Oh dear, am I ever behind when it comes to blogging these milestones. I do have legitimate excuses, though. We have been in the process of selling our present home, renovating our next home and (just this weekend) moving to that new home on the family farm. Also, with two teenagers who attend highschool online, it is nearly impossible to get near the computer from which I blog. In the midst of this semi-chaos, kids still have birthdays and time marches inevitably on. With that forward movement of the calendar, our dear little Isaac turned nine. And there he is in all his Isaac glory: a pile of joy (and a good deal of feelings on the other side of the scale as well). He never stops moving and, when he does, he falls almost immediately asleep. He once told me that a good cure for insomnia was to count to, wait for it, 5.
For his end-of-August birthday, he asked if we could take a family hike together. I chose a trail that I had only ever heard of and for which little to no markings of its location existed. All we knew was that it was on the way to Algonquin Park. Rather than rack this choice up to my failure to plan, I chose to approach this adventure as a find-the-mystery-trail sort-of event. Dave doesn't take as much joy in the mystery as I do. #marriage
Just as we were about to hit a point of frustration, both Dave and I (in separate vehicles) spotted a piece of orange surveyors tape tied to a tree next to a teensy-tiny sign that read: Use at own risk. We assumed that this must be our destination (oooh, danger) and quickly found a beautiful trail that led upward to some stunning views.
Joseph after he let the dog off lead.
Joseph and Isaac pretending to fall into a deep, dark and dangerous body of water. (A three-inch creek)
Mariana being pulled upward by her father. Amazingly she made it a full kilometre uphill without complaint.
The summit.
I feel like this is some sort of paparazzi photo of Dave and me on vacation. It just has that blurry, hey-they're-real-people, sort-of vibe.
The proud parents nine years later.
A closer shot of parents who are only slightly less tired than the day on which Isaac was actually born.
Mariana, alas, refused to hike downhill. Interesting.
Matthew stayed at home napping with Jacob during our hike, but he reappeared for supper at the grandparents' - lasagna, Isaac's favourite.
Grandpa looking wild.
Slightly more civilised Grandpa.
The inevitable GF donut cake carried in by a loving brother.
Isaac with his cake and beer.
Grandma looking on benevolently.
Yet another view from the top. What lake is that? I have absolutely no idea.
Lastly, our fourth-born boy, Isaac David. We call him the squirrel because he seems to scurry around at an alarming rate. He feels very, very deeply and I sometimes forget to take the time with him that he really needs to express that emotion before he, well, falls asleep. He often snores through family prayer time and quite frequently wakes up in a different place than where he first fell asleep. His smile is absolutely winning and his face lights up like the sun when he flashes that smile. I love this boy to the moon and back and wish I had more time just to get to know him. Many years, dearest Isaac.
