Easy does it.

 

We spent a glorious, sun-filled, river running six days in Plain last week. It was amazing. And quiet. And unplugged. I adore that there is no tv, no phone, no internet and no cell service. A lack of all that creates a sense of peaceful meandering through the days.

 

We made a dam in the river. Then we made it bigger. Then we added a river rock jetty that created a warm pool on the banks of our river. We caught fish in tiny nets. We cooked our dinners and roasted vegetables over the open fire. We laid in warm rooms at night with fans blowing on our sun-drenched bodies. And we rafted the river. Every.Single.Day.

Along with that rafting, Parker and Evie ramped up their bravery. These kids step out on a lot of faith in their life, trusting their instincts and their risk taking skills. (One of the attributes of learning at Parker's school is being a "risk taker", which he prides himself on. He'll read a book aloud to the class, painstakingly sounding out each word, he'll volunteer for something he's still a little unsure of, and he'll walk up to any "new friend" despite their grade level and invite them to play. His teacher even noted his keen ability to take risks on report card). It's no wonder that one of the ways they really encourage each other is by telling one another "take a risk!" and "great job risk taking!" and "ooooh! look at you! such a risk!!". It's awfully cute. Their bravery this week manifested in The Big River. The Wenatchee runs fast and deep. Much faster than usual at this time of year. And at two different points during this week, both of the kids fell out of their rafts on some pretty big rapids. I watched their rafts enter into churning waters and hit a combination of waves and rocks just right - their rafts heading high up into the air and flipping over - the kids tumbling out and disappearing under the churning waters. But THEN, then they did exactly as we practiced. They swam up to the surface, their life jackets helping them bounce up, they took big breaths of air before the rapids sucked them back under, and they swam hard. And within seconds, minutes, a tiny span of time, someone (dad, grandpa, the nearest adult), yanked them back out of the water and onto a raft. I looked at them, squinting my eyes in the sun, reading their little faces - and then they smiled. And talked about how BRAVE they were, the big RISK, how PROUD they felt that the remembered exactly what to do. And my heart soared with pride too. After that, jumping off the boulder at the swimming area seemed trivial. But still a little scary. They propelled themselves off the rock and into the swift currents of the deep river and let the waters guide them back to shore just like we showed them. They trusted us and they trusted the river. By the end of the week Evie wanted to wait until more rafters were floating by to make sure they could see her (and hopefully cheer for her). Which they especially did when she asked me to toss her out farther and "try and get some air this time".

That's my four and six year old. Braver than I. Even still.