Whirling Dervish

This is my baby, my first born, the one I used to call Pooh Bear before he told me at the ripe old age of 5 that 'Pooh Bear is a baby name' and to please stop calling him that.

The former Pooh Bear, known to my readers as Whirling Dervish, will be turning 16 in 2 weeks.  I've felt this birthday coming on like a runaway train.  Most of his friends have already turned 16, and many of them already have their licenses.

This impending first adult privilege has had me panicking and counting down the moments left before he flies the nest.  There are only 2 Halloweens, a handful of Christmases, 2 Mother's Days, etc. before he's living somewhere else.  And that, my online friends, is why I've been MIA.  I've tried to eke out every last moment of this summer, because we only have 2 left before part of this family unit might leave.  Lucky for me, summer in NY doesn't end until Labor Day.  We've spent this summer up at the cottage,

down in Georgia,

up at the 1000 Islands,

and camping in the Catskills.

This stage of teenage life has WD annoyed at being forced into family time,

and taking the first chance to go off on his own.

Museums that delight SB,

have WD asking if we're done yet.

But this summer of living out of our luggage has found that elusive WD smile every now and again.

This past weekend, WD and I ran the Warrior Dash at Windham Mountain.  It was the first time in a long time that I've seen WD smile all day long.

It didn't hurt that he kicked my tail.  The course goes 1 mile up a ski slope before zig zagging around and back down, with some walls, ropes, and barbed wire thrown in.

Let's not forget the mud pits,

 and fire jumps.

There are no pics of us running together.  It turns out that WD is part billy goat, because he darted up that mountain faster than anyone else in our flight.  My pride hurt a little watching his backside bound up that mountain while my lungs were burning, but I couldn't be prouder of him.  And I finished towards the top of my age group, so I can't be too disappointed in my own performance.

The little boy that I used to love reading to, when he'd sit still for a moment,

can now school me on a race course.

But that's ok, because he's announced that he'd like for us to try to run all of the Warrior Dashes(there are 49 in the US, Canada, and Australia,) then try a few Tough Mudders and Spartans, too.  He may be planning on widening the gap between our finish times, but all I here is that he's making a multi-year commitment to hang out with his mom.

Summer's almost over and I'll be back to regular posting once the boys are back in school.  Thanks for popping in and listening to me prattle.