. We split a fresh pineapple juice and sandwhich at the local café and perused a local bookstore. I love the vast difference in taking my daughter versus my son to a store, in that their interests are so widely different. And having someone point out every unicorn they see with such excitement could make even the saddest person fill with joy (although I was far from the saddest person that day).

We boarded the ferry, off to a whole new country, or, for those of you that might not know…a small 1 hour jaunt across the Strait of Juan de Fuca. We’re talking a whole new world, peeps. Or so my girl thinks 🙂

Those first travel days seem to be mostly about the journey, which is, in itself, a somewhat unpredictable experience, as most of you travelers may know. But add a kid and you have a whole new element of uncertainty, hope, but perhaps the best part of it all: experiencing it through them. As we pulled in the harbor, Sadie pranced to the front of the deck and yelled to me “It’s pretty!”

After settling into our adorable Air Bnb Victoria’s inner harbor, we did what any other logical parent and kid team would do on their first day of vacation: we ate ice cream for dinner. Sitting at the table, Sadie was turned away from me. I said “Sadie, don’t you want to look at me while you eat your ice cream?” She said “No mom, I want to look at these beautiful flowers!” I turned to see a line of decadent and elaborate row of hanging flowers. She said “Mom, can we come here every summer?” and since we were only about 1 hour into our Victoria journey, I considered that a good sign.

The next day was filled with all the adventure: hot coco, the butterfly garden, bus rides and pierogi tastings. Sadie noticed and sniffed every flower she could get her little hands on. More ice cream (naturally) and an early bed time in result of pure exploration exhaustion.

The most highly anticipated part of our trip was the last day, our afternoon tea, or, tea party, as Sadie liked to refer to it. We got up and started our beauty routine right away-showers and hair curling, but most importantly lipstick (or “lickstick” as Sadie refers to it). She is no stranger to my make up drawer, so putting on a few layers of bright red lipstick is easier to her than tying her shoes (Ok she doesn’t actually tie her shoes yet).

Once we were decked out like the queen and princess we are, we headed down to the Venus Sophia tea room near our Air Bnb in china town. Sadie spotted a pink umbrella with glittery details and asked for that to be her one special souvenir. I thought it went perfectly with her princess dress and hat, so I happily agreed.

We sat together, drank our tea and ate our treats from tiered china (I wish I knew the proper tea room name!) Sadie tried a bite of all her tasty treats, but was particulary committed to the chocolate strawberries (no surprise there!). Once finished, she pranced in her princess dress with her pink sparkly umbrella through the entire of downtown Victoria and danced like no was watching (trust me, they were! Who wouldnt want to watch that cuteness?). When the border patrol agent told her he didn’t think her mesh umbrella would be to good in the rain, she wrinkled her nose and said “It’s not for the rain!” as if that was the most absurd thing anyone has ever said to her! It’s for pure fashion purposes, obviously, sir!

What a special first “solo” trip this was with my girl. The word ‘precious’ does not even come quite close to what her little heart does for my world, but, I find it almost impossible to describe. She is positivity, compassion, and uninhibited joy. My time with her is better than I can ever put into words.





Why I Let the Kids See Me Cry: Redefining My Definition of Strength

What does it mean to be absolutely and unstintingly vulnerable? Are we born with the desire to be so open or does it grow as time goes on? I ask this because, to be quite frank, I don’t know what it’s like for others. For me, it’s how I’ve always been: to know Nicole is to know all of me, there’s little I don’t leave on the table to know for those that have entered my life.

I’ve always struggled with how open to be  in my writing, as we know the internet can be a beast of its own. And yet, it is at most vulnerable moments that I feel my words express themselves so clearly. There are definitely those who feel uncomfortable with raw and emotional confessions and true vulnerability. Often those people even choose to prey upon someone’s vulnerable thoughts and feelings that are shared and the internet becomes a whole new platform at which those that choose to prey can hide behind. They use others open position to their own advantage, belittling them for their openness or taking advantage of what they’ve shared to benefit themselves somehow.

We take this risk when we choose to be vulnerable. We learn very quickly who is safe to be our authentic selves around (and maybe sometimes it’s takes multiple bouts of mistrust to learn for certain who is safe and who is not) but nevertheless, I choose to continue to express my vulnerability because I know it is my healthiest and most rewarding state of being. I know it not only benefits myself, but those around me who are willing to be self reflective and grow. And so I continue to push forward through the other moments of realization of mistrust and pain of some, because I recognize the blessing of vulnerability from myself and others I have learned to trust.

Vulnerability has often been seen as a sign of weakness, and I’ve always been told to be “strong”- but what does that look like, as a woman, as a mother? Does it mean I shield my children from seeing my raw emotions? Does it mean when I feel the well of sorrow or the agony of turmoil arise, I just hide it behind a smile so they won’t know?

A few weeks ago, I broke down in tears over life “stuff”-the content of which is unimportant, and yet what resulted were simply thoughts about what I was letting my children see in me. My mind raced to the place of the advice I had been given many times before “Be strong. Hold yourself together. Don’t let them see your pain.” But something about that felt so off….It felt wrong to shield them from seeing their mother like that. Of course I didn’t want to worry their little hearts about the stuff of adulthood- but the thought that struck me the most was this: can empathy exist without context? I realized in that moment: of course it can. And my children have taught me that.

“Is your brain telling you you’re sad, mom?”

“It is buddy. It’s feeling sad and overwhelmed. I think I just need to write and think. Maybe have some alone time.”

We had been studying the brain and how it affects our emotions, and Haden was applying what he had learned. We talked about coping mechanisms to when we feel overwhelmed- I had shared with him earlier that day that writing helps me and he said he feels better when he plays with his stuffed animals. Little did I know, I was learning right alongside him.

He ran from the room and brought me back two teddy bears and a note “I love you, mom!”

What will my kids think as they continue to experience those hard feelings themselves-that they are alone or wrong in expressing them? That they must hide them like I thought I should?

How do I deal with my big emotions? What are the tools that I use? What will they see me doing when I experience those feelings? They might see me writing, or taking a hot shower, or cleaning…they might hear me ask to be alone. They might learn and understand what it’s like to comfort someone whose hurting- to lean into the pain instead of fleeing from it. They might grow up not feeling awkward or fearful to see someone cry. They might learn what it is to embrace someone without knowing the right words to say, and that silence can often be exactly what a person needs.

He snuggled up to me later that night and whispered to me, in his raspy 6 year old sleepy voice “Whenever you feel bad, I’m going to come make you feel better. Because you’ve spent all my life helping me and I want to help you too.”

And so, I made a promise to them.

I will be strong for you. But I’ll use my ever evolving definition- strength to me is vulnerability, its honesty, it’s authenticity. It’s choosing empathy and compassion and love. Strength resides where all these things meet, and you will see me striving daily to reside in that place.

Life is laundry 

Infinity symbols seem to be all the rage these days, tattoos, jewelry, art. I’m digging the symbol a whole bunch, it’s sweet to see the different meanings of it for various folks, things like unending love, relationships, faith.

I’m gunna be real with y’all for a second here though: the only thing I can really count on some days to be unending is the laundry pile. No joke, since summer has hit that thing has grown like a unnatural phenomenon and is taking up some serious real estate in our downstairs bonus room.
Yesterday I had a kid over who legit asked if there was a couch hiding underneath. I said yes, the couch at some point was functional as a sitting place. That purpose is no more.

But seriously, let’s be real, I’ve decided that giant laundry piles are just signs of having a really epic summer. I mean, come on, who wants to be stuck indoors folding bath towels when there is life to live in the sunshine?

And while we’re on the subject of laundry, I text my cousin the other day to inform her that people who fold their underwear scare me. She said I would always feel safe with her. You underwear folding folks, i try to empathize with others as much as I can and so, I need you to approach me with actual and legit facts about how those precious minutes of folding your underwear are more important than other tasks that you could be using those minutes for, like, for instance, anything else. I just don’t understand your kind but I am willing to hear you out.

I’ve come up with a concept for myself to justify never finishing my laundry pile. Hear me out on this one: Isn’t there, like, some kind of animal or insect that has a purpose or task and then as soon as they finish it they die? I tried googling it and could only find that octopuses die after childbirth. Not totally the direction I’m going here.

Anyway, maybe, just maybe, if I finish the laundry pile my purpose in life will be done and I will just keel over and die. I can’t take that chance, people. And that’s one of those things you just won’t know until you know, and then, well, it’s too late. You’ve gone and died.

So just in the very slight possibility my real purpose in life is to finish the laundry, I’m extending my life at slacking at it. It’s a real genius concept I think. And it makes me feel a heck of a lot better when I see that mountainous pile growing towards the ceiling. Self preservation, baby. ✌🏽

My Breakdancing Mad Scientist

It’s been a few hours so I feel like I’ve had enough time to process the events of this mornings shenanigans. I was getting ready for the day when Haden came upstairs 

“Hey mom, we can’t  eat breakfast at the table. We’ll have to find somewhere else” 
I was instantly concerned- this couldn’t be good. 
“Um why, Haden?” 

“Well, I was doing science. And there was an explosion. And so, it’s everywhere”

I ran down stairs and the smell was the first thing to hit me. I can’t even describe it. I have a very, very strong stomach- I can’t remember the last time I even vomitted and trust me, I’ve cleaned up some gross stuff as a mom. This one tested my stomach in a way I can’t even put to words. Lying on the table was an empty bottle of carpet shampoo, a jar of basalmic vinegar, an empty container of salt, a bottle of vegetable oil, and LOTS and LOTS of spices. The smell! I tried to hold myself together, I just kept saying “oh my gosh” and then this logical part of me which kept reminding me not to squash his little budding scientist spirit. He could tell I was upset (read: on the verge of puking and slightly horrified at the mess). He said “Are you mad, mom?! I’m sorry!” I said “No bud, I love that you are so curious and love science so much! But next time I need you to ask for assistance when you want to do science, ok?” 

Life with Haden never gets old, it is literally new every day. Every day brings a new and exciting project we must DO RIGHT NOW!!! His zealous for life is both overwhelming and rather inspiring. It’s a very confusing feeling as a mom :). I would say, whoever coined the term “spirited” child must have had a lens on the future of my parenthood. He is literally the most determined person I know, all wrapped up in a small little 6 year old body. 

His “calling” changes daily- from YouTube breakdancing star (yes, he specifically asks me to upload his dancing to YouTube “for the world to see”) to mad scientist, from performing in his rock star band on our “stage” (aka back porch), it’s a never ending series of exciting and thrilling stages of excitement around here. I love him and his ability to throw himself into ever part of life that peeks his interest. 

It’s exhausting sometimes, to be completely candid. His ideas are relentless, like, no exaggeration. Even last week he saw a 5 hour energy in wal mart and REALLY thought he needed it. He begged me for a solid 15 minutes until finally giving up on the idea. Ideas aren’t just something to give up, ok mom? I’ve been placed on this earth to remind you of that. (This is what I imagine he’s trying to tell me). 

I did a little post experiment interview with him, if you’d like to hear his personal thoughts:

Also, if you haven’t seen his most recent breakdancing performance, you can see the epic-ness here:

Haden, you inspire me to never give up. You inspire me to keep dreaming. You remind me that life is exciting and thrilling and should never be taken for granted. You are amazing, kid. ❤️

Ode to the Hot Mess Mom

I once dropped a chunk of deli turkey on my newborn babies cheek while eating a sandwich one handed and nursing. I just plucked it right off and ate it, and he kept on sleeping. 
When Haden was 6 weeks old, I did an event with my moms work where I sold some products of which will not be named. Looking back now, I was just desperate to do anything other than caring for a baby for a little while, so I gave the salesperson thing a stint. What I didn’t really remember was how incredibly exhausted I was and how incredibly overwhelming just simply caring for a newborn was. Halfway through the day, I ran to the restroom to change his diaper. When I emerged I saw my mom mingling with some co workers and walked over to chat. My mom stopped me and said “nicole, you have poop all over your arm”- sure enough, I had washed my hands but somehow missed my arm. 

Oh the joy I take in being a hot mess mom. Seriously guys, I used to be embarrassed. I used to live in fear that someone would see the coffee stain on my shirt or scoff at my messy bun. I used to worry that I’d lose friends if they showed up unannounced at my house and they saw the disaster that existed within it. 

But yeah, that got old pretty quickly. 

Now my kids are older. And today Haden, on his way to kindergarten, said to me “mom, what if my friends laugh at my big bag of cereal?” (He had packed himself his own snack- a halfway filled gallon size bag of cheerios). I said “yeah, well, they might. But, you can laugh too. Because, honestly it’s funny. And then you can just accept that it’s gunna get the job done: you likely won’t be hungry after that snack.”

Here’s the deal my hot mess friends: maybe it’s messy, maybe it’s a little amusing, and maybe people laugh. But by golly, we get this mom job done and we do it well. So give yourself some credit! 
So yeah, maybe I can’t drink from a normal coffee mug (please give me a lid and straw) and maybe my car looks like a dumpster, but my kids know that my spontaneity and ability to not really care for things to be perfect, means their mom is likely to not say no to a last minute adventure. They know that I’m not one to turn down an art project even if we forget to do the laundry first. They know that maybe even if my ducks aren’t in a row, were still loving our crazy, messy, beautiful life. 

The truly awesome thing about us hot mess moms, is that when we can embrace ourselves, we can teach our kids to do the same. We can teach them to find those people who love us for exactly who we are. 

Those are the people who value authenticity and honesty. Those are the people worth investing in. 

So here’s to you, my hot mess mom friends. Find what you do well, embrace the heck out of it, and laugh at the rest. Your heart will be happy and so will theirs. 

Camping is hard & why it matters 

It was 6am and I was fast asleep hovering just a few feet off the ground with the bed of our 1990 Coleman camper to support me, just a slab of sturdy plywood and frame and a thin layer of foam that I consider a camping luxury. I fell asleep that night before snuggled up with my 6 year old at my side, anticipating dad at some point to crawl in on my other side, once his fireside game with the other campers was complete. A sweet auntie snuggled my little girl across the way in the other bed, having a sleepover with us since she was back from college for the weekend. 

6:30 began to roll around, and I wake up to a soft voice saying “Mom, a little help please” and turn to see that Haden had actually physically fallen out of the camper. We apparently had forgotten to secure the straps underneath that keep the canvas and bed together, and Haden had rolled over in his sleep and fallen out of the crack. He’s usually quite the dramatic one, so wasn’t quite sure if he was still semi sleeping when he woke me up to ask for help to pull him out of the crack, where just his head was popping through. I sat up immediately and grabbed him up and tucked him under close to me, and his dad and I burst out laughing at the fact that we just almost lost a kid out the side of our camper, but mostly at his calm reaction to it all. 

Why do I love camping with my family so much? I’ve really stopped to consider this lately. Because, to be quite frank with you, camping, especially with children, is a heck of a lot of work. I often spend my days camping doing honestly the exact same things I’m doing at home: waking up, cooking, cleaning up, and then starting that process all over again. Just this past weekend, I spent a solid 45 minutes giving both my children sponge baths because they both had accidents- I strongly suspect it’s because they were too busy playing to stop to use the bathroom. 

I always tuck them into bed at night after a long day of playing at the campground,  covered in dirt, with remnants of sticky marshmallow goo on their fingers. They smell like campfire and mud, and I’m picking leaves and sticks out of their hair. 

It’s work, this camping thing. 

But as I’m rounding in on turning 30 within the year, I’m seeing more and more the exceptional experiences that come from hard work. They are richer and more vibrant. Their roots are deeper. And most of all, the result of hard work is almost always a particular stronger amount of appreciation for the moments that come afterward. 

In short, I’d choose the vibrant experiences and appreciation that derive from hard work any day. 

Because at the end of a long camping weekend, as I’m tossing our stained and dirty clothes into the dryer, unpacking the cooler, and rolling up the sleeping bags, I don’t remember how hard it all was. I remember the way I looked over from the campfire and saw my kids making forts in the dried up riverbed. Or the way Haden’s face lit up when he succeeded in making the perfect roasted marshmallow. Or the warmth of Sadie’s little body as we warmed up by the fire that evening. 

Lots of things in life are hard work. Hard work gives us perspective. And perspective is a beautiful way to appreciate our rich and wonderful life. 

Gloria+Tonya::Mama+Kid Travel Adventures::New York City 

I am so excited to share my first post in my series about Mama+Kid Travel Adventures! If you’d like to read more about the heart behind this project, you can read that here. 

Tonya from Detail Orientated Traveler first wrote to me saying

“When I did these trips with my kiddos, I really wasn’t thinking of it as solo adventure with kids. Just, here’s a trip, let’s go! I think this will be an inspiring piece, can’t wait to see it!” 

I totally love that she said this. I think it’s going to be so fun to recognize and get inspired by these travel stories of moms and kids!

Read on to hear about 11 year old Gloria and her Mama Tonya’s trip to New York:

“My name is Tonya Denmark, and my daughter Gloria is 11 years old. She and I are performers at heart and share a love of the stage. She’s a book nerd and loves to read non-stop, which I love about her. She’s at the perfect age to discuss bigger ideas (but not too big) and still have a need for her mom. We are very close.

Where did you travel and for how long? 

We traveled to Connecticut, Rhode Island and New York City for a little over a week.

What prompted your adventure? 

Gloria had a choir competition in Rhode Island, so we extended our trip on either side with a visit to family in Connecticut and NYC to hit Broadway.

What was your most special memory on your trip?

Wandering through Central Park, with no real plans for the day other than to see as much as week could. Just stopping wherever and taking pictures, getting a bit lost, and enjoying the fall colors. We don’t get to slow down much in our busy lives and this was a nice way to have no plans for the day. As we live in the south, we also don’t get to see leaves change and she enjoyed the difference in climate.

What did you find challenging about traveling with your kid(s)? 

It’s challenging to be the only adult, and the only set of eyes on her and her safety. Especially in a big city where we don’t know the area, it’s not always easy to take a moment to figure things out geographically with eyes on a map/phone and not on the child. 

Why is traveling with kids important to you? 

Showing my children different cultures, different experiences is important. However, spending quality one on one or one on two time is just as important. When we get away from our daily busy lives we get to focus on our child(ren) and what they see, learn and experience.

Do you have any other mama/kid adventures planned? 

My son, age 13, and I are planning a trip to Boston. I also plan to road trip with both my kids next summer.
Thanks so much for sharing Tonya! If you’d like to read more about Tonya’s adventures and some amazing tips on travel, check her blog out at Detail Orientated Traveler! I’d love to have a follow up on your time with your son to Boston, Tonya!

If you are interested in being featured for a solo Mama+Kid adventure you’ve taken, please email me at letsgolovely@gmail.com!

Looking for Adventurous Travel Mamas! 

Over the past week, I’ve been looking for mamas to interview and feature who have traveled solo with their kids or kiddos. I wanted to share a little bit of my heart and reason behind this specific feature I’d like to start on the blog. 

Kellen and I (the hubby) have been married for almost ten years now, and we’ve done a lot of growing and learning over those ten years. He’s known from the very start what he was getting into: he married a slightly crazy, wanderlust obsessed wannabe world traveler. In fact, he spent a good portion of two months when I had just turned 18 on long distance phone calls with me while I was exploring Austria trying to convince me to marry him :). Ok, it didn’t take much convincing- the fact is, I was head over heels for the guy and he knew it. We got married just over a year later and then one year after that we ventured to do a backpack trip through Europe.

He’s always supported my dreams of travel and adventure the best he could, usually depending on our slim newlywed budget. As we’ve gotten older, he’s continued to be down for more camping and international travel when time and money allowed.

However, ask kellen today what he’d do if someone handed him 100k? You’d be surprised to know our answers are very different: mine, of course, would be to see as much of the world as money would last me. His? Well, probably a really nice fishing boat 🙂

What I love best about Kellen and I is that we’ve managed to figure out a way to allow us to each support and cultivate our individual dreams. Sometimes it comes in the form of one of us choosing to do something we wouldn’t necessarily choose ourselves, and other times it’s encouraging the other person to get away by themselves to do what brings them joy. 

It’s taken a while to get to this place, and trust me, we’ve had our share of bumps and hiccups along the way. We aren’t perfect, but what we do share is a mutual understanding and desire to see our partner genuinely happy. And I am very, very thankful for that. 

With that being said, I can recognize that my travels will not *always* be with kellen by my side. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, right? And just as much, it makes those adventures he chooses to join in on that much sweeter. It’s a win-win, in my book. 

So where does that leave me? Well, luckily we brought two super awesome mini-me’s into the world that we both get the chance enjoy our hobbies and passions with! Kellen dreams of watching his kids reel in a fish or help him fix up his old 1950’s rat rod. I dream of all the places I will take them. 

So motherhood then creates in me a brand new layer of dreams, one where I get to share that sense of adventure with them. 

Haden and I embarked on our first solo mama-son trip this past february to the nearby city of Vancouver. It was both challenging and exciting traveling alone with a 5 year old. It brought moments of growth for both of us (especially me) and allowed us special time together that I wouldn’t change for any other moment in time. It was, to put it simply, the perfect first adventure. 

So you can see now my heart behind why I’m hoping to find other like minded mamas with a desire to travel with their kids. These kind of moms inspire and motivate me to dream big dreams that includes their little ones. Because giving a kid that piece of time, that sense of wonder, and those kind of experiences are, in my opinion, likely the best kind of gift a mother could give. 
If you yourself or you know of a mama who you’ve seen take a special trip or adventure with their kids, please send them my way! I’d love to talk with them about their experiences and share with my other readers the inspiration they bring! Email me at letsgolovely@gmail.com 

Seriously though, where can I find a turtle shell? 

Legit thoughts in motherhood this past week: 
I imagine turtles were once lizards that were just moms who decided they needed to protect their vital organs because their children bounced on them all of the time. I often feel I need a shell. Curling into a fetal position is my only attempt at protecting my vital organs. It is becoming ever apparent that my kids want to squash my kidneys or something. They are like flying squirrels who seem to think I am the fluffiest landing pad they can see (ok, I see their reasoning now.)

Me, saying goodbye to a fully functional organ: 

Serious question though: how bad of a parent would I be if I refused to intervene during all sibling fighting except when things got physical? Like seriously, is that being a really bad parent OR A really good parent? I mean obviously it has to build some kind of conflict resolution skills, right? The jury is still out on this. Only accepting input from other moms who also want to occasionally lock themselves in closets with a bottle of wine.

My kids displaying their natural primate behavior:

This meltdown brought to you by asking him to get his shoes on (it’s tough, ok?!?):

I guess the real concerning question on my mind is this: why and when did my children decide that this is an acceptable way to take a photo? 

Oh excuse me, I forgot about this completely over executed pose:
But seriously just when my head is about to explode into a million pieces and I dial their daddy to talk me down, this happens:

And I remember that OH.MY.LAWD I love these two tiny crazy people more than life itself!! Sometimes, I just need a strong cup o coffee and a whole lotta love ❤️ 

The Portland of Thailand 

It was an early morning wake up call for us to head out of Railey- which, to be honest, I was ok with because that meant capturing the sunrise while making our journey back to the mainland area and over to the Krabi airport. In order to get back to the mainland, we were loaded onto a tractor pulled by a trailer (yes, you heard that right), driven out over the low tide to a long tail boat. The long tail boat took us to the closest dock, about minute journey, and then a taxi took us to the airport where we took off to Chiang Mai. Goodbye beach vibes, help city surrounding by luscious jungle covered mountains. 
We were greeted in Chiang Mai by our gracious Airbnb host- Airbnb hosts in Thailand really go above and beyond we have discovered! Killing time before check in found us in the “old city” of Chiang Mai, which is the central part of the city and surrounded by a crumbling brick wall and moat that used to surround and protect the city at one point in time. We found a very random little restaurant featuring Chiang Mai’s best known dish: Khao Soi, which was a creamy spicy yellow noodle soup topped with more crunchy noodles. Dessert was mango sticky rice- absolutely delicious. 

A solid nap in an air conditioned room does the body good, and we had some extra energy to get up and explore the Sunday Night Market. We were a little overwhelmed at the size and popularity of this pop up market- it was really neat to see. Of course I was convinced into some hand carved wooden elephant whistles for my children by a very convincing Thai salesman “oh please, my uncle hand carve these!” I of course regretted my decision almost immediately! 

We actually hadn’t had much street food since we had arrived in Thailand, so the market was the perfect place to try it out. Kellen picked up a few marinated chicken satay sticks, marinated in what tasted like a teriyaki sauce, as well as a rice type egg roll thing (these are obviously the proper names, can’t you tell?) while I snagged a corn on the cob and some chicken satay as well. Once we get overwhelmed with the crowds, we escaped to a bar called MoonPie overlooking the crowds and drank some iced cold fin and tonics while we watched the hustle and bustle of the market continue late into the night. 

The next day we found a place for breakfast and coffee very easily, which we discovered come very often in Chiang Mai, which is why I told Kellen it reminded me a bit of the “Portland of Thailand.” Hip, cool, and filled with coffee shops, it was the perfect place to explore. We ended up renting a scooter nearby our condo and got really lost. When we looked at the map, we navigated to be beside the river, which we figured could only take us to good things. That route brought us out onto the highway and heading to Mae Rim, which we were excited to start seeing signs about waterfalls, so began to just follow those. About halfway through our journey we encountered a police roadblock and was flagged over. He asked for our license in very broken English, kellen handed him his Washington license (haha) and the cop pointed to a paper that said “500 baht” and made a motion to pay him. It was a very rough and consuming conversation where we tried to ask about proper licensing and permits and ended with us handing him the cash, him shaking our hand, and whispering “go go go!” Wait- did we just unintentionally bribe a cop not thailand? After lots more research and conversation with other travelers, we came to found out this is not at all uncommon and we most likely had been taken advantage of a bit. Oh well, since 500 baht was the equivalent of $15 US dollars and we weren’t too disappointed since it made for a pretty funny experience and story, 

We made it to the waterfalls, and I literally didn’t care I wasn’t wearing a suit, it was SO hot that day, I jumped right into the water for relief. 

Later that evening when we made it back to the city, we got picked up by a local photographer who drove us around looking for photo locations- this seems possibly not so significant but honestly was such a fun experience for us. He was a local to Chiang Mai and spoke really great English, so we finally had a chance to ask all sorts of questions to a local who could share with us. My first question was an important one: why are the beds so hard here?!? Apparently Thai people like firm beds, haha. He joked that he had become our tour guide that evening, and it really felt like it, since we learned some of the most useful and interesting facts from him about living life in Thailand. 

Our session was a fun one and we were absolutely exhausted from such a fun day, we crashed that night in anticipation of an early morning filled with elephants 🙂 stay tuned.