My kids are city dwellers. There's just no getting around it; their comfort zone is fenced in backyards and sidewalks.
But sometimes I want them to get a little dirt under their fingernails. Enter: The Hill
That's what we've affectionately dubbed, well, a hill, at a park on the other side of town. We stumbled on The Hill one Labor Day when were picnicking with friends. There's trees, dirt, rocks (manmade busted up concrete), weeds, scurrying critters....and some trash and broken glass and probable homeless dwellings that one must overlook. But we love The Hill!
I spent last Sunday afternoon playing on The Hill with the kids while Jonathan was home manning our Open House. (Oh yeah. Sidenote: Come buy our house.)
The kids got beautifully scratched up legs and arms. The boys immediately found big sticks (why do boys always do that?) to wave around menacingly. They made up explorer names like "Toxic" and "Inferno", and "Bella". Real intimidating Lauryn. They made up war cries to call out to one another through the forest. They got dirty and stinky and put a few stains on their clothes. And this reluctant city dweller Mama loved it.
Headed up the hill:
|Can you see the explorers there in the middle of The Hill?|
Must find this alleged “hill” before the summer is out. I’ll believe it when I see it.