I remember looking forward to going on those family car vacations. As summer approached and school ended, I knew one day my dad would announce out of the blue, "get packed - we're outa here." Where that would be, none of us would ever know until we got there. Always unplanned, always an adventure. It would drive my mother insane not to have an agenda. We would pack a cooler of food and drinks, my brother would sit on one side of the back seat, and me on the other both careful not to cross the dreaded seam in the middle that defined our "space." I fully blame my father for my wanderlust desire.
Although I completely enjoyed the ride, I remember many times driving by an attraction or two that we all wanted to visit: The Caves in Tennesee, The Corn Palace in South Dakota, etc. But my father in his desire to be a vagabond was intent on enjoying the open road. I often wonder how much we missed out in those little lost moments. I do know when we were forced to stop along the way to get gas or to have a bite to eat, we met some pretty interesting people saw some pretty interesting things (full size wood Indian at a North Dakota Diner, an antler chair and log cabin in Canada).
I am reminded of these "lost moments" today when my children get "lost" in their own moments. Many times I've experienced guilt about pushing on through the day as I hurried my children to school when they were engrossed in picking up rocks, or grabbed their hand rushing them out of a down pour as they were intent on catching a rain drop off the eave of our roof.
Today was different - we stopped at a "site" and we enjoyed every delicious moment of it. Today it snowed in Dallas. It was a soft feathery light wonderful snow with flakes large and gentle. I knew it was upon us before they woke up. As they wandered one by one into our bedroom with that slow gaited sleepy walk, I took their hand and brought them to the window. I watched the reflection of their eyes in the window pane growing from half open to saucers as they gazed out in wonder. Now at this point, still in my pajamas, I had no intention of getting bundled up and having a full on family snowfest at 7 a.m. But as the morning progressed, and I was about to push through the day and leave for work, I saw that my girls (2 1/2 and almost 5) had dressed themselves, and did a pretty good job of it too considering. They begged to play in the snow. Now mind you I grew up in the mid-west, Minnesota to be exact, and a day like today was no "site." But the look in their eyes and the determination that I saw in my 5yo helping her little sister dress made me reconsider.
This was a "site." This was their "site." And I was determined not to let them miss this wonderful adventure. So together we went hand-in-hand-in-hand and built the most magnificent snow princess, complete with a carrot nose and grape eyes (that kept popping out, which brought endless giggles). We then progressed to a snow fight before I had to leave for work. As I was about to leave them with DD - my almost 5yo said "one more time mommy?" And you know what? By God we did it, every wonderful fun-filled moment of it all over again!
Although I completely enjoyed the ride, I remember many times driving by an attraction or two that we all wanted to visit: The Caves in Tennesee, The Corn Palace in South Dakota, etc. But my father in his desire to be a vagabond was intent on enjoying the open road. I often wonder how much we missed out in those little lost moments. I do know when we were forced to stop along the way to get gas or to have a bite to eat, we met some pretty interesting people saw some pretty interesting things (full size wood Indian at a North Dakota Diner, an antler chair and log cabin in Canada).
I am reminded of these "lost moments" today when my children get "lost" in their own moments. Many times I've experienced guilt about pushing on through the day as I hurried my children to school when they were engrossed in picking up rocks, or grabbed their hand rushing them out of a down pour as they were intent on catching a rain drop off the eave of our roof.
Today was different - we stopped at a "site" and we enjoyed every delicious moment of it. Today it snowed in Dallas. It was a soft feathery light wonderful snow with flakes large and gentle. I knew it was upon us before they woke up. As they wandered one by one into our bedroom with that slow gaited sleepy walk, I took their hand and brought them to the window. I watched the reflection of their eyes in the window pane growing from half open to saucers as they gazed out in wonder. Now at this point, still in my pajamas, I had no intention of getting bundled up and having a full on family snowfest at 7 a.m. But as the morning progressed, and I was about to push through the day and leave for work, I saw that my girls (2 1/2 and almost 5) had dressed themselves, and did a pretty good job of it too considering. They begged to play in the snow. Now mind you I grew up in the mid-west, Minnesota to be exact, and a day like today was no "site." But the look in their eyes and the determination that I saw in my 5yo helping her little sister dress made me reconsider.
This was a "site." This was their "site." And I was determined not to let them miss this wonderful adventure. So together we went hand-in-hand-in-hand and built the most magnificent snow princess, complete with a carrot nose and grape eyes (that kept popping out, which brought endless giggles). We then progressed to a snow fight before I had to leave for work. As I was about to leave them with DD - my almost 5yo said "one more time mommy?" And you know what? By God we did it, every wonderful fun-filled moment of it all over again!
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment