Naomi was two weeks old in this photo, Omi had arrived a few days previous.

And in roughly the time it takes these furry ferns to unfurl in the woods….

Naomi has turned into a chubby two-month-old with a cheeky grin. They say the time flies…. I must be getting older, because now I’d have to agree. I remember Milo’s infancy dragging a little, puttering around the house in a New York winter, staring out the window, a tad bit bored and feeling guilty over the sentiment. I was happy to return to work when maternity leave was over. This time I’m savoring the days, enjoying this little chickie every day.

Sand + Water = two year old paradise. We’ve done a lot of driving lately and we’re starting to make beach stops a habit, giving Milo a chance to stretch his legs and paddle around before stuffing him back in his car seat. Jeremiah found this neat spot in Dunedin (on the way back from the Kepler run), where the access trail involves a tunnel cut through the cliff to reach a low-tide beach hemmed in by sandstone cliffs.

Fwap! Take that, Water! Milo found this piece of seaweed to be the perfect whip.

Jeremiah shepherded Milo around this peninsula, one hand on his shirt at all times, heading off his attempts to chase sea gulls off the cliff edge.

My charge at this beach was simpler–keep the immobile baby warm, shaded, fed and happy. Maybe I’ll look back at these photos in a few years and see a family resemblance in our faces, but right now it’s just too close for me to discern.

Just a bit up the coast from Dunedin are the Moeraki boulders, peculiar round rocks squatting in the waves on a random stretch of desolate coastal beach. Maori legend says they’re gourds scattered from a shipwrecked canoe, a particularly unsatisfactory explanation for science geeks like us. The tourist sign says they are “concretions” formed by lime migrating around some central point deep within mud and sand sediments on the ocean floor. Still begs the question WHY? (I’m sounding like Milo now.) At any rate, the resulting round rocks are harder than their beds of sandstone and mudstone so when the waves scour away the sedimentary rocks, the perfect Moeraki Boulders are left for curious humans to oogle.

You can see why the Maori came up with a legend to explain the boulders–they really do look like toys of the gods.

One of the strangest things about the Moeraki boulder beach is the continuous stream of camera-waving tourists (us included) that flock to this otherwise abandoned bit of coast. It’s actually hard to get a photo of just the rocks among the crowds.

Here, after all, is the real reason we stop at beaches. Look at those happy toes. Most of that sand makes it back into the car with us too.

“What did you dress him in?!” Jeremiah exclaims, frowning. Well, in this case he dressed himself from the dress-up wardrobe at our friends’ house….a house of three girls. As of yet Milo has no cultural bias against pink, which I think is fantastic. Plus I find Jeremiah’s disgusted response predictable, fascinating and ridiculous all at the same time.  Ella was quite pleased to have a willing groom. 

I met my buddy Laura and her two kids, Audrey and Noah, at Playcenter in Christchurch last spring (October). We missed them a lot when they moved back to the northern hemisphere summer in Alaska (living everyone’s dream–moving from summer to summer each year). This spring they moved back to New Zealand, but had the nerve to relocate up to the hills near Nelson–6 hours drive from Christchurch! Jeremiah was driving up to the Marlborough sounds to mountain bike the Queen Charlotte track this weekend, so the kids and I hitched a ride up to see Laura’s family. We stayed with them on the NOLS base (National Outdoor Leadership School) that you see in the photo.

The forestry in Nelson seems really strange to us upstate New Yorkers. All that dark pine you see in the background is pinus radiata planted on impossibly steep slopes and clear cut every ~25 years. A clear cut hillside looks like a third world country….rapidly eroding soil and almost nothing green. I guess if they don’t want to farm hills, they’ll become flat sooner than later with that kind of treatment, but I hate to think abou the topsoil washing down uselessly into the salty ocean.  Ah well, I’m sure I don’t know the whole story about why it’s done that way. 

Here’s the clan! By some miracle we got a photo where everyone was looking at the camera.  We’re at the Agriculture show (like a county fair) in Nelson where we watched sheep shearing competitions, saw sheep herding competitions, and fingered prize-winning fleeces. Lots of sheep around here.

“My money’s on the black horse!” Milo seems to say. We were watching the horse judging from the stands, and I wondered if the organizers had intentionally put the miniature ponies pulling carts next to the massive Clydesdales for comic value.

Laura bought Audrey this little pull-along puppy at the ag fair and she took to it, carting it around wherever we went, including into the chicken coop! She’s amazing….she can spend hours happily having imaginary conversations with her toys. Made Milo seem like a complete live wire in comparison!

The sad thing about the hills near Nelson is that they’re infested with sand flies (akin to black flies, but they stick around all summer). As long as you’re moving they’re not so bad, but as soon as you stop, they descend. The NOLS property is bordered by a lovely picturesque stream enticing us to swim, but getting out with exposed skin is perilous. This day we let the kids paddle around fully clothed. I was also impressed with the logistics involved in moving 4 small children and two adults half a mile down a dirt road. To go smoothly it took two strollers, two backpacks, sun hats, water bottles, salty and sugary snacks, and two big doses of Mother’s Patience.

Water–there’s nothing like it for amusing children. We froze a couple bowls of dyed water with various kids’ toys embedded inside and they spent a happy afternoon releasing them from their frozen prisons. It was lovely to spend a few days with Laura, chatting about our families while moving at our kids’ pace–and being alright with that speed.

We spent the day before Omi flew home (last Saturday) at Hagley Park enjoying an unseasonably warm day in the town. Omi and Naomi took a leisurely ride in a punt boat on the Avon river, dodging (and sometimes hitting) the erratic kayakers. Jeremiah, Milo and I paddled one of these kayaks, adding our bit to the river traffic. It was such a nice day that the river was fairly strewn with boats.  Soak up the sun, Omi–re-entry into Chicago winter will be rough.

Omi treated us all to ice cream in the park. November is “Movember” in NZ, and somehow that means that men grow silly facial hair in honor of prostate cancer awareness. Milo joined in with his ice cream goatee.

Aw! Jeremiah’s on daddy duty here while Milo, Omi and I were in the wading pool.

Thank you for visiting Omi! We love you!

Imagine walking into a winery to do a tasting with five children (under 5), three grannies, three moms and a friend. Here in NZ, they didn’t even bat an eye. In fact, the winery employee told us to take the kids through to the restaurant kitchen and ask for some fish scraps to feed to the pet eels. We visited three wineries that day and there were toys and kid activities at each one. Kiwis do love their children!

Here’s the crew tasting some wines at Pegasus Bay winery. Two of the families we’re friends with also had grandmothers visiting at the same time that Omi was visiting us. The guys cracked a few jokes about needing an escape from the mothers-in-law, but they’re actually lucky because our moms have been great. My mom never made any critical remarks or judgmental comments. She didn’t even tell me that my house was dusty (which it is!).  The grannies hit it off and got together later for coffee.

We ate lunch at one of the wineries, one whose sign advertised a “cafe” rather than this one where there were two forks and two spoons at each place setting. If anyone visits us here, we’ll take you on a day trip to the Wairapa valley wine region, just an hour north of Christchurch.

Pegasus Bay winery had gorgeous grounds, and the pet eels live in this pond under the bridge.

Yikes, if you’ve never fed eels before, it’s a bit creepy. At first the water appears empty, but then dark shadows start to writhe out of the depths. They come right to your feet, pushing their noses out of the water, reaching for the food. These critters can travel over land, believe it or not. Fascinating for mommies and kiddies alike!

Last time we hiked the Nydia track in the Marlborough Sounds we said to ourselves that it would be a good place to take family. It’s not a difficult hike, it goes through lovely green characteristically New Zealand forest full of tree ferns, and it ends at a beautiful lodge run by a very warm, welcoming family. We took a weekend trip up there when my Mom came to visit. Here we are, decked out with our gear, ready to go. The only catch is that the track starts in Marlborough, of course, a 6 hour drive north from Christchurch.

Here’s Milo’s view for that 6 hours…or 7 or more with the requisite stops.   Milo was using the camera for a bit of that time…. Gone are the days when we can point out an animal and he’s enthralled. He’s just not that excited by sheep and cows and horses and miles and miles of pastures anymore.

Milo actually did quite well on the drive. Here he is dancing in his car seat to kids’ music we borrowed from the library. When music got boring, we read books. When books got boring, we listened to stories on CD. When stories got boring, we resorted to jelly bean bribery.

On the way up north we stopped to pick some early season cherries. Yum!

Healthy cherry trees with a ripe crop are just so scrumptiously beautiful. We were the classic agrotourists, only picking enough cherries for that night’s dinner, but we enjoyed ourselves in the process.

On the way north we stayed overnight at Watson’s Way Backpacker, where we’ve stayed several times before. It’s clean, the kitchen is better than our own, and the proprietors like kids. Upon returning the room key the boys were rewarded a chocolate and the girls got a fragrant garden rose.

From what I read, we still don’t qualify as Sherpas, but I feel like we’re gradually getting there.

“Me step in it?” Milo asked, from his perch in the backpack. “When you walk our hikes, you can step on the mushrooms,” I concede, “but not right now.”  Not that I really want beautiful mushrooms annihilated by a two-year-old, but if he’s walking, then I figure it’s worth it….there must be many more mushrooms growing that we can’t see from the path.  Parenting is full of compromises, I’m discovering.

Here’s Omi just after lunch on the saddle. She wasn’t particularly confident that she could do the hike and we didn’t dole out the snacks soon enough on the uphill (I realized as she started to wobble a bit–she never complained!), but in the end she made it with flying colors.

Here we are, just before Omi slipped and fell into the stream.

Ah well, wet feet got cured in the hot tub at the lodge.

Worn out from a long day hiking? Hardly, but peacefully sleeping nontheless.

Here’s the lodge where we stayed. It was bought 2.5 years ago by a guy just a few years older than us who runs it with the help of his parents. They’re an amazingly warm hospitable family. I’m quite curious to know how much of this loveliness they put on in the morning as they greet guests and how much is natural, but I bet most of it is just who they are.

Omi stayed in the upstairs of one of these cute little cabins, and the Shaws occupied another.

Isn’t this a charming bedroom? Makes me want to get up slowly in the morning, open the curtains and climb back into bed with a book. Not that we got the luxury of doing that with Milo bopping around….

Here’s the bath house at the lodge. Everything here is done with a stylish flair, even down to the door handles and tea pots.

Breakfast with a view!

Naomi for breakfast anyone? This wonderfully immobile stage doesn’t last long.

Omi got bolder this weekend, even taking a kayak out by herself for the first time. Bravo!

This was Milo’s first kayak ride, but I don’t think he’s quite ready for a long trip yet. We sang the kayak version of “the wheels on the bus go round and round” to keep him happy. Omi’s verse went “The Omi in the kayak says I’m All Wet!”  She’s really such a good sport.

The lodge keeps some goats, and this spring they also have an orphaned lamb and calf. Milo’s surprisingly cautious about touching animals, which seems strange considering how bold he is in other regards.

Is the chess set giant, or are Milo and Jeremiah dwarfs?

The lodge is at the tip of a long bay, accessible by boat or by walking track but not by road. It has a limitless supply of throwing rocks that Milo appreciated.

The weather is what it is….but in Marlborough it’s usually nice.

Here we are, ready for our walk out.

Tough Omi! A couple streams are unbridged, so we took our shoes off to keep them dry in crossing. “Why no bridge” asks Milo. “No one wanted to maintain one, honey,” I say. “Why?!” he asks. “It costs money to maintain a bridge,” I say. “Why?!” he counters again. I’ve learned that not every question has a Why-type answer.

Cows must not lead particularly scintillating lives if a few people walking across their pasture can elicit such interest. They all turned their white faces to stare at us blankly as we passed. Perhaps not too much is going on up there.

It’s spring here, and the tree ferns are unfurling new leaves. They remind me of Naomi when she lifts up her fist and stares at it as it turns, examining it as if it wasn’t part of her own body.

We were followed for a stint by a curious Weka bird. They’re like woods chickens, and I think they have a lot more going on in that feathered head of theirs than the cows down in the pasture below.

It’s a rather unusual sight, a dad carrying a newborn on the front and his rifle on his back. Jeremiah went out deer hunting some evenings and mornings when we were at the lodge, but we left all the deer (and pigs, and goats, and possums) in the forest this time.  We’re headed back to our car, and to the long drive home.

Governor’s Bay is on the other side of the Port Hills, the center of an old extinct volcano. We took a walk there on a beautiful sunny morning and stopped to relocate some snails in the tidal pools. Milo discovered that the mud slippers are pretty tough to wash off!

Perfectly situated at the end of the bay walkway is She Chocolate, a chocolate-lover’s dream. The little cafe makes their truffles by hand, even giving instructions on how to consume them for the maximum gustatory experience. We splurged on hot chocolate, mocha, and brownie sundae….and I have to say that it was the best hot chocolate that I’ve ever consumed.

Milo’s chocolate milk came with a chocolate turtle perched on the lip of the glass, most of which made it into his happy little mouth!

Let’s hope this little finch shared the crumbs with it’s babies! What great pickings!

Last Sunday we spent a gloriously sunny day tooling around Arthur’s Pass, the national park right up in the divide of the Southern Alps.

Here’s our Castle! Castle Hill, that is. The stones are limestone, and have been weathered by fierce wind and rain to somehow make these fascinating shapes.  I wish I could see the geological history of the past however-many millions of years in fast forward, watching the sculpting of this landscape.

Here’s the king of the castle, sitting on his throne!

Now he’s King Bidgood in the Bathtub, who doesn’t want to get out! Milo was fascinated by this round bowl in the rock and spent the rest of the time there looking for more “bathtubs.”

I liked this little nest, warm in the sun with my new little chickie. We felt like munchkins.

Milo paused from his bathtub hunt long enough to ROARRRR! Castle Hill would be perfect for a massive gave of hide-and-seek, and Milo’s current version of that game includes a lot of noisy tiger roars with simulated finger claws.

The second bathtub we found was big enough for the whole family. Castle Hill is also a working farm, and from our perch in the tub we watched the farmer and his dogs gather their sheep.

Aw, family photo. We realized that getting four people to simultaneously look and smile is exponentially more difficult even than three. 3 out of 4 isn’t bad….

Further up the valley we took a walk to a waterfall called the Devil’s Punchbowl–you can see it behind Milo. I rather like the fanciful names. They’re much more interesting than naming features after people.

Here’s what the waterfall looks like up closer, squinting through the blowing mist. It is just one of dozens of such waterfalls in Arthur’s pass, but it’s notable in that it’s accessible by a well maintained path and over 200 stairs.

Milo climbed all of those 200 stairs by himself, both up and down. Bravo, little hiker-in-training! We haven’t quite figured out the logistics of carrying two children plus camping gear, so many of our future trips will be contingent on Milo’s stamina.

Most of the stairs were wooden, climbing through the beech forest like a tree fort, but these last ones were stone.

Daddy and Milo, what a cute pair.

Here’s Omi and Milo, also a cute pair. What a funny perspective, with Omi looking smaller than Milo. I guess that trick of the camera is appropriate, here in the land of the Hobbits.

Sugar stop! Milo was flagging a little at the top of the hill so we sat down and tanked him up with a marshmallow. The adults discussed how tastes change–marshmallows are so unappetizing to us now but are universally beloved by children.

Abi, this stream photo is for you. You could drink from it if you wanted too—it was snow not too long ago. I have yet to learn what minerals in particular in the “glacial flour” makes the water that peculiar color blue.

You can’t visit Arthur’s Pass (one of the few roads connecting the east coast to the west coast of New Zealand’s South Island) without talking about the keas. These mischievous mountain parrots are notorious for their bold antics, such as picking the rubber out from around your car windows with their strong beaks.

My grandmother Mommom made each of us a special quilt when we were kids.  We loved them and used them for years–I still have mine.  Omi has taken on this tradition with my children. She gave Milo his quilt when he was an infant, and he sleeps on it every night.

Omi brought Naomi’s quilt with her when she came to New Zealand. The pattern is called “Trip Around the World,” which seemed quite appropriate in this case!

“Match, Match!” Milo says. Two lovely kids, two lovely quilts.