To Take a Walk - Part I

Clara and John and I recently took a walk.  It was so beautiful, I was swept up with the feeling that a daily walk is the answer to all my woes.  (Correction.  I am reading "Half the Sky" and I cannot sit with claiming any real woes.)

I remember having similar epiphanies at various (younger) stages in life:

• "All I want in life is to live in a place where I can go cross country skiing every day!"
• "If I can just wake up outside every morning of my life, or at least with my face in an open window, I will be a happy person."

In the days that followed, I secretly took a walk every day and recorded something about each one.  Then I planned to take pictures of every walk and put it in a book with all the uplifting thoughts that came along the way.  (Very interesting reading, I'm sure.  Not repetitive at all!)  OK - so that lasted maybe six days.  Then the weather got cold.

I still feel inspired to share a little bit about my recent walks, an unfettered indulgence I can do here.  I still feel like I'm a happier person every time I fit a walk into my day, but I'm dropping my daily photos, "deep thoughts," and strict regimen that potentially squeeze out the joy.

Anyway, here is the first in a (brief) series.  That first walk with Clara and John really was transporting.  We walked in the spring snow, in the mountains, in the quiet, with birds and trees and a stream and the mountain air.  I wouldn't mind taking that walk, with that company, for all of my days to come.

Home?

John's 24-hour talk lately reflects our busy days and our string of visitors:

• Daddy?  Home?
• June?  Home?
• Woa?  Home?
• LaLa? Home?
• Papa Tarl? Home?
• Kylar?  Home?
• Gimme?  Home?

His people are his world.  And he recognizes that there is a lot of coming and going.  Even last night, in the middle of the night, he startled and said "Everbody - Home?"

Easter Tree

After baskets, brunch and egg hunts, we spent the afternoon assembling an Easter Tree.  I think it's our third year in a row, at which point like it or not, it's a tradition.  

This one I'm happy with.  It feels good to do some whimsical art and actually come up with a product.  Truly, every day feels like whimsical art, also known as chaos.

Unfortunately for John, this project is all about keeping him away.  Not an easy task.

 

Earth Day

Today, we celebrated our Earth in a number of ways:

• Will and Clara and I biked to school, which was beautiful and windy and a mile too long for Clara.
• June and John and I biked home, by way of the coffee shop.
• Clara and June wore flower dresses.
• John stomped in puddles in his boots.
• We all walked / strolled / scooted to the Rec Center.
• We admired the community gardens.
• We picked up trash along our favorite creek.
• We tended to our little seeds.

Spring Scissors

Spring is making a slow arrival.  But as it unfolds, I've been able to witness a favorite early spring sight:  the girls wandering the yard with a pair of scissors.   Here is what they came up with:

Biker's Anxiety

Last Friday, for the first time this year, I biked with all the kids home from school.  We've done this ride now in one form or another since Will's first day of Kindergarten.  I never (well, almost never) regret it, but there is always anxiety.

The anxiety du jour is John:  How long will he last in the burley?  Or, if I get him out, how will I ever get him back in?  But, there have been many biking anxieties to and/or from school over the years:

• How will we ever make it on time at this pace?
• I think I'm going to crash into traffic if Will keeps dancing in his trailer bike seat.
• I hope we make it home before Clara and June beat each other up in the burley.
• I hope June falls asleep, rather than cries the whole way home.
• Poor Clara is so cold she's crying.
• If I have to stop every five pedals to answer questions that I can't hear, we'll never get anywhere.
• Why didn't I bring more food?
• I hope we make it home before someone gets struck by lightening.
• What am I - CRAZY?

On Friday, I left the house at 10:30 am, picked the kids up at noon, and made it back home just after 5:00 pm.  Our trip involved a picnic, one stop at a park, one stop at a Cottonwood graveyard, one detour on the Boulder Creek, one stop for snacks, and one stop for dinner! 

There were many anxieties along the way.  But, honestly, there are always anxieties.  And there are often breakdowns.  So we might as well be riding bikes!

Tedium

Sometimes parenting is tedious.  In fact, it may be hard to beat the hours we recently spent:

(1) picking up 1,000s of itty bitty blue fish tank rocks that John scattered around and buried in the grass, WHILE 

(2) counting out loud seat drops on the trampoline, as Will and Clara compete for who can reach 1,000, then 1,005, then 1010, and on and on and on....