I don't do much of what the average person would call "adventuring" these days- there has been a distinct cut-back in things like climbing, surfing, camping, and even hiking. Not a lot of travel either, for that matter. But I'm not bored! No sir, turns out raising a kid is chock-full of one of my favorite elements of adventure- novel experiences. Watching his development from larva to nymph is like one long, fascinating science experiment: what will happen next? For a person who loves stories, raising a human is the ultimate, because I am suddenly enjoying a front-row seat to the beginning of a person's story- something you never get to do with your parents or peers or millions and millions of people. It's- as mentioned- fascinating.
My current joy is in the whole giving-him-solids thing. Or, rather, letting him give himself solids. I get so excited to introduce him to new flavors and textures, and watch his (admittedly hilarious) expressions as he experiences them for the first time, how they move from (essentially) "WTF? Why?" to "Hmm, okay let's do this some more," to "YAS I WILL NOM WITH ALL MY MIGHT!"
It was so fun to give him a lemon to suck on during breakfast yesterday, to let him demolish a freshly-made corn tortilla last night (full disclosure: he liked the sauteed bell pepper the best). Tonight I soaked a piece of (low-gluten) sourdough bread in Nathan's famous chili, and let Neeps suck on it. He loved it. And I loved watching him decide he loved it!
I've always known that I would enjoy introducing any child of mine to the books that I love, and to the activities that I love- you know, "adventures"- but for some reason it never occurred to me that I'd get a similar thrill from culinary exploration. Which means that even tho' it will be a while before I can share the joy of Heinlein, or swimming in the Pacific, every evening I get a little mini-adventure of perfectly seasoned broccoli, or delightfully tender beef.
Life is good.