Somewhere Jack picked up the word scary, pronounced (scare-we). He is extremely afraid of the dark and on more than one occasion he has called me into his room to fend off the scary monsters. (MONshtars).
This weekend, however, I saw a very different, very brave little boy. Until, that is, the scary monsters slipped into his tent while he was sleeping (but that's a story for another time) On our camping trip to E-Rock this past weekend, I was exponentially impressed by my toddler’s capacity for hiking. Hiking while injured, to point a fact.
I’m not sure if you are aware, but when you use a portable grill for making breakfast tacos, just because you shut the lid does not mean that the grill is no longer hot. In fact, it is the quite the opposite, and my fumbly, Rubbermaid, caterpillar-chasing, Calvin doppleganger of a son found this out the hard way as he went skipping past the grill and for a brief second, put his soft fleshy hand on the lid for support. 3….2….1…. wait for it... He smiled...... then ….but no!….oh my gosh that f***ing hurtzzzzz!!!!……"MOMMY MY BOO BOO!!!!!!” He came screaming to me with tears in his eyes.
I comforted him a while and wrapped his hand with a wet cloth after applying some bactin to the red swollen circle on his palm. He just cried and cried and begged for kisses for the sum total of about five minutes and then the skies cleared and he was good-to-go!
Amazing the resilience on that kid.
So we loaded up and took the trek to the summit of “E”-Rock. Jack’s hand, wrapped in a pink bandana, was carrying the ever-faithful brunket. Jack was dressed in a green and blue shirt and a pair of shorts that could’ve doubled as baggy pants.
At first it was slow going. It’s been over a decade since the last time I did any kind of hiking and I am pretty sure that I needed oxygen and physical assistance to walk at some point . So, I had some apprehensions on how I would perform. Not to mention a whole other set of worries on the performance of a miniature genetic replica of myself. It didn’t take long for me to get into the “Drag your feet in that gravel one more time and I am gonna karate chop your adam’s apple” kind of mood. I started the day carrying Jack because the path was rocky and the granite that makes up e-rock was slick from the rain the night before. It was hard enough for me to maneuver, but the slippery slopes would of resulted in a massive injury for Jack. Luckily before long the trail smoothed out and the weather warmed and dried the rock so I was able to let Jack walk on his own and focus on my own ascent up the hill. It was a 45 degree incline towards the top of the hill and over a thousand feet up.
The burn in my legs felt good and the air in my lungs was a happy reminder of one of the many reasons that kicking the cigarette habit was such an amazing thing in my life. I was impressed with myself, but even more impressed with Jack. It was a severe hike and we was walking up the granite slope like he was walking to recess. Before long we were all at the top of the hill and ready to descend into the valley. As I looked at the amazing view that being this high afforded us, it dawned on me... How many people have exclusive bragging rights to climbing Enchanted rock at two years of age. I looked at Jack and scooped him up to give his face kisses, trying to take in as much of the moment as I could. Yes, I am a proud mother, but seriously that's quite an accomplishment. One I am sure to be telling the story for years to come.... And with an boo boo to boot. Jack. You go boy!!! Mommy's proud :)
This weekend, however, I saw a very different, very brave little boy. Until, that is, the scary monsters slipped into his tent while he was sleeping (but that's a story for another time) On our camping trip to E-Rock this past weekend, I was exponentially impressed by my toddler’s capacity for hiking. Hiking while injured, to point a fact.
I’m not sure if you are aware, but when you use a portable grill for making breakfast tacos, just because you shut the lid does not mean that the grill is no longer hot. In fact, it is the quite the opposite, and my fumbly, Rubbermaid, caterpillar-chasing, Calvin doppleganger of a son found this out the hard way as he went skipping past the grill and for a brief second, put his soft fleshy hand on the lid for support. 3….2….1…. wait for it... He smiled...... then ….but no!….oh my gosh that f***ing hurtzzzzz!!!!……"MOMMY MY BOO BOO!!!!!!” He came screaming to me with tears in his eyes.
I comforted him a while and wrapped his hand with a wet cloth after applying some bactin to the red swollen circle on his palm. He just cried and cried and begged for kisses for the sum total of about five minutes and then the skies cleared and he was good-to-go!
Amazing the resilience on that kid.
So we loaded up and took the trek to the summit of “E”-Rock. Jack’s hand, wrapped in a pink bandana, was carrying the ever-faithful brunket. Jack was dressed in a green and blue shirt and a pair of shorts that could’ve doubled as baggy pants.
At first it was slow going. It’s been over a decade since the last time I did any kind of hiking and I am pretty sure that I needed oxygen and physical assistance to walk at some point . So, I had some apprehensions on how I would perform. Not to mention a whole other set of worries on the performance of a miniature genetic replica of myself. It didn’t take long for me to get into the “Drag your feet in that gravel one more time and I am gonna karate chop your adam’s apple” kind of mood. I started the day carrying Jack because the path was rocky and the granite that makes up e-rock was slick from the rain the night before. It was hard enough for me to maneuver, but the slippery slopes would of resulted in a massive injury for Jack. Luckily before long the trail smoothed out and the weather warmed and dried the rock so I was able to let Jack walk on his own and focus on my own ascent up the hill. It was a 45 degree incline towards the top of the hill and over a thousand feet up.
The burn in my legs felt good and the air in my lungs was a happy reminder of one of the many reasons that kicking the cigarette habit was such an amazing thing in my life. I was impressed with myself, but even more impressed with Jack. It was a severe hike and we was walking up the granite slope like he was walking to recess. Before long we were all at the top of the hill and ready to descend into the valley. As I looked at the amazing view that being this high afforded us, it dawned on me... How many people have exclusive bragging rights to climbing Enchanted rock at two years of age. I looked at Jack and scooped him up to give his face kisses, trying to take in as much of the moment as I could. Yes, I am a proud mother, but seriously that's quite an accomplishment. One I am sure to be telling the story for years to come.... And with an boo boo to boot. Jack. You go boy!!! Mommy's proud :)
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