We needed a purposeful day of exactly the opposite of that. A day where we load up the SUV and drive ten minutes down the highway to the place where our phones, showing 'no service', become useless trinkets. Where, a few minutes after that, the road turns to dirt and the national forest beckons. A day to truly relax, enjoy the quiet moments, get back to the basics. To focus on us. Just trees, bees, and chipmunks picking off our picnic leftovers. A clear, crisp river flowing over rocks, just shallow enough for little kids to explore. (In life jackets and in arms' reach, obvi.) Rocks to collect and flowers to pick and mud to squish between little toes. A tent not meant for sleeping overnight (not yet), just meant to excite kids to whom a tent means "WE ARE REAL CAMPERS". Marshmallows, not roasted for fear of fires, just stuck on sticks. A toy truck gathering pinecones and sticks, a new card game to learn, dirt smeared little hands grabbing into the shared bag of Pirate's Booty. J and I, toasting to our adventure and our anniversary week and how far we've come in these nine years. And our sweet, happy kids in various stages of undress as swimsuits lie drying out on rocks and last pairs of clean underpants end up full of dirt and discarded beside the tent. It was a perfectly imperfect unplugged day. It really, really was. And it will be repeated.
|chippy was a big fan of the snacks.|
the kids were a big fan of chippy.
This was before we left. With an absurd amount of gear, but whatever. Here, we'd just told Vivian we said "camping," not "glamping." And she was like "WAIT WHAT?"