On a recent trip to the Darebin Parklands I arrived to find the creek running wild after several days of steady rain. It had well and truly burst its banks and turned from a sleepy little creek to a raging, rushing river. I was there with my girls and their friends and they all went wild with excitement, whooping, screaming, shouting and laughing at the river rushing past.  There was no hope of crossing the river, our bridge was submerged by the torrent.

The kids were so loud and exuberant.  They were totally in the moment, being wild with the wild river. I smiled indulgently at them at first. You know, in that patronising grown up way of "How sweet." Truth be told I was a little uncomfortable with such abandon and emotion. It was so wild and free. And it tugged at something inside me that been's buried for a long time under the work of being a mum, being organised, cooking, cleaning and all that daily drudgery that can completely engulf and overwhelm when you let it. It had successfully managed to stifle my own wildness with the seriousness of being an adult and a parent.

But on this day, when the river ran wild and my kids went with it, I did too. I let their enthusiasm sweep me along as we explored the new banks of the river, marvelled at our familiar path made unpassable by the torrent and discovered new routes in our new landscape.