Bennett and Chloe have this 'thing'. Every time he has to go potty, he invites his sister along with him. Actually, it's more like a command rather than an invitation as in: "Chloe, don't you want to go to the bathroom with me?" If she ever refuses, he rephrases his question in a more irresistible way, "Chloe, I'm going to the bathroom now...don't you want to come with me?" Seriously, the kid would rather hold it than go into that dreaded small space alone. None of this concerns me, of course, since I just see it as Bennett usurping my role in potty training Chloe. More power to him!
All that said, they were in the bathroom together tonight and we didn't think anything of it - that is, until he comes out alone. We ask him where Chloe is. "Hmmm" he says, as he gives us his best impression of a puzzled look, including wrinkled eyebrow and all. "Well...." (beware of any sentence that Bennett speaks that begins with the phrase 'well' - it's just his stall tactic for coming up with a really good excuse - he's just buying time). He continues with, "...I just wanted to protect Chloe, so I locked her in there."
Oh really, how would that be protecting her? We sent him back to go unlock the door for his sister when she suddenly appeared before our eyes - much to Bennett's surprise. He runs over and gives her a little hug, like he was glad to see her. Then he questions how in the world she was able to open the lock. She just replies, "daw" (her word for door) and gives a big smile. Well, there you have it, that answers alot of questions.
We hurriedly went about the rest of our evening activities. It came time for me to put Chloe to bed. As I was cuddling her, Bennett comes walking into her room. His conscience must really have been eating at him. He goes over to the side of the bed, takes his hat off and holds it in front of him and says, "Chloe, I didn't mean to lock you in the bathroom, I was just trying to protect you, that's all." She just looks at him, then she decides to reply, "la lu" (love you). To which Bennett smiles humbly and says, "I love you too, Chloe, but I'm sorry I locked you in there." Chloe says, "oh tay" (okay) and all is forgiven and forgotten. He leaves with peace in his heart that his little sister still knows of his unstoppable love.
No one prompted him to go in there. He did it all on his own accord. He has such a soft spot for his sister. He acts as if it's his mission in life to teach her everything she must know, to protect her from any harm and to dress her in his underwear and make her go to the bathroom with him. He's definitely raising the bar for anyone who dare's to be her future husband!
The other night I gave the boys a break and set the table for them. Nice of me, I know. (I hope you see my tongue in cheek here). Actually, they had been so sweet all day just helping out where needed without any argument or complaining. So, instead of asking them to do their nightly chore, I did it for them because I had a plan in mind.
We have two 'special' plates. One that says: You Are Loved on it and another that the boys painted themselves at a pottery shop. They both hold high value in this house. Every night at least one person has the honor of the You Are Loved plate. Normally that one person is always me. Gavin is in love with me right now and always prefers to give me that special plate much to Bennett's chagrin. Bennett feels he deserves this plate every night.
So, on this very special day, I decided to set the table and distribute the 'special' plates at my own discretion. I gave Bennett the You Are Loved plate and Gavin the painted plate. Since they had such special plates, I decided to round out the setting and even give them a coaster on which to place their drinks. Normally, their plates fit inside their little plastic placemat area leaving enough room for the drinks to also fit without the need for a coaster.
But this was no ordinary night. I even set their plastic little cups on coasters. This attention to detail did not escape Bennett's line of sight. As they came running into the kitchen for dinner and settled into their places, Bennett declares, "Gavin, look....we even have COASTERS!"
Ahh! The simple things in life. Therein lies our parenting philosophy...it's the little things in life that matter most and make you the happiest. I know I won't remember this moment in the years to come, but they will. And I will always be thankful that I took the time to give them coasters.
Right now the boys are upstairs playing Spiderman…I’m not exactly sure how one ‘plays’ Spiderman. From the sounds of it, it involves lots of jumping, making noises like one is jumping and singing about jumping and web slinging. There is also the occasional conversation. The one I’m hearing now involves Doc Oc (as in, octopus) – he is one of the bad guys. He is a guy with mechanical tentacles coming out of some mysterious place on his back. Gavin is narrating something that sounds like this...”okay…his testicles are still hanging there…uh oh…now they're stuck on my face!...ahhh!” I had to stop and laugh at what a slight variation in letter placement of the word ‘tentacles’ has the ability to turn into! Of course, he’s clueless and that’s what makes this moment so funny. Innocence is a beautiful thing.
Keep in mind, Chloe is still a month shy of two years old, yet she already has formed very extreme opinions about the world around her. To call her opinionated is an understatement. Not only does she feel free to give you her opinion, she also demands that you agree with her and make any and all changes necessary in order to accommodate her. For example...
Today, since we didn't plan on leaving the house, I decided to wear a very pathetic looking outfit. Afterall, I was just going to be bumming around the house, who cares what I wear, right? I was soon to find out that Chloe did. So, there I am in my brown overalls and white t-shirt. Chloe wakes up and comes running over to me to greet me. But upon further examination, she stepped back, looked at me and made the 'yuck' look on her face accompanied with her special 'yuck' sound. This look and sound are typically reserved solely for her dirty diapers.
Now I'm being compared to a dirty diaper. Not quite the outlook I had envisioned for this lovely day. After her very verbal disagreement of my clothing choice, she pulls at my overalls and says, "New. New clothes, Mommeeee." I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. My daughter thinks I look yucky today. Where are all the 'pripee Mommeee' praises? I don't think I can survive a day with such disapproving looks and comments coming from my tiny dear. So, I reply, "Chloe, you don't like my clothes today?" I receive an adamant "No!" This word, she says very well of course. She likes to practice it many times a day.
Thankfully, I was allowed to pick out my own 'new clothes'. They met with much approval. However, I didn't have a 'nitnee' (button) on my pants and that bothered her slightly, but she was able to look past that fact and give me an approving nod on my new outfit selection.
I thought the difference in opinion about clothes was supposed to go the other way around and start in about 10 years. I guess this just ensures that I bring Chloe clothes shopping with me from now so that I always meet up with her ever changing opinion.
authors note: Granted, I looked pretty bad. I never should have put that outfit combination together - it was so early 90's. What was I thinking? I can only be truly thankful that I have a daughter who does not spare my feelings and tells me the truth for my own well being. How loving of my children to help keep me from common fashion faux paus and not live stuck in a particular decade.
Here’s a sampling of some of the things my son has pondered today:
1. “Why can’t I get married right now?”
Mommy’s answer: First of al,l it’s illegal Honey. Second, you’re too young. And third, because I said so.
2. “I still love you Mom, even though I’m making bad choices today.”
Mommy’s answer: Thank you, Sweetie. I never doubted that.
3. “Why did God make me a boy?”
Mommy’s answer: Because he knew you wanted to be a superhero, Honey and boys are normally stronger than girls. So, in order to be a strong superhero, you needed to be a boy.
4. “I can’t go to sleep cuz my eyes are too blinky.”
Daddy’s answer: Deal with it.
Oh to be the lucky soul that is privy enough to be on a long car trip with us! That would be a life altering event for you. The phrase ‘what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger’ comes to mind. At least, that’s the way it works for me on one of our road trips.
We desperately try to limit our road trips. Maybe 3 or 4 a year at max. Then we like to cap the drive time at no longer than 5 hours. Five hours alone riding in the car with my family is enough to earn one the purple heart for courage under fire!
We recently took one of these 5 hour adventure trips. Oh the joy we had! Seriously, we had a blast, but one has to be able to overlook the multitude of frivolous talk, whiny talk and abrupt, random, loud noises from the back seat area.
A drive time that lasts 1 1/2 hours or longer is deemed a bonafide ‘trip’ in our book. We pack for any and every kind of whether, thus the need for multiple suitcases. We CANNOT go without food, thus the reason for packing the van like we’re awaiting Y2K. We could probably feed all our friends plus their friends for days with as much food as I pack. But being left in the car with three wiggly kids and no food is a disaster waiting to happen. So, I prefer to avoid that scenario at all costs.
As soon as we back out of the garage, Bennett is normally the first to ask, “How many more minutes till we get there?” First of all, he still doesn’t fully grasp the concept of time. So, it is an utter waste of time for me to make this mental calculation to give to a 4 year old. Second, WE JUST BACKED OUT OF THE DRIVEWAY! How long do you THINK it’s going to take?!? For now the answer, “A long time, honey, a long, long time” is enough to quench his curiosity.
It also seems, that upon putting Chloe in her car seat, a tiny little trigger somewhere in her brain alerts her to the dangers inherent in sitting down in one place for an extended period of time and she begins her decent into what I like to call ‘Whinyville’. She stays in this place for the entire journey. Every once in a while she’ll return to the land of the blue traveling minivan long enough to yell out my name and then tell me she saw some random truck or color. We are all grateful for these moments of coherence.
She also seems to have multiple needs during a trip of any length. The first is the need for her ‘BLAH’. That would be translated into ‘drink’ for those of you not yet familiar with her rudimentary English. But she prefers to accentuate the BBB part of that word until it makes a nice little raspberry type sound and then the ending letter combinations LAH must be defined with a distinctive whiny sound. This is to ensure that we, the people who dragged her on this trip, will indeed be aware of how very thirsty she is at each and every moment and that it is our job to provide her with her immediate need in order to quench her thirst. We refer to this as her ‘diva complex’.
She also has a propensity to throw each and every toy, book, pacifier and random object onto the farthest side of the van floor that nobody can reach, otherwise known as ‘no-man’s-land’. At this point, I wish that I were indeed a superhero made out of stretchy plastic so that I could bend all the way around, without getting a cramp in my back or crick in my neck, and pick up each and every item my little dear needs but ‘accidentally’ threw on the floor. I’ve been surrounded my superhero mentality way too long for that thought to even occur to me. I can’t believe I just wished to be a superhero!
Gavin likes to also make us aware of his presence in the van by gracing us with multiple life questions that we are not prepared to answer and not sure exactly how to start. We normally avoid these types of intimidating situations by rapidly changing the subject matter. Our two standbys are: 1) asking, “Who wants an ice cream?” or 2) “Maybe you could call Grandma and Grandpa and ask them that question.”
Now before you begin to feel sorry for Chuck, the lone driver, let me just tell you a little about him. My dear husband loves to read every sign ever created. And he loves to do this out-loud. I can’t even begin to describe to you the pleasure of hearing every random sign read to me. It’s not like I have enough other people trying to talk to me at the same time already. He also likes to talk in a very low, mumbled, hush tone. This ensures that I repeatedly ask him, “Were you talking to me, Baby?” To which he replies, “Nope, I was just reading that sign over there.”
Another one of those special little idiosyncrasies that you don’t know about someone until you marry them is how they love to ask you rhetorical questions. Here is a sampling of the few I received on our last road trip, “Why’d they put that big one on top?” WHAT?!!? I wasn’t even looking in the same direction as him, yet he felt the need to question (out loud) why someone loaded their semi with cylindrical tubes and then had the gall to put the biggest one on the top of the pile and not tell him. How am I supposed to answer this question? The other question I was asked was, “Why wasn’t this section of town ever built up?” He didn’t really want me to answer that, I’m sure. Yet he asked it out loud. WHY?? I have no information on the infrastructure of this particular town. I cannot even make an educated guess. Yet, he proceeds to ask me random questions like this throughout the entire length of the drive.
During Chuck’s and my special ‘talk time’ in the car we are often interrupted with random statements from Bennett that include but are not limited to the following:
“I would like it if we were there now – I’m tired of waiting.”
“Mom, I feel like my bottom is squoooshed.”
From Chloe we hear:
“BLAHHHHHHH!!!”
“Lelow tuck” (yellow truck)
“Mommeeeeeeeeeee!!!”
Interspersed with thoughts from Gavin:
“Why is it cold now, if it was warm when we left?”
“If we’re going to see dinosaur bones, why can’t we see the whole dinosaur?”
Thankfully families come equipped with unconditional love, immense patience and a large sense of humor!
I was thrilled to come across the bargain of the century, a cute, little black satin number. I absolutely love pajamas. But its hard to find something that meets all my criteria: cheap, cute, modest, something I can wear in front of the kids, yet still feel pretty in. However, all my criteria were met in these sleeveless, black satin, long pant jammies.
Last night, after getting all cozied up in new, soft, feminine pajamas, I went up stairs to kiss the kids good night. Upon entering their room, the boys looked at me as if I were a movie star. They are both very much in the ‘in love with Mommy’ phase right now. They sat upright in bed and asked me with awe in their voices, “Were did you get those?”
I went on to explain the terrific deal I found and asked them why they liked my jammies so much. Bennett replied, “Wow, Mom, you look like Catwoman!”
Oh great! Now I will never be able to glance at a mirror again while wearing my new favorite pajamas without purring or meowing. In this family, it seems everything has some sort of superhero element to it. Now all I need is a mask to make my ‘outfit’ complete!
Chloe has taken it upon herself to be my cheerleader. With one look, one word, or one action she can change my whole outlook on life. Her latest, greatest is to look at me, with a sweet little smile and smiley little eyes and pronounce, "Pripee". I'll then ask her, "Who is pretty, Chloe?" And she'll get a gigantic grin on her face, point to me and say, "Mommeee pripee". How can that not make my heart swell?
Bennett has been trying this ploy for months now, as well. However, his is done purely out of manipulation. He’s trying to soften the blow of which discipline I’ll hand out to him. If I’ve caught him red-handed, he’ll look at me and say, “Mom, I love you. I think you’re pretty too.” I’m sure the response he’s hoping his compliment illicits would be something like: Oh sweet, thoughtful Bennett, my beloved child, how could I punish you now after you have bestowed such accolades upon me, your Mother? I shall now do away with all disciplinary procedures and dwell amongst the flattery you have so timely lavished upon me.
Since he’s realized that the timing of his compliments have gotten him nowhere, he has moved on to a more casual approach. He now informs me, “Mom, I think you look pretty today – even if you’re wearing THAT.” Why, thank you, Bennett, you have made my day.
You just can’t beat the perks of being a Mom!
In the past week, I’ve run into no less than 4 new superheroes residing at my house. Unbelievable, I know. Not only do I get to meet all these amazingly interesting and talented creatures, I am also privy to all their tales of heroism. Here is just a sampling of the ‘amazing but true’ news flashes I hear on a daily basis.
Humanknight (invented by Gavin) has now made himself known to mankind. We should all be humbled by his abilities and prowess. Can you believe he has claws for climbing buildings and ropes cascading out of his hands. But, alas, those are not even his super powers (which happen to be super vision and super strength).
The other day, Bennett introduced me to Waterman. He took a Crayola marker out of the ‘junk’ drawer in the kitchen (thank God it was of the washable variety – I also have several permanent markers in there – note to self: remove all permanent markers out of reach of the children). He then proceeded to draw a what appeared to be a mini hurricane all over his chest. He informed me that this was Waterman’s logo. “Oh, how inventive”, I replied. I’m not quite sure what powers he possessed. I was still quite taken back by the red logo all over his upper torso, that I blanked out during the super-power speech he gave.
Not to be outdone, Chloe has also joined the ranks of super heroine. She too, comes to me with red marker in hand and in her own language, begs for a ‘logo’. Most often she prefers “Super Chloe” which is an SG with a heart enclosing it. Chuck felt she needed a little variety in her heroine choices and has now given her the option of “Super Star Girl”. This logo is just a simple shining (bright red) star in the middle of her upper torso.
The theme here is logos. You cannot be a real superhero without having a real logo to back up your claim. My children, at tender young ages, have come to appreciate a good logo and know the importance and necessity of one as well.
The other heroes I met in Superheroville include, Lightning-Star Man. He is special because he travels on lightning and stars (who would have guessed?). Bennett informed me that his costume is very similar to Captain America’s so I should be careful not to confuse the two.
Gavin also introduced me to Icicle I Zill. It was a very brief meeting, so I’m not up to speed on all his super skills. I’m assuming they involve ice in some way, though. Batman, Spiderman and Superman are regulars here and need no introduction. However, sometimes some of the other random superheroes borrow their costumes when they’re at a creative loss.
Last, but definitely not least, are SuperGavin & SuperBennett. Ah, what to say about these two characters. Can you believe they even possess their super powers when they are still mere humans? They never cease to amaze me. SuperGavin has a dark blue uniform with a light blue SG logo. SuperBennett has a purple costume.
Well, that’s a little inside peek into my world. Come again, anytime. But you better make sure to have an acceptable logo.
I have three degrees of sickness in this house. Surprisingly, I also have three children. One could deduct that each child represents a unique and amazingly different degree of sickness. Let's begin with the first degree. I like to refer to this one as ‘ Pretend Your Not Sick And Then Throw Up All Over Everything & Everyone’ level.
The subject who fits this category is none other than our very own Bennett. The only warning one receives from this degree of sickness is a nonchalant “Mommy, my tummy kinda hurts.” When a statement like that is voiced out of the mouth of a hypochondriac, it is not given much weight. Bennett gives the same intensity of emotional outcry to a paper cut as he does a broken arm. It’s hard to judge his level of sickness merely from his reaction to it.
Yet, I have noticed a pattern. It has taken me four years, but I believe I have finally hacked into his mainframe and figured out his triggers. He typically gets sick (meaning throw-up) out of the blue. It appears that between 4 -6 hours after uttering the words, “my tummy hurts”, there is invariably a puking episode of some sorts.
He prefers to throw-up all over his pillow and himself. He lays in it until jarred awake. He NEVER makes it to the bathroom. He NEVER cries out. He prefers to take matters into his own hands. This involves going into the bathroom and standing there. After hearing a pitter-patter upstairs at 2 in the morning, we (Chuck) is stirred enough to sleepwalk upstairs and is greeted with the most pleasant aroma. He then spends the next hour cleaning puke from everything and everywhere while I tend to the child (trying all the while to keep my own stomach in check).
The second degree of sickness we have witnessed is the ‘Yell Out And Act Like You Are Dying & Ask For Permission To Leave Your Bed First’ variety. Ever since Gavin was an infant this has been his method of choice. He used to lay in bed and scream for us at the top of his lungs until we came running in there assured that a monster had him in his grip. He would then inform us with utmost panic that he was about to throw up. All the effort and strain he spent yelling for us evidently triggered the ‘throw-up right where you are’ mechanism in his body and we would then be witnesses to the phenomenon. But it wasn’t over after the first bout. He would then feabily stand and try to walk to the bathroom only to have another puking attack in a prominent place in the hallway. He ALWAYS leaves us a trophy on the carpet. Each stain reminds us of a previous bout of illness and leaves us with many stories to reminisce over. Again, this degree of sickness has one prominent feature to it: NEVER make it to the bathroom.
The last and final variety I have had the privilege of observing is the ‘Do Not Under Any Circumstances Let The Puke Leave Your Mouth’ degree. This is the most peculiar to me. My youngest and only girl, Chloe, has chosen this method. When her tiny body begins the convulsions associated with a ‘watch out I’m fixin to puke’ warning, she squeezes her mouth shut as tight as she can. A monkey wrench wouldn’t be able to pry her mouth open. When the episode has passed, she calmly swallows whatever was in her mouth and continues on with her zombie like state. She remains this way until the ‘bug’ has left her system. Then all is well in the world once more.
These entires might come in handy for future spouses. Remember, marriage is “for better or worse, in sickness and in health”. If you are considering marrying one of my children, read this first…you will need to know what you’re getting into. Don’t say I never warned you.
I was given the invitation this past weekend. Chuck & Gavin designed a sweet little number inviting me to a dinner date at our house – formal attire none-the-less – for Valentine’s Day. I have to say, this was one of the best ‘dates’ I’ve ever been on.
The kids love keeping secrets. Gavin even had all the instructions Chuck gave him written down and shoved into his shirt pocket. I noticed him consult his all important list several times. And of course, they were dressed to the nines. Both boys donned their Sunday best. Just to give you a visual image: clip-on ties all caddy-wompus, shirt-tails un-tucked, pants pulled up way above their belly-buttons and no socks or shoes.
Chuck was sweet to come home from work and immediately get started on the ‘secret dinner’. I was given alone time in the bedroom which frustrated Chloe to no end. We ended up dancing, playing on the bed and playing Batman for a large chunk of that ‘alone time’ – not that I minded at all. The boys also had the good sense to ‘help’ me pick out my formal attire. I will not give you a visual description of what they chose for me to wear. Suffice it to say, there was much compromising going on.
After Chloe was cuddled, sung to and fast asleep in her bed, ‘Operation Valentine’ was put into action. Chuck ran down the ‘list’ one last time with Gavin and then whisked me away, out the front door. We sat out on our patio for a few minutes while the boys finished their final preparations inside. When we knocked on the door, we were greeted by a frantic Gavin. He was visibly upset that Bennett had strayed from ‘the plan’. Instead of turning on the c.d. player, Bennett unknowingly opened the c.d. player and neither one knew how to fix it. Chuck calmly intervened and the mini crisis was over. We repeated the whole knock on the door thing.
The boys were just so giddy about the whole idea – that their Daddy actually wanted and needed their help for this special occasion. They couldn’t wipe off the silly grins from their faces. Nor could they stop bouncing around. I don’t think they walked anywhere all night – they just jumped from one thing to the next. Their whole body burst with excitement.
Our table was the small kids table we normally keep upstairs for the kids’ to work on. It was placed strategically in the living room. Frank Sinatra provided the lovely background music. The boys set the miniature table beautifully. Gavin even made up a name for the ‘restaurant’ and taped it to the fireplace. Come to find out we were eating at the: G & B Restrront.
I was a little nervous during the whole candle lighting. Gavin had figured out how to use the fire starter, but had not quite mastered the whole aiming thing. Bennett brought us little valentine’s cards he had written. Matter of fact, we got four cards. He just couldn’t stay away from us. He wanted to just pull up a chair and hang out with us. When he wasn’t bouncing around like Tigger bringing us cards, he was just staring at us with a huge grin on his face or refilling my water glass.
It was so cute to see their excitement and servant hearts. This was truly love in action and the best gift I have ever received for Valentine’s Day.
Okay, so here’s the story…my friend and I meet at a park. We have a total of 7 children between the two of us. We heard there was this really cool natural point of interest called “Jacob’s Ladder”. So, we did a little asking at the park we were at and come to find out, the object of our desire is a mere 100 yards away.
We really weren’t all that sure what this “Jacob’s Ladder” was. We were under the assumption it was some sort of suspension bridge. Neither of us were in our home city. We each drove quite a distance to meet one another in a central location to enjoy a wonderful day outside. That’s why, if we appear clueless about this beautiful natural tourist attraction, it is because we were.
Knowing the ages of the 7 children involved is quite important. My friend has a 5 month old in one arm, a 2 ½ year old lagging behind her, 4 & 6 year old boys running like gazelles 10 yards ahead of us. I, of course, have the fearless superheroes for children. They believe they ARE Spiderman and Batman; therefore, no harm can ever befall them. I also have my little diva attached to my hip. Anything that resembles dirt makes her squeamish and must be instantly removed from her sight. Thus begins our journey into the unknown.
We come to what appears to be some stairs leading down toward a road. At first glance, they look like every other set of stairs. Being the anal, paranoid type of person that I am, I immediately set up guidelines for walking down these ‘stairs’. One Mommy, that would be me, will walk in front (in case anyone slips and falls they will bump into me and then I will go rolling….). The other Mommy, my friend, was to pull up the rear (in case we had a retreater, plus, her daughter insisted on walking the stairs all by herself and 2 year legs don’t go very fast).
Once you reach about the 10th step, you realize you are no longer going down a stairway, you are instead, propelling yourself and 7 children down the steep edge of a cliff. With each step your life flashes before your eyes. Being that I had Chloe on one hip, I was off balance slightly. I have difficulty walking on my own two feet by myself. Add to that my INTENSE fear of heights and the fact that I was leading this parade gave me great distress.
I do however, owe a big thanks to the makers of these ‘stairs’. They did have the foresight to add charming little wood post railings to either side. They were, unfortunately, a little on the rickety side, wobbling more than I deemed safe. Either side of the ‘stairs’ were covered with trees and underbrush. We did pass your random piñata. I was really hoping it wasn’t from a birthday party gone bad. We finally reach a small landing only to find the rest of the cliff still awaits us and appears even steeper than the first leg of our journey.
While we are all ‘resting’ on this death ledge, the children are leaning all over the rickey ‘ol railing. I am on the verge of throwing up, I’m so nervous. My legs have turned to mush. Fear is gripping me. I foresee some major rolling down a cliff in my near future and the thought is a little overwhelming. Yet, I press on, not to be one to shrink back from a challenge. Plus, I was the one leading this little excursion. What would the kids think of me?
We finally reach the bottom and turn around to look up from whence we came. We were going to need a helicopter to come in and bring us back up. There was no way in this world I was climbing up the side of a mountain with Chloe in my arms. However, that was a short lived pipe dream. We asked a bystander, who must have been enjoying the entertainment our parade provided, where this “Jacob’s Ladder” was. She looked at us like we were aliens and replied, “You just walked down it.” Duh.
This time, all four boys led the way back to the top of the cliff. Being that they had the added bonus of spider webs they could shoot out to help ease their way up the mountain, they had no problem bounding up the steps. My friend and I took slightly longer to go up. I was at the very back. I just knew I was going to fall backward at any moment. I have not experienced such a work out in my entire life. Yet, who was I to complain, I wasn’t carrying a 5 month old on my hip. If she could do it, so could I. My legs were burning, my heart was racing, sweat was dripping down my back and that was only at step 50 – where the landing was.
Once I made it to the top (the 93rd step), I wanted to fall face down on the ground and kiss it. I have never been more happy to be on flat land. I looked back over the ledge and told my friend, “If I had known that this was the adventure we were walking into, I don’t know that I would have ever done that on purpose. We might as well have just volunteered to climb the Washington Monument with all our kids in tow.” Thus ends your typical day at the park for us….until next time.
