The boys and I were in California for three weeks. It was warm. I'm tan. There was edible Mexican food. So, you know, pretty much your everyday California vacation.
One of the things that happened while we in Tahoe during the first week of the trip was the boys' first backpacking experience. My mom, sister-in-law, and I spent a day together while the menfolk traipsed into the wilderness.
The girls went shopping, had some dinner, watched some television and talked late into the night.
The boys went hiking, had some dehydrated food, went to bed early and watched some gorgeous scenery.
Matthew whined and complained at the start and then got a competitive boost of energy and raced to the destination. He was dwarfed by his pack and looked like Spongebob from the back.
They swam and played and enjoyed their time in the woods.
They were only gone for one night--a good introduction to the joy of backpacking--but they were the filthiest and smelliest I'd ever seen (smelled) them when they got back.
They had a blast and I love that they were totally unplugged (not that my kids really spend that much time plugged in, anyway) and engaged in nature and more people should be willing to take their kids into the wilderness to explore.
More dads and uncles and grandpas, that is. Because the womenfolk enjoy their shopping time, Starbucks, and happy hour tacos.
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