Spontaneity

Usually when I pick Brennyn up from preschool at 1pm, she dumps all her grumpy on me. She’s an absolute joy at school, but as soon as she sees me, whines, complaints and misery. Part of the joys of motherhood right? So I pick her up and take her straight home for a nap.

But one day I pick up my girl, and she is a delight. Immediately I sense that an adventure, rather than a nap, is in order.

Adventure, you see, is all relative. For you it may just be a walk in the trails to get the dog out, but to us it’s a time to touch slimy mushrooms, feel moss, climb logs, and use sticks to poke around for bugs! Brennyn starts collecting sticks and before long, I join her, our backpack brimming with magic wands, pirate swords and would-be crafts.IMG_5751IMG_5752

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Eventually we come to a point where the road leads back towards our house. Only there is a train parked in our way. IMG_5757

Our detour under the train bridge only leads to more adventure. One where ice reigns supreme. IMG_5759

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Who knew a puddle iced over could pass an hour so easily?! Brennyn was transfixed. She wanted to feel it, crunch it, slide rocks on it and get creative.IMG_5753IMG_5760

At first I tried to urge her onwards, worried about the no nap and no snacks biting me in the ass at any moment, but she won me over with rock sliding races. Then rock smashing races. Before long we were just racing each other until I almost stepped on an eyeless salmon left rotting riverside and squealed and jumped in terror. This made Brennyn jump back in worry and right then is when the train, directly overhead of us, decides to start moving. It lurches and chugs and both Brennyn and I screech in surprise again.

Seeing Brennyn’s face, mirroring my own I have no doubt, full of shock and fear, and for her uncertainty, I can’t help but laugh. Hard.

Slimy dead stinky fish evasion leads us under the train bridge to which the train roars back to life and we squeal our way out from under the bridge. It’s too comical not to laugh.

Brennyn, seeing my face change, starts giggling too (uncertainty still clear in her face!) and we both laugh hard and full as we wave the bridge goodbye!

And with that, Brennyn’s tummy starts ‘crumbling’ (grumbling but she says crumbling!) and we head for home.

After drying out our sticks, we turn our stick-collecting into a craft. Not only am I impressed at how it turns out, every time I look at it, I am reminded of the joy of a spontaneous adventure with my girl.sticktree

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