Gone Fishing

I took the kids to see my sister and her family at their campsite last evening. We wasted no time piling in the back of a truck and driving to a fishing hole--Fisher and Phoenix in awe of riding in the open air. We trekked through prairie grass awash in wild flowers and music of grasshoppers until we came to a pond, everything held together under the golden August sun. Fisher was made for fishing--he was the most patient of all the kids, just sitting there watching his bobber and believing great things would come. He caught 3 fish, which was more than anyone. The rest of the kids continually casting as if to taunt the fish to bite. Phoenix just kept reeling her line through moss over and over and I had to clear the sludge off her hook and recast for her over and over, all the while telling her to just leave it be for a while. Then my dad said to me just let her fish however she wants and you'll both have more fun. Of course things are that simple. It must have been my morning of dealing with her loud tantrum while partaking in the flood the downtown Des Moines sidewalks with chalk event or her constant screeching all day for me to pick her up and set her down and get her this or that--but I had forgotten this nugget of truth. I immediately let go of trying to control and just let it be. That really is the best parenting advice--be idle, just let them be. I've always wanted an airstream trailer to travel and see all the beautiful places of this hemisphere. (What a great word by the way: hemisphere.) I follow worksology on instagram--a man who collects places, who sold most everything and now travels in an airstream with his wife and young son. I love viewing this stranger's pictures, a peephole into a life. If I ever met him I would say way to go.