Hello friends. I suppose I have taken an unintended break from my blog. The business of life got in the way of writing about it.
Mya finished school for the year. The whole family caught a bug that lasted forever, different cycles of the same sickness. Ellie’s amazing physical therapist retired and I felt myself crying as I said goodbye to her. Ellie transitioned from walking to running. Mya has an amazing tendency to act like a 4 year old and a 20 year old within the same afternoon. And it is warm outside, and I am watering flowers, and wavering between aggressively teaching Ellie sign language and learning how to accept that language, her own language, will come at it’s own pace.
This past weekend we ventured into an old enjoyment that now feels new. We went camping, our first time camping with children. Travis and both went camping growing up. And as we dated and then were newlyweds we continued to share this joy. But with kids, it seemed terrifying. Where will they sleep in the tent! What do we do with diapers! What will they eat! What if the milk doesn’t stay cold! My favorite part of camping is sometimes doing nothing but the kids never let us do nothing! Ahh! So we did it! We spent 3 days packing for a weekend trip. We filled the car and the Thule and I still felt like we needed more stuff. We planned escape excuses just incase we needed to leave the moment we arrived. And we drove North to Algonquin Park. And once we arrived I realized we forgot a first aid kit. But you know what within minutes both kids had aching cheeks from laughing, and we only used half of what we brought. Ellie started crying the moment we arrived and I feared it was too much, that no one was ready. But I held her and walked out near the water and I sang her favorite song and she stopped crying, and she didn’t cry again, for the rest of the trip. Mya held a baby frog in her hands and fell in the dirt and had a hot dog that was cooked over a campfire. Shortly after we arrived, as we were unpacking the car, Ellie tried to walk on the uneven ground, and she was so scared she held my leg so tight it almost hurt. But the next day she took a few steps, that afternoon she walked across our site, and by the next morning she forgot she was scared and walked just like she does at home. So I slowly also realized maybe I wasn’t afraid either. As we drove home, Mya was covered in bug bites, Ellie had the remnants of several handfuls of dirt hidden in her tummy, our clothes smelt like campfire, and there was something sticky on my hands that would not go away. But Mya had stayed up late enough to see the stars and heard songs sung by a campfire. And Ellie woke up early and we walked through a forest completely drenched in fog before anyone else was awake. And Travis and I sat by a campfire while our girls were sleeping in the tent and told stories of younger years, times had by a similar campfire. Something I’ve been learning, that difference is never ever a bad thing.
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