Light posting this week; it’s Spring Break for my boys, and since my schedule is more self-determined this year than in the previous three years of consulting on contracts with strict hours, I am spending most of the days with my boys.
We’ve gone fishing, and we’ve gone to the Springfield Nature Center so far. You know, ever since they could walk, we’ve been going to the Nature Center. A couple of times a year in the old days. I think we’ve skipped some years, but we went last summer and again this year. There’s a bench on the Fox Bluff trail that I insist they sit on every time, so I have a series of pictures that shows them growing up. Aside from that, the only pictures I tend to get are when I drop behind them and catch them as they walk.
You start out carrying them.
Then you ‘walk’ them by pushing them in wheeled conveyances.
The you walk with them, ever faster.
Eventually, they want to walk on their own, a little ahead or a little behind you, because they’re big enough to do that now, but still close.
Then, if you succeed as a parent, they walk away.
I wonder if there’s a poem in that, or if it’s too true for poetry.
