Tuesday, August 13, 2019

But the storm is beautiful, too.


Yup, that is the title of this post. It’s corny but true. Perhaps I should start hand-lettering truisms as a hobby. Or I could go full millennial and start cross-stitching irreverent and profanity-laced commentary.

But seriously – last week we weathered three storms in three days while camping on Cayuga Lake. We arrived at camp last Tuesday tired and hungry and late for lunch. The ride down was long and hot and humid. Rowan got carsick and threw up everywhere. We unloaded, set up the kitchen, ate a little food. Everyone was starting to feel a little more human. The kids and I changed into swim gear and raced to the dock, only to realize we were being chased by a massive storm tumbling down the lake. 

The storm came so suddenly. Thick gray clouds swept over the lake, the trees bent and branches broke. We watched in amazement as the lake was whipped into white caps like a miniature sea. The wind pushed us into the cabin just before the rain started. We hunkered down to watch the storm over the lake. The kids bundled up in their sleeping bags for warmth and comfort. Matilda was a little scared a first, but we reassured her that she was safe and she snuggled up until she felt cozy.

It should have been miserable spending our first hours at camp trapped in the cabin. But the storm was so beautiful and we could watch it rage while we were all comfortable and dry. We all had our books and games and it was pleasant to be forced to relax.

We had a few dry hours that first night and the following morning. We went for a couple chilly swims and Gretchen helped us build a campfire. The clouds came back by noon the next day and it poured while we were eating lunch. After the downpour, we headed into Ithaca for a mostly indoors afternoon. It stayed dry enough to build another campfire the second night. It was finally sunny and warm on our last morning. Gretchen joined us for a pancake breakfast and swimming. 
Look, I skipped it!
Look, I can skip rocks, too!
The kids were really champions considering the weather. They got more mileage out of the swings and exploring the shore for rocks and seashells than in the past. Rowan is proud that he can skip a stone. Matilda led everyone on expeditions to find dry kindling. Rowan referred to the cabin as a "cabern" and Matilda called it the "cabinet." When we were stuck indoors we played some board games and card games. We compromised on screen time with Rowan a little more easily than a couple years ago, although by the end of our trip he was starting to struggle.
 

We were watching the radar the morning of our departure – a massive, sickle-shaped storm system was plowing west across New York state. My mom texted me that it had just roared through Fredonia at 11:30 that morning. At about 2:00 we were saying good bye to Ben’s family and Rowan asked, where’s the storm? We looked up and pointed, there. The clouds billowed like smoke from an explosion. We drove up the hill out of camp past sideways trees and through fallen branches. We stopped soon and waited out most of the deluge at the ice cream shop just north of camp. Rowan and I studied a map of the area. I showed him our route and then we went home.

Yesterday my parents and I took the kids to Midway Park. As my Dad pointed out, this is one of the last summers that both kids are still good ages (and good heights) to enjoy it. Matilda is just tall enough to ride the bumper cars with an adult and she’s still small enough to ride all the little kid rides. Rowan is a little too tall for some of those rides, but he can ride the bumper cars and go down the big slide alone.

It was the perfect day for Midway – sunny but breezy and cool. We got there right when they opened and it wasn’t too busy yet. Despite ideal conditions, I’m grateful my parents came with us. I love the kids, but they are handful. 

It’s hard to say why, maybe he’s still wiped from out camping, but Rowan had a rough start at the park. One of the first rides he went on was for little kids – a couple little cars on an automated track. He’s just barely short enough to ride. I don’t think it goes more than 10 mph. Just after the ride took off, he started screaming his head off to stop the ride. I was just returning from the bathrooms and didn’t catch if the ride operator said anything but it seemed to slow slightly. Rowan screamed in terror for a couple more seconds, but then abruptly switched to yelling that it was “awesome.” He was a little weird about rides for the rest of the visit, but eventually relaxed enough to enjoy multiple rides down the Fun Slide. He also did fine on the bumper cars, even when they were a little crowded.

Matilda enjoyed the rides and even comforted her brother a bit. After the car debacle, they sat together for a ride on the train and she put her arm around his shoulder to reassure him. She liked the rides and wanted to go on almost everything except the Fun Slide. She did seem a little disoriented in the arcade, but eventually found a ball toss game that was her speed. Later she even put on a harness and gave the climbing wall a try!

Matilda is our brave girl. She is also extremely (sometimes aggressively) loving and snuggley. But although she is often willing to try new activities, she has become very ornery about food and is quick to become angry or whiny over minor concerns. I’m sure her concerns aren’t minor to her, but she is also still hitting with the slightest provocation. I’m very curious to see how she behaves in pre-K.

So, despite everything, it’s been a peaceful week. Summer is almost over. I am transitioning back to a work mindset, but I hope I can keep cultivating and enjoying some peace so it is a smooth transition. A part of me wants to feel regret for this summer, but in an abstract way. I just feel like I never really seized this summer, despite evidence to the contrary. We have done a lot and accomplished a lot. We have enjoyed the weather and the time. Writing and editing pictures helps to diminish the pangs of regret. Maybe I just need to show some fucking gratitude. Now there’s something I can cross-stitch.