The vacation started off as most for our family. I pushed hard to organize and plan, make sure the boys packed the necessary items in their suitcases. I chose not to cringe at the pile of clean, crumpled clothing bunched into their pullmans.
This parenting gig is so much more than what I thought in the days of dealing with infertility. I had idealistic notions of what it would be like to be called, “Mommy.”
On a family vacation a few years ago, the boys strapped on roller skates for the first time. Peter, being the adventurer he is, took a few spins around the rink clinging to the wall. Then he was ready to try it without the aid of said wall.
Skiing down a double diamond black run. Sky diving. Rock climbing. Zip lining. Mountain climbing. Tent camping. These all fall under the category, “Adventure” in my book. With the exception of tent camping (which I last did about eighteen years ago), and skiing (blue runs and one black, once. By accident), I have yet to attempt any of these activities.