I've been traveling. School ended, my son had a hernia operation, and a couple of days later, we headed to a chalet outside of the Smoky Mountain National Park to have a little mountain getaway. And, of course, go to Dollywood. I love Dolly and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I hate country music, but Dolly is in a league of her own. But I digress.
A post surgery road trip was a little nerve wracking for my son because he is, well, a lot like me. He was constantly worried about splitting his sutures and he made me check for swelling multiple times a day. That said, I couldn't stop the kid from strapping on a hydration pack and hiking on three different days. When we suggested white water rafting at the end of the trip, he was the first to shout, "Yes, please." That's what I love about my kids. Sure, they have adopted some of my general life concerns, but they are also SO much more adventurous than I ever was as a kid.
My daughter is six and rode all the roller coasters at Dollywood except one (and she was ticked because she was a smidge too short to ride it). She rode multiple loops and corkscrews and drops that I wouldn't even attempt as an adult without serious persuasion. Now I love them, and maybe my kids see me riding them and think, "If she can do it, then ANYONE can." I like to think that in addition to instilling a little fear in them, I am also responsible for instilling a little bravery.
Now my son is mostly recovered from the surgery, although today he informed me that someone "kicked him in the nuts" at soccer camp and he's worried about the surgery spot. He turned ten this week and I wonder if I should be upset that he is using a phrase like "kicked me in the nuts." Sadly, that was my first thought before wondering if he was okay. He is okay, though.