A Very Boofy Christmas
Twas the night before Christmas, when all cross the walls
Not a climber was crimping, or taking lead falls.
The ropes were all hung from the tippity top.
To save the top ropers from a big scary drop.
The boulderers were nestled all snug on their mats,
Wearing tiny ass shoes and tiny ass hats.
And I in a onesie, with white padded feet,
Put on some Jay-Z, and danced to the beat.
When out in the alley there arose such a clatter,
I shrieked and eeked as I ran down the ladder.
Away to the exit I flew like a flash,
Fearing some hoodlum to be after my cash.
The moon abreast on the trash all around,
Made it all still look gross and dirty and brown.
When what to my wondering eyes did I see,
But Raff dressed as Santa sipping Hennessy.
I thought to myself “this is pretty damn weird”
Then slinked away as the jolly drunk neared.
More rapid then whippers the setting crew emerged,
and Raff called them out as the scary men surged.
Now Davey, now Grodzki, now Haggs, and Yozzie.
On Joshy, on Veazie, on Thom and the Aussie.
To the top of the boulders to the top of the cave,
they came at the walls like teens to a rave.
As dry leaves and fire do make conflagration,
The setters they sprang to each climbing station.
Up to the rope tops they all quickly rose,
Shouting out curses, and the lowest of blows.
And then, on the boulders, I heard someone stumbling,
The imposter of Santa appeared to be bumbling.
Raff swigged from his bottle and gazed all around
Then, at the stairs, tumbled strait to the ground.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his toes,
But his clothes were now bloodied by a leak from his nose.
With a bundle of holds flung over his shoulder,
He created some mischief at every boulder.
His eyes how the wandered, his breath how it stank,
His suit all covered by the drinks that he drank.
His droll little mouth was stuck in a smirk,
Seemed that any second he might go berserk.
The stump of a cigar he held tight in his jaw,
You could tell he feared not for breaking the law.
He had broad shoulders and arms like a tree,
And i smelled his BO as he came closer to me.
I think he had a chubby, tucked in his sweat pants,
Of this i became certain when he started to dance.
A wink of an eye and a twist of his head,
soon gave me to know there was plenty to dread.
He spoke not a word, sticking solely to his work,
Creating the climbs of the cleverest jerk.
He was done within minutes, he really did cruise,
Which worked out for him and his bottle of booze.
.
Then he sprang out the door, to his team he did yell,
and I was excited to finally be rid of their smell.
But i heard him exclaim, ‘ere he departed,
“I sandbagged them all, and I also just farted.”
As a young twenty year old, climbing was in and out of my life when I felt like it. Then when I had my daughter, who is now 7, time and passions became different. As soon as she showed interest at the age of 3, I threw her in a harness and got her on the wall. She did great from the get go and from then on it was something we shared. With her it was easy because she was older and loved just being in the gym with all the attention she got (such a ham). My husband and I started taking her climbing outdoors when she was 4 and she had a love/hate relationship with it. She wanted to climb harder grades but was just too little, so you can imagine the frustration for her, but she was feisty! We loved just being able to take her with us making the ascents fun for her and sometimes even turning it into a camping trip. This continued until I got pregnant with my second child. I was determined to keep climbing (safely) as long as my body would allow it and almost made it to my due date (37 weeks prego), when I'm pretty sure my pelvis almost broke in half from my weight. I looked crazy with my big belly sticking through my ever so flattering full-body harness, but I just kept on trucking and it kept my mind and body active while spending the last few moments of peace with my husband and daughter before the chaos that is my son came roaring through! Before we knew it Logan arrived and climbing took a back seat for a bit.
Seven weeks went by and I was ready to get back on the wall. From then on it became a balancing act of kids, home, sleep, work and climbing. Fitting in the time to climb is something we had to just figure out. We took our first outdoor trip to The Red in KY when Logan was four months old and boy was it an adventure! Not as much climbing as we were used to there, but still a beautiful trip none the less. We knew if we didn't start taking those trips then, we would never do it. Ten days filled with long drives, thunderstorms that we thought would wash the tent away, beautiful crags and natural sights with our kids. From then on its just been adapting to this lifestyle and climbing as much as we can as hard as we can. Sometimes we get lucky and get some good sessions in and sometimes Logan makes it impossible so we take what we can get. As a 32 year old mother of two I try to stay as dedicated as possible to all aspects of my life. Whether I am projecting 12s on lead or V4s on boulders, I just have to look around and realize how lucky I am to still be able to do this with my family and friends! My passion will always be there along with the drive to climb harder and better, but there is nothing like finishing a climb and looking down to my husband belaying and my kids hanging out. Passions don't have to end when you have kids, it just adds more flavor to the adventure. So to all you climbing Mommies out there, keep on crushing!
