Have a dressed up day!

Saturday, November 28, 2009

A Weekend in the Wild

When our girls were small we camped every year.  They loved it, I loved it.  Then, as they grew older and softer, more girly and busier, our trips slacked up.

As my bladder began to prematurely age, I didn't argue about the less frequent trips camping. I needed less frequent trips elsewhere, if you get my drift, before I'd push for a camping trip again.  But I did miss them - and not to mention how much Izzy was missing out  and now there is Max -who, according to his bigwig of a daddy - WILL. LOVE. THE. OUT. OF. DOORS.

Chlorine was the answer to my problem.  I'm allergic.  Chlorine is used in mass production to whiten undies, bleach toilet paper, and bleach feminium products.  Chlorine is not removed from purified water - which is what I drank. 

I discovered Seventh Generation's products, all chlorine free, their filter systems and shower filters.  Did you know that if you take a hot shower with steam, you breathe in tremendous amounts of chlorine from the steam?

Changed that part of my life and now I can camp again. 

Last weekend our family had a get-a-way to Tishimingo State Park.  It was lovely.  We were blessed enough to get a cabin and not have to camp.























































On our second day we went boulder climbing and repeling. The weather was beautiful and He's Too Good To Me had come home.  I know how the wheels turn in that handsome head of his, and I know he was bouncing around ideas on how to never leave this place.





















Daughters Shelby and Izzy are created in his image. Beautiful, brave, strong, daring - I can do it if you can do it kind of gals. Boulder climbing and repeling - that's what they came for.


My head is bouncing around with ideas on why I'm on a swinging bridge -miles, y'all - above water.  A bridge that, I'm guessing, might need a little repair. 














That can't really be duct tape holding that together, right?  He's Too Good To Me assured me it's just a little fraying.  Help me, someone.






















Then there is daughter Delia, made more in my image. Beautiful, dreamer, bug-hater, I don't want to do it even if you can - inside kind of gal.

While most everyone was happy boulder climbing she was hanging around with Max and me on lower land.  Why?  Because a helmet would mess up her hair.

Wanting a little moment with honey, her boyfriend up top, she decided to climb.  There is not much else to say but . . .

squeals and "AW!  DEL" ---- camera falls.  The rush of wind as honey Ruben sprinted down, quickly.




That rock fell right onto her hand and foot, scraping them both badly.  I fought every mama urge in me to baby her, stroke her hair, dry her tears, spit and clean the wound.  It begins a smile on my face when I realize I know my daughter so well that I can tell by the look on her face what would be best for her at that moment.  The smile sags to a frown when I see that what I want to do is not what will help at the moment.

Let me tell you, casual concern for my children no one ever gave me a PhD in.  Only life can teach you that one day you might embarrass your children, or worse yet, that they would choose someone else over you.  A battle for several years now has been raging in me to stop the babying and let them be.  yuk, I hate it.  What if they forget how well I comfort and fix while they are playing the growing up game?

We decided to take Delia shopping, to make her feel better, in the town-of-no-stores.

Plan B.

Back to the room for hot chocolate and burgers and chicken and sweet potato fries. In no time she was laughing and playing board games, while not letting up on her baby sister who so wanted to win.













These are my babies.  And all seven of us - remember, honey came - built fires, cuddled, told jokes, teased,  shared one bathroom and one bedroom, and got on each other's nerves, slightly.  And I can't leave out how well Shelby fed us all.

We'll do this again -differently- with more helmet hair next time, an extra bedroom, and an alarm. 

We'll do this again -not differently- I will be there, with my same memories of little steps from the past, memories of having to hold and help.  The same battle raging inside. 

Next time - this one gets to repel.  Don't you think he's ready? He sure thought so.























Drawing of me losing my cool courtesy of budding artist, Izzy.


Have a dressed up day!


. . . put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Colossians 3:12