Rolling Down That Hill...

Sometimes as adults, we tend to get wrapped up in all the craziness of everyday life.

Things like going to work, taking the kids from place to place, shopping, cooking, cleaning, car repairs, mowing the lawn, paying the bills and whatever else comes up on a daily basis.

It can be terribly stressful and overwhelming.

So much so, that we forget to take a moment to breathe and appreciate some of the little things that I like to call, "life's little treasures".

Things like bending down to pluck a dandelion without throwing your back out or getting through a meal without your little one needing to take a dump or having morning sex on a Saturday without having to lock the door.

There are so many countless treasures that we ignore.

What does this mean in the big scheme of things?

Should we try and let go of all that other stuff?

Is it in our best interest to re-prioritize our lives?

Why is it that way back when we were kids, the only thing that mattered was riding our bikes until the sun went down? Everything was about having fun.

Kids know how to live in the moment.

Living in the moment might be the secret to a happy and joyous life.

Because there's nothing you can do about the past and we certainly have no control over what happens in the future.

We as adults need to start being more spontaneous for our kids. We need to show them that the fun doesn't stop when the training wheels come off.

Dandelions and morning sex...

This past week, my family and I spent some time away in Lake Tahoe together. It's almost impossible to deny the sheer beauty that surrounds you. Quite frankly, it's awe inspiring.

God's country.

One morning, my wife and I were eating breakfast outside and our girls were frolicking a few yards away on a grassy hill.

It was a perfect day.

Bright sun, clear skies and Blue Jays singing their morning love songs.

Time and time again, my girls would run to the top of that hill, only to roll all the way back down to the bottom.

There was so much laughter.

They didn't need any Blackberries. No Ipods. No Nintendo DS necessary.

Just a grassy hill and the moment.

My oldest daughter ran up to me out of breath and invited me to come rolling down the hill.

I said no.

She came back a second time and pleaded with me to join her but just once.

I said that I really shouldn't.

She wouldn't let up. She was euphoric about her moment and she wanted me to be in it with her.

I told her that I needed to digest my food and then maybe I would give it a try.

I thought she might forget.

But no...

She came back one more time and begged me to partake.

So I took one last bite of my butt steak and sunny side up eggs and swigged one last sip of my black coffee.

She took my hand and led me to the hill.

And we ran together, breakfast and all.

We had our moment...



After having this one precious, spontaneous moment, I started to sweat. I had a terrible allergy attack, my arms and legs were marked with cuts and scrapes and I couldn't breathe. My brain felt like a lost ship on a stormy sea. I sat dry heaving at the bottom of that hill for almost five minutes, until I had a panic attack.

I learned that there is a reason why we now choose to watch our kids live in the moment, as opposed to us living in it ourselves.

It is because we are old and vulnerable.

We can actually have a stroke from rolling down that hill or possibly even die.

From now on, I'll just sit here with my Blackberry, eating my butt steak and eggs at the top of the hill and watch...