The kids and I have been making lots of trips down to the creek to splash around in the water. One of our favorite things to do is build up stone walls in the shallow currents. My youngest child is particularly fond of this, and becomes fully absorbed in the activity. He'll sometimes pick up a stone that is too heavy for him, and I'll gently suggest, "Roll it. Roll it in the water." I'll model this for him, and then watch as he adds on to his wall with ease. After working for a while, he'll step back and look at the whole thing, and implores all of us to do the same. With his arms folded, he smiles gently, in awe of what he has built with his own two hands.
The other two kids enjoy swimming in the deeper parts; the best place we've found is a spot where two branches of the creek meet, where the water is about four and a half feet deep. My daughter has been giving the dog swimming lessons. They have grown quite accustomed to the whole routine.
One afternoon last week I took the boys up to Amish country. I had an assignment for work and decided to tow part of the gang along. After a long car ride and an hour outdoors in the sun, the kids had had enough. The seven year old started whining for a Slurpee. He was almost to tears. I knew there was no place in sight to buy such a thing, and was glad that it didn't become a, "Mom, you never buy us anything good," conversation. Rather, we were poised to seek out a solution together, and focused on the task of finding a cold drink.
A few miles down the road we found a gas station, clean as a whistle, with a huge market garden to its side. This place had fresh corn, tomatoes, peaches and other fare for sale right there inside the store. Apparently they've been doing things this way since 1985. I let the kids each have a root beer, and ordered up some french fries to enjoy outside. We enjoyed our treat in the shade of a large, clean pavilion. There was a wonderful breeze blowing up the hillside, and the kids played on a swing set after their snack was done.
"I will never forget this day, Mom," my seven year old said. By this time we were snacking on ripe, juicy peaches.
"Oh really, why is that?"
"This is the day you bought us soda and french fries!"
We both grinned.
