When I was a child, I was always surrounded by other children. I remember the laughter, the tears, the angst and the joy that comes from having so many siblings and cousins.

What I miss the most though, is the adventure.

We lived in the woods and splashed in the lake and the creeks and never stopped until it was time for the adults to corral us to the table for dinner. That chaos that the outdoors could handle would take over our homes yet the adults seemed to love it. I miss playing in my cousins' barn for hours, showing them our tree forts, cutting down so many trails through the woods together, and even a truly gross Fourth of July blowing up slugs with firecrackers behind my aunt and uncle's car.

I grapple with many things as an adult and a parent. I'm so glad to have grown up and made my own family - but I wish that those we lost along the way were still here. I miss endless summers and skinned knees and even heartache that felt world-ending. Growing up, when done right, is never a straightforward or easy process.

Over the last several years, one of the things that has made this growing up stuff easier was the joy of reconnecting with one cousin in particular. My cousin had become a leader; down to earth, hilarious and loved. He married a woman who radiates strength and humor, and she threw her arms open to me, pulling me in. She is a woman who makes a home wherever she is; not a house, but a home. The two of them created this life full of crazy kids, true friendships and so much laughter. When they welcomed you in you felt so loved, and I think they only partially realize the impact they've had in this world. I know they feel loved, but I hope they realize it is absolutely a reflection of what they have given out for years. Well, love, and sometimes a well deserved smack upside the head or sarcastic remark. :)

When our kids run wild outside now, I see us when we were kids. It feels like that adventure I miss is back; only now our job is to do the corralling and smile as the jumble of dirty kids rolls in. I wonder what my kids will remember as adults; I hope they remember these days of dirt and chaos and allow their own kids this. I hope that someday, our kids are standing beside each other, looking at pictures and laughing and crying at themselves years earlier.