Fisher boy

Camping, for Sidamo, is fishing. He spent most of the weekend either fishing or asking to fish. When he's actually fishing, he's not nearly as peaceful as he looks here: His line tangles, his hook snags, he catches nothing but the bottom of the river. In short, he's frustrated. And yet he is desperate to do it more. It's not really a mindset I understand, as someone who avoids frustration and discomfort at all costs, but it's pretty typical of how Sidamo navigates his world.

(I should say here and now that all photo credit goes to Greg. Except the crappy pictures: When you see those, you can be sure they belong to me.)

Sidamo's second-favorite activity: Scrambling up rocks—especially if those rocks meet water. At Rocky Mountain National Park, there is an awesome alluvial fan, which is the technical name for the strewing of rock that occurs when a body of water floods. Or something like that. What do I look like, a guide book? Anyway, the end result is something it would take 23 playground designers 23 years and $23 krillion to build. It kept our entire crew of 4- and 6-year-olds (we were camping with friends) busy and happy for hours despite the record-breaking heat.

These pictures, for example, were all taken by Greg. I was busy sitting in that teensy bit of shade you can see way off in the distance if you squint, with a hot little baby on my chest, scoping out where I'd install the air conditioner if it took them any longer to get back down. (Mama gets cranky when temperatures break 80; see note above about frustration and discomfort.)

Sidamo is getting to a very fun age for outdoor adventures. He can hold his own and is motivated to explore and try new things. The trick is just getting his needs met while also attending to the littles (and the cranky mama), who have a little less tolerance and endurance than he has. I see some solo dad-Damo excursions in our future.