#Middlebury #MRA
By BRIDGET HENRY
April showers bring MRA flowers, right?
As I drove past Shephardson today, I saw that the familiar sandwich board was up and issuing its seasonal reminder to enter the boat lottery and buy an MRA pass. How is it May already?
Seems like yesterday we made our first trip to the MRA. We were new to town, slowly learning our way around Middlebury and had been asked by almost everyone we met, “Have you been to the MRA yet?”
We hadn’t. So one morning, I decided to pack up the three boys and check the place out. I had no idea what to expect from the MRA. In fact, I didn’t even know where it was. But I had a plan. Aidan, who had just learned to swim, could splash and play near the shore. Owen could sit and build castles. Ian could nap peacefully. And I would feel like a good mom.
So off we went. I found the MRA and quickly surveyed the scene. The walk to the water was no joke but I noted the bathrooms and tried to convince myself it wouldn’t be that bad if we had to walk back up to use them. As we approached the lake I was relieved to see there were lifeguards and a well-marked shallow end. This looked doable.
But then we reached the grass. That’s when I noticed (a little too late) the play set and the swings. Before I could utter a word, Owen had taken off. This playground (now long gone from the MRA) was not part of the plan. I sensed trouble.
No problem, I thought. I’d coax Owen from the slide with a snack and get him to play near the water. We could build castles together while I kept a close eye on my new swimmer.
Unfortunately, Owen had other plans. He was obsessed with the playground and was not about to leave it. Or share it. So, with one eye and one hand graciously trying to convince Owen that he would need to let other kids have a turn, I kept my other eye ferociously trained on the one in the water.
Terrified of taking my eye off of Aidan for even one second around water, I tried to convince Aidan to stay at our end of the beach. But he had found the fish. On the other side of the dock. At the other end of the beach.
My heart raced. I started to sweat. I grabbed Owen off the slide, ran to keep Aidan off of the dock and left a crying and clearly not sleeping Ian in his infant carrier. This was not fun.
Aidan wanted to fish, Owen wanted to climb and Ian was screaming. I just wanted to go home.
That night, I vividly remember telling Mark how much I hated the MRA. And that I was never going back.
Well of course we went back. Many times. And we made hundreds of incredible memories. We’ve had sunburns, poison ivy, laughs and new friends to prove it.
Now that the kids are older, we spend less time at the MRA. The swimmer is graduating from high school and headed for deeper waters. The one on the playground is off in a new direction, learning to drive. And the baby isn’t so little anymore. But me? I am still standing here, ferociously keeping my eye on the three of them. Always.
The memories are vivid. And great. I’d definitely go back. But I also can’t wait to see what’s ahead. Happy May and MRA! As always, I am happy to be Somewhere in the Middle (of memories) with you.
