The kids are what I call outdoorsy types. They get cranky when they’re cooped up at home too long, and their restlessness will manifest itself in a remarkable variety of ways. Truett will slump on the floor and look like he’s in actual pain from boredom. Kirsten will stage yet another fashion parade trying on dress after dress before tossing them everywhere. They’ll take turns to stare wistfully down the corridor and ask to be let out of the house.
“Can we bring Mickey down for a walk?”
“How about we go to the playground?”
“I know! We can go swimming, that would be fun right?”
“I think we need to go for an adventure.”
On weekdays, we’re usually too tired or busy to lug everyone out for an adventure but because they love it so much, we try to reserve the weekends for a little bit of outdoorsy time, even if it’s just to the beach or the park nearby.
Truth be told, I’d much prefer to spend my weekends curled up in bed with a good book and a cup of coffee but then I look at their excited little faces and next thing I know, I’m out in the blistering heat chasing after the kids and watching them enjoy little moments. Moments I know I’ll remember years later when I’m curled up in bed because they’d much rather be off hanging out with friends instead.
The way I see it, we’ve got 52 weekends with the kids before another year passes us by. That’s not a lot considering that some of those weekends will be spent on boring obligatory functions or work-related stuff. So we’ll take whatever quality time we have with the kids and make them count.
Hopefully years down the road, they’ll remember it too.