Wednesday, November 16, 2011

The Fulfillment Project Bares It All

Yesterday I left off and we were here.

It was beautiful. We were on a hike. I was trying not to worry about what we'd find at the end of hike.

The kids, predictably, reached the end of the trail first. “Come on mom,” my daughter shouted. There were wooden tubs grouped together against the side of the hill. They overlooked the verdant stream and forest on one side, on the other there was a small hot spring that had been diverted into pipes.

But honestly, the beauty of nature wasn’t holding my attention at the moment. I realized that, as I had anticipated, we were not the only ones who had hiked forty minutes on this particular misty November Saturday. There was a large group of people, post-college era, all gathered in a large pool. And they were all nude. That's what I saw, but Child #2 saw something different.
He saw the group had a dog that looked a whole lot like his best friend’s dog. Regular followers of this blog will know that Child #2 will talk to anyone. In the time it took me and my husband to descend the steps he had already begun to quiz the post-college crowd about their dog.
"What’s his name?"
"Does he get excited and chase his tail?"
"How old is he?"
"Does he have any doggy friends?"
"Our friend’s dog is named Buster. Sometimes his tongue hangs out when he gets hot.”
The thing about my kids is they’re sort of two for the price of one. If Child #2 breaks the ice, Child #1 is never far behind, offering her own opinions and thoughts to the conversation.

So there they were, my two children quizzing a group of naked college students about the care and keeping of a large black Labrador. Everyone seemed fine. What had I been worried about? 

And then, sort of like the extra credit on my Yes project, someone dropped a water bottle over the edge. One of the boys hopped out to fetch it. My daughter glanced at me, raised one eloquent eyebrow and then without missing a beat went back to her conversation about whether dogs prefer to drink warm or cold water.
Later that night, when we were safely home, the kids fed and bathed I asked my daughter if she had any questions about anything she’d seen during our hike. “It’s kind of a silly question,” she said. “It makes me feel a little shy.”
“Whatever it is, I promise I won’t laugh."
“Well,” she hesitated and giggled. Then she leaned in close and whispered in my ear. “Do you think it’s possible that fairies might really have left the glitter dust we found in the woods?”

10 comments:

CPatLarge said...

Lovely story! Good for you, Mom ;-)

And for the little one.

Singularity said...

Excellent post :-)

Valerie Douglas said...

Loved that! You're raising healthy well-adjusted kids! Beautiful.

Kathleen Barker said...

The perfect confirmation that you are doing a wonderful job, Mommy! Loved the innocence that shone through...

Johanna Garth said...

Thanks CP and Shawn!

Valerie, here's hoping, right?

Kathleen, I know...it was very sweet.

Connie J Jasperson said...

When I read yesterday's post, I couldn't wait for todays post! You are an amazing woman, and your children are lucky to have you for their mother. For the rest of their life, there are going to be situations where they need to know that you will answer all ther questions as honestly as you know how. Bravo!!!

Alex J. Cavanaugh said...

Kids only see what they can understand!
Wonder what the college kids talked about that night?

Elizabeth said...

Lovely Blog.

NEW FOLLOWER

Elizabeth

http://silversolara.blogspot.com

Johanna Garth said...

Aww, thanks Connie!!

Alex, I would have loved to be privy to that conversation.

Elizabeth, thanks so much and WELCOME!

Sarah Pearson said...

This was wonderful. Confirmation that you are doing an excellent job :-)