The Fantastic Adventures of P and Z: Father's Day: Quinault Lake

The drive up was lovely. I was nervous about our roadside inn (hoping it wasn't a real hole... We're not averse to holes, at all, really, but since it was a special occasion surprise, I was definitely dreaming of cleanish carpet in a non-stinky room...) It was delightful. Right by the lake! We dropped our bag and headed for food and an evening hike.

We ate here:

There was a little village, buried in the rainforest, with a dinner spot overlooking a vast lawn of green, surrounded by low mountains and cloud cover. It was, honestly, breathtaking. The child ordered and ran out to explore while we waited for food. (This new independence thing is crazy! He asked me to come (of course;) and it both broke my heart and made it swell when he took my rejection so easily. This pregnancy has really changed our dynamic and my mama's heart is having a hard time with the adjustment. He seems to appreciate that I'm also having a hard time (physically) with this pregnancy lately, and accepts the lack of instant "yes!" that he was so accustomed to. I'm finding this stoicism so touching that it sucks on me. I'm also finding his newfound reliance on Ethan glorious (its fabulous for their relationship) and difficult. I hate "lacking." I can't stand saying "I can't, ask your father." I despise asking someone else to do something for me. Sigh. Physical ineptitude is not coming gracefully to the adult here. The child, meanwhile, appears to be weathering things pretty well :)

I clambered down after dinner to watch him joyously throw rocks.

We took a lovely little hike/walk after dinner. It was growing dark, and the child was disappointed we had to turn around so soon, but we figured it would be very dark in there at night and the old trees, bent with age and moss, were seriously creepy in the twilight. Plus, between P's collecting and questioning and appreciating and my pelvic inabilities (my first pregnancy was so easy! what the heck?!?!), we were moving at the same pace as most of the forest floor slugs...

The next morning, P climbed up beside me and whispered his hot little breath in my face. "We have to make Papa breakfast in bed." Breakfast is a big affair at our house. Even bigger now that E joins us each morning. There are eggs in some style, sausage or turkey bacon, smoothies, different teas, fresh fruit and homemade pancakes or waffles or french toast (or oatmeal or biscuits or...;) - every day. We like to eat and breakfast foods rock :) When I pulled out some cold, cooked bacon and a bit of fruit from our picnic cooler and popped it on our little lunch plate, I expected the child to scoff. He beamed. He crept to his father's still sleeping side, attempting to balance the bobbling orange, and proudly produced the one thing he thought most necessary to a Father's Day. Now, E is slow to wake up and doesn't like to eat straight away. Especially mushed strawberries and cold bacon. But no, he yanked himself awake and dutifully ate his gifts with thanks. Proving his fabulous father status right then and there :)

The man then chose the, ahem, might I say, lamest hike in the park? Typically, we like hard hikes with lots of interest. Sweet husband has been looking forward to visiting this area for 15 years... and he chose a flat path through a mossy glen. "I love moss!" he promised. "And you can't really hike," he added sweetly. Aargh. Fortunately, it really was lovely and the child was enthralled, collecting cyanide millipedes for his growing bug habitat.

Honestly, though, what is it about throwing stuff in water?!?!