We return home after a day of adventuring. My oldest unbuckles her seatbelt and comes climbing into the front seat. I send her out the passenger door and unbuckle her brother who is yelling in the backseat to be released. The toddler, red cheeked and sweaty, fell asleep on the ride home. I sigh because I know it’s going to be a long night. I let her sleep until I empty the car. As I unload, the earthy smell of mud caked boots and the sweet scent of rosemary, cedarwood, and citronella fills the air. The kids race inside with their skinned knees and bruised shins. Their fingertips and nails are black from the soil of the forest floor where they turned over logs to search for bugs and caught frogs just for fun.
Their rough, callused hands graze my leg as they pass me by. I watch them as they ascend the stairs and notice how the sun has tanned their skin and lightened their hair. They’ve been digging and climbing, jumping and dreaming. I take a breath before waking the toddler and reflect on the magic that occurred that day. I don’t know how many more years I’ll have with them home and adventuring with me. No day is without struggle or disagreements, but these days are precious. As they beckon for me to come inside to turn on their show, I remember that in between the hardships lies beauty. This is the life I had dreamed of. I wake a hot and sleepy toddler and juggle her body along with all the bottles of water. The kids’ tired, grubby bodies flop onto the couch for a moment of rest. I am exhausted from carrying the little one for a mile through the woods and being the source of food and drink, but I am full of gratitude to have spent a whole day in nature with my people. In 11 years my oldest will be 18 and 16 until the youngest. Is it true what they say? You only have 18 Summers? 7 years went by in a blink and I feel the passing of time like the heaviest of weights. I mourn the years that have gone but also delight in the years to come. I turn on an episode of The Wild Kratts and start a load of laundry. Even after the adventure, a mother’s work is never done but it’s the most fulfilling work to do.
