My Eagle Scout

I had big plans to make Dan's first Father's Day extra special. In the days proceeding the big day I asked Dan what he wanted for his breakfast. His answer, "bacon." He corrected himself, "1 pound of bacon." OK. That I could handle.

As Dan was polishing off his breakfast of bacon and I was putting Hudson down for his morning nap, we received a phone call that my Papa was not doing well. We packed up and headed to Hutchinson. I promised Dan a "re-do" when life settled down. A few weeks later, we planned our second attempt. Unfortunately, just as we were getting started for our day, we received another call with tragic news again delaying our celebration.

One would think we would cancel our plans altogether, but we decided to give it one more try. We planned to celebrate Father's Day during our family vacation to Colorado.

It was the day of Father's Day Re-Do Take Two. This was to be Dan's day with whatever he wanted to do. He had been talking for weeks about taking a family hike. I did some research and found a hike I had done when I was younger that seemed like a good mild hike to take Hudson on.

We gathered up our supplies and packed up our Camelbaks. We were armed with water, snacks and all of our Hudson gear. As we packed, I watched the weather just to see what was anticipated for the day ahead. Afternoon showers were expected after 2:00. I told Dan I was fine with the hike, but was concerned about the possible rain and having the baby out in it. "I'm an Eagle Scout." he told me. Didn't seem like much of an answer to me, but I decided to not be that uptight mama and just roll with it.

On our way to the hike spot we stopped for some lunch while Hudson napped and made an additional stop at an outdoor store. Dan bought some "emergency ponchos" and off we went.

We parked our rental car at the trail head, got Hudson packed up in the Baby Bjorn and began our two mile trek up the mountain. The walk was beautiful. There were lots of wildflowers and old mine remnants along the way. We leisurely climbed (partially because both of us were a bit out of shape, carrying our supplies and Dan with the added 20 pounds of Hud). We took pictures and pointed out the sights to our little guy. We arrived at the top to what was at one time an old mine at about 2. But just as we started to explore the run down cabins the sky opened up and it began pouring. We took shelter in a cabin with a couple of local guys on a hike with their Golden Retrievers.

There we explored the cabin and it gave Hudson a chance to have a bottle and we chatted with the locals. After about 30 minutes of hiding out, my Eagle Scout reported the sky was clearing and we could go. I got out the "emergency ponchos" (just in case) and put one over me. Don't let the name fool you. Essentially the poncho was more along the lines of a plastic grocery sack. I tried to put one over Dan and the Hud as well, but Hudson was more interested in eating the sack. Basically it was suffocation waiting to happen so Dan opted out of the poncho idea.

So, with my sack over me and our full baby, we headed off down the mountain. We didn't get 100 yards from the cabin until BAM! The rain was back. It wasn't bad at first. Dan had turned Hudson towards him so that he was largely sheltered from the rain and there was big blue patch of sky that would be over us soon and the rain would be gone. Or so we thought.

Ouch! Yes, that's when the hail began. Large pellets of ice pounded upon us. The baby was screaming, I could see his sweet little red face looking to me in terror from under his soaked cotton hoodie as Dan and I attempted to run down the mountain. Yes, I am not exaggerating. We were running straight down the rocky decline.

As we were running I was screaming a prayer. "Please God, please make it stop. Please God, protect my baby." (Yes, a bit dramatic I know, but I was scared!) The temperature seemed to drop with each step. What had started off a sunny day with blue skies and a comfortable 68 degrees had transformed into a dark, wet, cold, hailing miserable day.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, Dan slipped. "Oh, my ankle." he screamed. Great. Just great. I had visions of throwing Dan and Hudson on my back and carrying everyone down the mountain. Obviously with the trouble I was having carrying my 20 lb Camelbak, this was not, nor could be reality. I asked Dan what we should do. To which he replied, "we don't have a lot of options." (oh really?) So, Dan trudged on, limping and whimpering with each step and I continued my prayer, only this time adding that I hoped Dan didn't lose his foot and that Hudson wouldn't get frostbite.

After what seemed like eternity, we finally saw the bottom and awaiting us was our lone car in the parking lot. We made our plan of attack to strip down Hudson and get him in warm clothes. My poor baby. I was just sure he was emotionally and physically scarred forever. But as we got to the car and Dan prepared to take Hudson out of his Bjorn we realized he was asleep. Dan laughed. But, I, in my crazy mom mode was sure at this point he had slipped into a coma because of the cold. Together we got him into warm clothes and safely back in his carseat for the ride home.

The ride was quiet. Dan took off his shoe and tried to show me his swelling ankle. I'd like to say I was a sweet, caring wife who doted on Dan. But, nope. Not at that point. I was busy continually turning around in my chair to check on my Hudson casually giving Dan a death glare as I did so. Poor guy just wanted to sleep but I was having none of it. I poked him, I tickled his feet. I wanted to be assured he was OK. We arrived at the house and I put Hudson to bed.

By this time Dan's swollen ankle looked as though there was a softball taped to the side. Dan took a picture and sent it to his dad. "Diagnosis?" he texted.

His reply? "Clutz." Thank you, Stan. Perfect. I couldn't have said it better myself.

It's been a week now. Hudson is fine and Dan's ankle is much better. Dan's right. If it all went perfectly, we probably wouldn't have even remembered it, nor had any stories to tell.

But, in true Nikki fashion, I'll close with a few lessons learned:
1. Save yourself the $2.99. Emergency ponchos do not live up to their name.
2. Dress the baby in head to toe waterproof clothing.
3. Even if the baby doesn't walk, he still needs shoes.
4. "I'm an Eagle Scout" is not, nor should be taken as a valid answer to any question (aside from the obvious of "how far did you make it in Boy Scouts?"). Besides, a meteorologist probably knows more about the weather than your Eagle Scout.
AND
5. If it weren't for my Dan what on earth would I blog about?!