We went quadbiking today. You and I and your father on one bike and your sister (with our hosts) on the other. Your sister had a grin on her face a mile wide, she had so much fun. I thought it was a great laugh. You went to sleep.
You were strapped to my chest in a hug-a-bub, with a layer covering your head to stop you bobbing it about or getting a concussion by banging it against my chest. I was then sitting astride the quadbike with your father’s arms around me as he drove. We weren’t going particularly fast but we did go down a very steep hill.
If my grandmother had been there, I do believe she would have suffered a fit of apoplexy. She would have been convinced that you were going to die. Like it was a foregone conclusion as soon as I got on the bike. I once would have thought that this was a generational thing. This intense fear of Things That Can Harm You or Things That Are NOT Safe. However, our hosts were actually of the same generation and they didn’t bat an eye. They were on the other bike! I think it’s a city thing. As in people in the country are a lot more laid back than city folk.
Your father has certainly loosened up the reigns since moving here. When your sister was starting to climb things, your dad didn’t always stop her but he certainly metamorphosed into a helicopter parent. Our new front yard has ladders all over it that lead into huge sycamore trees though. His philosophy now is, if Genevieve breaks her arm, she’ll learn to be more careful next time.
I should perhaps clarify that this is an oversimplification and we are not quite that blasé about it. She is still not supposed to climb them when she is alone in the garden or out of adult sight. We are not strapping her into a climbing harness every time she gets near a tree or standing underneath her with a mattress either though. You are going to have a field day when you are big enough to join in.
So I had a great time seeing the property and getting some fresh air. You had a nice snooze and it seems still a fair bit of air rushing up your nose despite being hidden in the wrap because you snot all over my top. I had a nice wet patch once I unwrapped you. Charming, my boy. Simply charming.