Glen Ellis Falls

Last month, we hit the glorious White Mountains for a 3-day vacation with some good friends, Ben and Jenn Iverson and Andrus and Kelly Shaw Madsen.  Six adults, 7 kids (all 5 and under), and 3 terrific days of fun. We mostly spent the time at Story Land or hanging out in a condo right across from the park.  The kids got along great and loved being at Story Land. It was the perfect time of year to go--for some, school was already back, so there weren't huge crowds.

The Iversons had the brilliant idea of doing something beyond the amusement park, though. Their suggestion: Hit up a waterfall and a cool little place in North Conway that serves breakfast. It was a lot of fun to break the trip up with an outdoorsy/nature activity that got everyone outside, got us all to break a sweat, and get into nature.

We drove north of Story Land to find Glen Ellis Falls. It was fantastic!

Fellow Laytonians Jenn and Becky. Jenn's little boy Sam was a trooper the whole time.
 

Our Goose and Mouse, relaxing after the hike in. Goose hiked the whole way in by herself. I cannot report the same for her little sister sidekick.

Goose and Henry really hit it off at the waterfall. 

The Iverson clan. It was a great time hanging out with them these three days. Having friends along made the trip made the mini-vacation more enjoyable. Not that our previous 4 (yes, 4) Story Land visits were trips to dullsville, but having adult friends along added a new element of bonding and fun for Becky and me.

The Moose's first outdoors experience. We think he liked it, though his stoicism keeps us guessing.

The Wee Wilson Warriors at Glen Ellis Falls.  

Couldn't resist a scenic shot sans kids. I would strongly recommend tacking on an outdoors adventure to any future vacations we take. It gave us adults something to look forward to beyond the confines of the amusement park, fun though it definitely is. Being outside, breathing clean air, hanging out with friends, and seeing a natural wonder made this hike a highlight of our summer.

A little boy's first suit

We broke out Moose's first suit this past Sunday. He was the talk of our congregation when he wore it to church. He looked smashing, don't you think? It's just too bad that in about a month, he will have outgrown these smart-looking threads. But we're loving seeing him in these cute outfits while they last!

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday to the absolute best person in my life! I'm grateful for every birthday, and every day, that we get to spend together.

Seriously?

I'd love to be able to peek inside a child's mind at times like these. "Hey, let's push this cart up the slide! Sounds good?" That's the mastermind Mouse in the pink outfit, with her friend egging her on.    





Snowplow and old train station

Before I get to a post about our awesome 3-day vacation in New Hampshire with friends, here's one about a cool side-trip we took on the way home. Our Mighty Moose needed to nurse, so we pulled off the highway in the White Mountains. It was a day when you could really feel the seasons changing one into another. Fall is on its way.

While Becky tended to Moose, our girls and I went for a walk in this quiet village called Union (population: about 200). American flags fluttered from front porches. Pickup trucks rolled by. And suddenly, our girls and I stood looking at a picturesque train station, and an old snowplow in front of it. We were all interested in exploring it.

As luck would have it, one of Union's preservationists was at the old train station next to the snowplow. He let us inside the plow, and then invited us to visit the restored, working train station. We had a blast inside here, too. The preservationist, bless him, explained the history of the depot in excruciating detail. Our girls were much more into exploring the inner workings.

It was a cool way to spend part of this summer afternoon. The train station stop broke up our drive home, and gave all of us some fun memories. If we had not needed to get home for bedtime, our Goose and Mouse likely could have easily spent an hour or so playing at the ticket window and on the old typewriter. We might never pass through Union again, but it was a fun stop on our own journey.

First Day of Pre-School

And she's off! Our Dear Goose somehow went from the first baby we brought home, about a year ago it seems, to heading off to pre-School. She was so ready for school. Our wonderful neighbors took her and Mouse school clothes shopping the weekend before, and Goose picked out this dress herself. She liked it so much, she wore it on her first and second days of school.

I swear these years have mostly gone by in a flash. It is times like this that make me feel glad that I've got a 40-plus pages-long journal of her life so far. Hopefully someday, she and our other children will be interested to read or skim it.

Goose did great all morning. As the clocked ticked closer to her going off to college first day of pre-School, she kept asking, "Is it time to go?" I kept thinking, "Is there any way to turn back time, or at least slow it down?" It was a selfish attitude on my part. How could I be sad when she was so ready and so excited for this awesome new chapter in her life? We had taken a tour of her classroom the week before, and Goose just went right in, checking out all of the toys and meeting some of her class mates.

Lining up outside the school. I love this photo. Goose jumped into conversations but, every minute or so, would leave the group of kids to come over to me, Becky, and her siblings. She'd push me, or talk to Becky. We both expected that, if Goose were ever to melt down about the uncertainties of school or the new routine, this would be the moment. Instead, she pleasantly surprised us and fit right in. When she heard someone mention T-ball, she quickly added, "I play T-ball at Staci's house!"

Cool shades, huh? These are the only ones I could find, as that crinkly-nosed joker in the blue dress hid my real sunglasses the night before Goose's big day. I had to wear these to hide the tracks of my tears [somewhere among my top 25 favorites songs ever]. Becky joked, "You might one day remember this day only because of the ridiculous glasses you wore!" I had spent the entire morning holding back tears--mostly successfully, but sometimes not.

Once all of the bused kids arrived at school, Goose got in a single-file line and waved bye to us. She didn't even look back once the line started moving. I was glad for that. It showed me that she felt confident and focused. I couldn't believe this was the same girl who had desperately battled to get out of our church's 2-hour Nursery class every blessed Sunday from the time she turned 18 months old until the time she turned 3. I'm not exaggerating that point. Becky and I stood along the brick wall of the school, watching our first child head inside and off on a new grand adventure.

Meanwhile, that Crinkly-Nosed Joker gave us plenty to laugh about! Happy first day of pre-School, Dear Goose!

Church at home

A few weeks ago, pesky Hurricane/tropical storm Irene hit New England. Now, I've lived through Hurricane Gloria (the massive one that took my hurricane virginity) in '85, and Hurricane Bob. Somehow, you always remember your first time more, right? With Gloria, my parents, sister, and I spent most of that September day in our basement, listening to a radio. We lost power for days. Hurricane Bob? I have no recollection of it. No idea if we rode out the storm in my parents' basement, or stayed upstairs. I don't have a clue if we lost power or not. Typical teenager!

As Irene bore down on New England one weekend in late August, I was excited. Yes, excited. It was fun to tell my girls what precautions I took when I was little for Gloria, and how I was scared but that Nana and Bumpa reassured me that all would be well. My Idaho-born wife had never experienced a U.S.  hurricane before, but she surely saw some typhoons while serving her mission in the Philippines.

We decided on Saturday that we would stay home on Sunday and ride out whatever hit us as a family, and make fun memories of this home-time. Later that night, church for Sunday was canceled. We would not have gone anyhow. We woke up, watched heavy rains pelt our house and street, and were mesmerized by the high winds.

The best part of the morning? Holding church in our home. One little girl donned her pink bathing suit about 15 minutes after she woke up, while the other couldn't bear to part with her pajamas.

Becky fashioned this pulpit out of a Luvs diaper box tipped on its side, and rammed a Swifer dust broom into a handle in the box for a mic. We propped the box on a steep stool for Our Little Mouse when she wanted to say a few words.

 

Our Dear Goose is destined to become a comfortable speaker in front of others, someday. She marched up to the makeshift podium like she owned the joint. Sure, she has a much different approach (the silent, unbudging one) when she has been asked to give a prayer in Primary in real life, but give it time. She would speak for a few moments, reluctantly cede the stand to Mommy or me or Mouse, and then creep back into our business.

When she found out that I'd filled the downstairs tub with water in case we lost power, Goose didn't care so much for the "why" of my explanation. She was more eager to hear if she could splash around in there. In fact, Irene was such a relatively light hurricane (and I know other families had it much worse, unfortunately) that we broke our cabin fever by trooping to our friends Ben and Jen's house in the afternoon. 

First family hurricane? Check. Glad that we were spared damage? Double-check.   

Kite

In summer I can taste the salt in the sea; there's a kite blowin' out of control on a breeze. "Kite," U2.

This song played over and over in my mind one day two weeks ago, when I had a day off and Becky and I took our three rug rats to Castle Island in South Boston. It has been one of my favorite songs by anyone since I first heard it in October 2000. It was, of course, in a way only natural to have this as the theme of our day trip--at least the literal sense of flying a kite. Bono wrote the song after flying kites with his own daughters and thinking ahead to a time when his children would be grown up and going out into the world.

It's always struck me as melancholy and nostalgic.

However, this sparkling late summer afternoon was the opposite of melancholy and nostalgic. It was simply one of the best moments I've ever experienced, as a father and a husband and a person. A bit much? A stretch? You might think. But no, I was there. I thanked God for letting me experience this moment. This experience was serene and moving and a total blast of fun.

We flew a simple little kite under a peerless bright-blue sky, and felt the cool Atlantic Ocean breeze, and smelled the salt of the sea, and our feet squished the greenest green grass on a four centuries old fort. We let the sun give each of us a little burn, on our legs and the backs of our necks. Our little Mouse cried with fright that the kite would fly away, and maybe take her or her big sister along with it on its sojourn into the sky. Shoes kicked off and left here-and-there on the sprawling lawn. Our infant boy slept through much of the moment.

If a picture ever captured the fun and wonder and carefreeness of childhood for our family, this might be the winner (above). I stood out of Goose's path as she ran willy-nilly around Castle Island, with the kite rope tightly in her little fist. She yelped. She hollered. She was oblivious to the other marvels of the air--the massive airplanes descending right over our heads and landing a mile away at Logan Airport.  

Nobody lives life with a more "get out and have fun" attitude than Becky. No one. Thanks for being the one for me, babe!

 

I finally got wise to ditch the camera and spend more time in the moment. Just me and my oldest little girl, on the grass, watching her prized kite dance across the heavens above. This was a moment of pure pride and joy. It was a cherished blessing.

What a powerful bonding day for our little brood. It was a day, a series of moments, that I will always treasure. Our girls laughed and danced and ran around. Becky encouraged all of their good ideas and joined in the fun when she wasn't checking in on our little lad. I sought the right balance of living in the moment while documenting some of it for our future enjoyment. We were all in great moods. We didn't keep track of the time. We had nowhere else to go we would rather have been.

I just have a feeling that this day will be one I'll always look back on with complete satisfaction and love for our family. And I'll forever be trying to recollect each singularly rich moment. Well, that's the nostalgia of "Kite," and of our kite day.

I don't know, which way the wind will blow.