Adams Canyon

Several weeks ago, Freestone made the statement that "Saturdays are so boring."  I stopped and realized that, although some of the other kids have things on Saturday, Freestone has the whole day free.  On the Friday night that he made that statement, he was dreading the upcoming boredom.

I could relate to feeling despondent about having nothing to do.  I said, "Why don't you get up early with me, and we'll drop Araceli off at orchestra and go do something fun."  We went up Emigration Canyon to Ruth's Diner and had a fun morning above the inversion.  After that, Scott and I both decided that we would take advantage of Freestone's Saturdays to spend some time with him.  Now the Saturday question is, "What adventure are we going to have today?"  After all, nobody should dread Saturdays.  They are full of possibility.  Since Freestone's sad statement, and our breakfast at Ruth's, Freestone has been to Southern Utah twice for weekend adventures.  We have turned his dread into anticipation, and along the way, we have carved out time with this funny, gangly kid whom we adore so much.

In the parenting world, you hear the statement, "I'm not a cruise director!"  Why not?  If your kid's childhood is a cruise, why wouldn't you want to be the director?  Or at least be on the cruise.  I hear, "Kids need to learn to be bored."  I get the point of that, but it irks me.  Wouldn't it be better if kids learned to be enthused?  Man, I see so many bored kids on Instagram, posting selfie after selfie, in their bathrooms.  "Learning to be bored" doesn't seem as worthy a notion as "going on a cruise with your parent," even if the cruise is a metaphor.  So I'm going to direct this cruise until my children take over the wheel.  I see it happening already.

Last Saturday, Freestone said, "Let's go hike Adams Canyon, Mom."  I always say yes, and I did, and we picked up a couple of cousins on the way.

Surprise!  It's winter, and there was snow in the shady canyon.  Duh.  Fortunately, it had been warm, and the snow was slushy.  Traction was no problem going up.  Going down, we all slid on our derrieres the whole way!

Having a contest to see who could keep their fingers in the icy creek the longest.

Don Carlos is so loyal.  He logged a million tiny chihuahua steps in the slush, and never complained. Freestone packed dog food and a tupperware of water for Don in his backpack.  They're a good team.

I think the hike may have been more than Izzy bargained for.  At the end, she said, "I forgive you for taking me on this hike, Circe."  So funny!  We came home muddy, with sore behinds and frozen fingers, but I bet we'll remember that Saturday.

See the kids?

At home, Freestone laughed at Scott's lesson in folding pants.  Completely useless information when you could just throw them on the ground.  Ha ha.  We still have some mountains to climb with this kid.