We are up for it. We are a walk-it-out kind of family. Piece of cake right?
Ah, yeah- not so much.
Or maybe that is just it, too many pieces of cake.
Some of us are more motivated than others.
Some of us are in much better shape than others too.
One of us claims he stores 'potential energy' in his thumbs while playing video games
and that is why he is able to out hike the rest of us.
He even waited patiently for the rest of us to catch up.
More than once.
One of us complained the ENTIRE climb up. She told us we ruined her day. She told us in an exasperated tone that she couldn't BELIEVE that we didn't know that THIS mountain scares her to death. Just the day before we had a very touching conversation about fears. The kind that makes my heart well up with motherly tenderness. She told me then that when ever either of us is scared, all we had to do was hold each other's hand and every thing would be alright. Sweet right? Sweet and rational.
I tried to remind her of this conversation by asking her, "Nadia my sweet, what do we do when we are scared?"
She not-so-quietly responded, "We TERRORIZE them. Obviously! Because that's what you are doing to ME!!!"
Terrorize? Please child!
My thighs burned.
My glutes screamed.
My arm felt like a noodle from half dragging her up the hill.
But I stifled my complaints.
Instead I used *subtle* gestures to convey my agony to Tony. Is it because I am a good mom?
I take the high road? I want to set a good example for her?
No that wasn't it.
I could only mangage a zip-it gesture because words couldn't squeeze past my gasps for oxygen.
Amazingly enough her terror was wiped away once she reached the top.
All of the normal Nadia-joy returned.
The trip down was complaint-free.
Even Margo made a friend.
On a related note, I am left with a wee question...
How is it that Tony, who walked twice as much as me because of his circling with Margo (another story for another time) is left completely uneffected by the climb? He was down-right chipper all the way up and all the way down. I am not trying to argue who works harder, but honestly, Tony sits at a desk all day. Most of the time with his shoes kicked off and slouched in his chair. I am on my feet ALL stinkin day. After this hike, I was wiped. I lounged on the couch; he dug a trench and cleaned out the birds' make-shift nests. Today, my tush complains every time I change positions and don't get me started on sitting down or getting back up again. Much love to our Grandma Sue, but I am hobbeling around like her 80-some year old body on a bad hip. It didn't phase him.
Maybe he stores energy in his cheeky-cheeks like Aidan does his thumbs?