Today is the Captain’s 12th birthday. I rarely post on the girls’ birthdays, but the Captain’s birthday usually brings about a good wallow on the theme of They’re Not My Babies Anymore, eventually coming around to the personal growth moment of Perhaps That Is A Good Thing. This year: lather, rinse, repeat.
Working in my favour this year: no real signs of puberty yet, as he’s still safely below my shoulder in height and weighs less than most people’s pet dogs. I keep having to buy him bigger socks, and yet his shoes and boots seem to still fit, so possibly his feet are growing, but possibly not. Puberty! It’s such a mystery.
(Puberty, by the way, is his most hated word in the English language, giving him the willies like the word “moist” does to some people, and the word “lover” does to me, except when used ironically in a “Hello, lover” kind of way to refer to chocolate cake.)
Twelve seems like kind of a big number, though. By the time I was 13 I had a paying job. By the time I was 15, I was working all summer, and by the time I was 18 I had moved out to go to university. I feel like our lazy Summers of Awesome are limited, and that makes me sad.
Counteraction: make family memories! Now! As much as possible! CRAM IN THE MEMORIES.
So this year we are planning a Big Family Trip, something we have been saving for since we went to PEI. Our trip to PEI was awesome, we all had a fantastic time and were very sad to leave, but rather than go back we decided there was so much more of the world to see, and that we better get On It. We spent a lot of time out east talking about geography and oceans and tides and the different environments you’d see right here in Canada, and that led to a lot of talk about the Rocky Mountains, and THAT led to a lot of talk about how Sir Monkeypants has always wanted to go out west, so…
Calgary, Banff, and Jasper – Summer 2015. IT’S HAPPENING.
Happy birthday, Captain!