Early Bird Adventure

Yesterday I woke up at 6:22.  I was in bed, bored out of my mind and eager to get the day cranking.  Being a night owl and always jealous of those early birds, I was surprised by my attitude.  In my book, getting out of bed every morning is a huge accomplishment in need of praise.  

I got up.  I got showered, dressed, teeth brushed, face put on, baby nursed, and ready to carpe the heck out of the diem.  At 8:10, I couldn't take it anymore and decided that we were going on an adventure.  I made, ate, and cleaned up breakfast.  Changed two diapers and one outfit and told Burl to get ready because we were going on an adventure to the woods.  One of his favorite words being go, he was excited.

By 8:40 we were pulling out of the driveway and headed to a nature park.  Before 9, we were in the middle of the woods.  Here's the thing about being in the middle of the woods for me: my mind goes straight to excitement and adventure.  To the max.  I'm searching the landscape for deer.  I convince myself that one of the last of the mohicans is watching me, studying my every move.  It's like I'm in Sherwood forest and Robin Hood and Little John are just over the hill making some sweet forts and boobie traps.  (Is that how boobie traps is spelled?  It just seems wrong in so many ways.  This coming from the girl who just learned that a prima donna is not a pre-madonna.)  

Yep, I just typed boobies, not once, but three times.  This post is klassy, alright, but I can promise that it just nose dives from here.  

Now, about those woods.  Taking the kids outside is about the coolest thing ever.  My kids are like most kids in that they totally chill out when we're there.  

Burl learns how to walk on ground that is not paved.  As he walks around searching for treasures, playing in the rock bed (aka, dried-up-creek), he's learning balance and catching himself.  It's like gymnastics, outdoorsy style.  If we're going to be a rock climbing family, then he needs some practice now.

And little Fern was just as happy as could be.  She was all smiles and coo's the whole time.  Whether she was riding in the stroller or being yanked around while I fooled with the self-timer for a group shot, Fern was happy.  Nature, you rock.

A little further down the path, Burl found another rock bed (aka dry creek) that he wanted to play in.  A mossy tree with a whole became very interesting.  And this is where things get really klassy.  We were about a mile away from the parking lot, visitors center, and well, restrooms.  Ladies, when nature calls, ya gotta answer.  I popped a squat.  Right there.  And there is something freeing and exciting and rowdy about having to use nature's bathroom.  I was so proud that I texted a bunch of friends: just squat-pee'd in the forest and it's not even noon.   Most of my friends questioned what the heck I was doing in the woods that early in the day, and one friend got it.  She texted, "that always makes me feel legit and hardcore."  Poignant.  

Since all dignity was lost at this point, I figured, "well, it's about time to nurse Fern, let's just do it right here."  I sat on a rock and nursed her.  Without a nursing cover.  In the open.  Not my style, but a mama's gotta do what a mama's gotta do.  And what happened next, shocked me to death.  I hadn't seen a soul the whole time I was on that trail.  Next thing I notice, a home school group doing an outdoor science project walks up.  All boys.  While I'm nursing.  Ok, not really.  No one walked by at all, but I know that at least one of you just gasped and covered your mouth.

Eventually we packed it up and headed home around 10:15.  We were all pretty worn out.  Fern went right down as soon as we got home and Burl was almost asleep even though he doesn't take morning naps anymore.  Because I had pretty much rocked my mother role for the day and given him enough adventure, I popped him in front of the TV and he laid (or is it lied, mom, can you send me the lie/lay rules again?)  there and watched TV for quite a while.  I made another cup of coffee and did things around the house.  

Eventually, Fern woke up and it was time to go again.  I dressed her in a new little outfit and thought she looked so sweet that I put her on the couch for some pictures.  What does Burl do? Hop right up there to get in on the action.  This mama can't resist some sibling pics.

These days, the biggest block of time that we have to go anywhere is around lunchtime, between Fern's morning and afternoon naps.  Often, we found ourselves eating places other than home.  Sometimes I'm smart and we eat a picnic or eat with friends, but sometimes I expose us to the horrors of fast food.  We can eat at Wendy's for $4.33 and I don't have to clean up afterwards.  That's what we did on this day.

We've done this a few times before, and I'm not sure that we can keep doing it.  A lot of men come in to eat at this particular one, and these days, Burl likes to point them out and call them daddies.  Especially if they're wearing boots.  This day was no different.  Burl was googly-eyed for these two guys with boots AND hats.  They were across the restaurant and he kept staring, pointing and yelling "da-ee!"  I eventually explained to them why Burl was yelling that at them, we got into a lite conversation (across the restaurant) and next thing I know one of them is yelling "oh I done learn my lesson.  I'm paying child support on six different kids, I done got myself fixed.  No really-I did."  And I just laughed.  Not, polite-I'm going to laugh-cause-you're-laughing.  No, I laughed hard.  Because it's not every day that a girl hears that.  Across the restaurant in Wendy's.

And all this happened because I woke up at 6:22 ready to carpe the heck out of this diem.  Well, diem, you got me.  Good one.