Each summer, when we are in town, we do "Philly and Ronnie Camp" a couple of days a week. It gives us a chance to spend time with the kids and it gives their mommy, Paige, a break. This year we had them the entire last week before school because Paige had to go back to work earlier then normal for teacher planning. For their last summer hurrah, we decided to rent a beach house. In addition to the children, we took our two dogs, Molly and Annie. We spent time on the beach, paddled a paddle boat, played games one rainy morning, walked/chased the dogs, and basically hung out. It was a lot of fun and we had the opportunity to enjoy many special moments with each child. Now don't get me wrong, every minute was not a Hallmark moment. In reality, it often resembled a mixture of episodes from the Little Rascals, Dennis the Menace, iCarly, and the Ninja Turtles with a few rounds of World-wide Wrestling thrown in. They really loved the loft feature of the house. After all, it provided great sport. One or two of them would sneak upstairs when no one was paying attention and throw pillows and other objects over the loft wall to see who they could hit. We soon put a stop (at least when we were looking) to this game to avoid injury to people and property. They took our authority in stride and moved on to something else...body slamming one another. As you might imagine, this activity could never turn out well, especially with their difference in height and weight. Another attraction at the house was the outdoor shower. It was great for washing all the beach sand off and keeping it out of the house. Who knew that it would inspire exhibitionism with the younger two? After showering, they ran around the lower and upper decks butt naked, laughing and squealing with me hollering "put your clothes on! The neighbors can see you!" These are just a few examples of what I like to refer to as "teaching" opportunities.
But...there were other opportunities, like the lightning flashing through the glass doors in the wee hours of the morning on our first night in the house. None one else seemed to notice it but Nathan and me. About 4 a.m., I felt his touch and looked up to see him standing next to where I was sleeping. He said, "Philly, it's lightning, I'm scared." I pulled him up beside me and we cuddled the rest of the night. He soon went back to sleep. I never did, but I was very aware that just being able to comfort him was a blessing.
Another time, Anna Jewell privately confided in me that she was worried about how the upcoming school year would go. She shared her specific concerns. I felt privileged to hear them and have the chance to reassure her it would all work out. Plus, she gave me multiple hugs and kisses after the "talk."
Cole was on the cusp of starting middle school, had very little use for the annoyances of his younger siblings, at least on the surface. Yet, we watched him play endlessly in the surf with Anna Jewell and Nathan, holding hands, protecting them from the undertow. He also was fascinated by the magic of the annual "Super Moon" when the moon is brightest and closest to earth. He watched as it changed positions and shone brightly through the glass doors on the deck. Although by the last night it was beginning to wane, Cole woke me to stand out on the upper deck to bask in the awesomeness with him. Yes, he did lose some sleep, but he was truly happy to experience this phenomena.
The question is. What will the children remember about summer 2014 in 5, 10, 20 or 30 years? For that matter, what will Ron and I?
