Sean and I have been accused of pushing too hard, of always questing for more than we have. We bought an old house and gutted it quite nearly top to bottom, 3 months in I became pregnant with Briar. We started a business three months before Briar was born. I told Sean I was pregnant with Avery on a camping trip a week before Briar’s first birthday, Finley was born two weeks shy of Avery’s second birthday. We started a second business. I suppose in some ways that could be seen as never being satisfied, but the other side of that would be the idea that there is always the potential to achieve more. There is probably a sweet spot in between enjoying and questing, but I don’t know if it’s possible to reside there permanently.
This weekend we went on a quest, but rather than sprinting wildly toward the horizon, we plotted a course that saw us enjoying the journey. We drove north to Plattsburgh, oohing and awing over the undeniable grandeur of the Adirondacks. I had a sack packed with snacks and drinks, which was effectively decimated by the time we got to the ferry, so big thanks to the sheer awesomeness of Lake Champlain and its gnarly ice heaves for distracting the girls (and Sean) from their hunger.
We took the Grand Isle Ferry from Plattsburgh over Lake Champlain to Vermont.
Avery loved it.
Briar loved it.
Fin endured it.
Until she finally loved it.
I was going to go on and on about the richness of the experience, what we learned, how we’ll use it, but it really boils down to this—I went out and had a great time with Sean and the girls this weekend and in focusing on that, I found complete fulfillment.