It Feels Like Happy

Today the husband and I took Atrain and Jdog exploring in the creek by our home. It's just a three minute walk across yards of pavement toward the pebble laced stream. Then out of nowhere the asphalt ends and a tree lined dirt trail leads down to the creek's tiny bank. It was a shady little haven for our family this afternoon. The husband and Atrain lobbed in every rock they could find, laughing as each splashed into the cold mountain run off. Jdog hung out in the front pack while I kicked off my sneakers and waded in the water.

There was something magical about the moment when my feet met the icy stream; I felt like I was twelve years old again, leaping across the rocks in the river behind my Grammie's house in Canada. My mom grew up there, and when I was growing up she would take me and my sisters back to her home for weeks at a time during the summer. I loved everything about that place: the lush forest that encased Grammie's home; the fireflies that flickered around in the evening; the green worms that hung from the trees and how my mother loathed them; and of course, my far away family. If only it were possible to live in two places at once.

I giggled like a little girl as I stood in the water with my eight month old baby strapped to me. I wanted Atrain to feel the little river running around his feet too. So, when the husband heard nature calling and had to cut his end of the adventure a little sooner than expected, I handed Jdog to him and then held Atrain's hand as we scouted out the perfect wading spot. "You have to be so careful," I said, "never let go of my hand," I repeated a few times before stepping in. He nodded, then slowly dipped his toes in. A giddy smile grew across his face once both feet were firmly planted in the running water. "This is so fun...it feels like cold," he said as we waded up the stream a little ways. "I think it feels like happy," I said as we gathered a few smooth stones from the bottom and tossed them down stream. "Yeah, happy," he agreed.