The kids and I have been taking lots of hikes, "adventures," we sometimes call them; most people would probably call them short walks on flat surfaces in the woods. The boys have a walking limit of about 200ft and 205ft, respectively. I can usually convince SlimJim to keep walking for a mile or so, but at the 205 mark, he starts asking when he can go in the backpack. And with a three year old's concept of elapsed time, no matter how long I ask him to walk, he continues to ask, "now?" every 21 seconds. Our weekday hikes have to be short enough that I can have both boys walk most of the way, and take turns carrying them for a few minutes.
Today, last minute, we decided to get in the car and go for a real hike with Daddy. A hike up a mountain. Because there would be two grown ups to carry the boys.
The first hour of the hike was fantastic. The weather was perfect, the woods were beautiful, plenty of snack breaks, lots of nature to explore. The boys found a frog, we looked at mushrooms and fallen trees, and we enjoyed the walk.
The next hours were a bit more challenging. When we realized, after the first hour, that we hadn't even made it a quarter of the distance to the top, we knew we'd have to carry the boys. Mr.T. was insistent, for once, that he walk on his own. If he was going to be carried, it certainly wasn't going to be in the backpack meant for a one year old. Finally, we ended up with Mr.T. in the big kid pack, SlimJim in the baby pack, and we started climbing again. The girls did a great job- LittleL.G. bounding like a gazelle, and MiniM.E. keeping up a good pace. Though everyone was pretty tired by the end, we made it to the top.
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