It's not that I haven't taken the kids out since Phoebe's been born, because I have. We've just...always gone the very same place, just a two minute drive from our house, with paved trails the stroller can handle, and plenty of playground areas to choose from should we stumble upon a crowded one, and...basically what I'm saying is that I've simply been repeatedly choosing the absolutely easiest outing possible for the last, oh, six months or so.
If not longer.
The past year has been a full year. I wouldn't say that it's been bad, but it has been full. Sometimes with heavy stuff, sometimes with lovely stuff. Sometimes with lovely stuff that is heavy, sometimes with heavy stuff that is lovely, sometimes with unlovely heavy stuff. That's how years seem to pass.
But today I was feeling pretty adventurous (I've more-or-less finished my final projects so have some room to breathe) so I let the kids talk me into visiting Jones Bridge Park, where I knew we'd mostly just get wet (which is okay).
When we piled out of the van and were walking through the parking lot, Benjamin said, "I can't hear the river yet, which means it can't be too full, which means it should be fine to get in!"
I told him to just cool his jets and to not run ahead and we'd decide about the river when we could see it.
As it turns out, he was right! The river was perfect for wading in!
Trout and these little crawdads seem to like the water that chilly:
My kids weren't exactly shy about getting in, either:
Though a few did attempt some sensible wading with boots on at first:
Others of us were immediately less sensible:
Here's the (initially) sensible crowd:
And here's Benjamin trying to convince himself to dunk his entire body in the water (he eventually did, but it took some doing because that water is cold):