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Climbed the Mountain ⛰️

It had been calling to us for a long time, Tromsdalstinden. A silent giant watching over our cabin in Tromsø, a majestic profile against the sky. Last night, over a cup of tea, the decision was made in a shared glance between Caitlin and me: "Tomorrow, we do it."

This wasn't just a Sunday stroll; it was an expedition. The backpacks were packed with care – layers of wool, a thermos of steaming coffee, and the secret cargo: a chocolate cake for the trip's guest of honor. Oliver, full of birthday energy, bounded from rock to rock like a young mountain goat at the start. But the mountain takes, and the mountain gives. As the path grew steeper and the wind brisker, the light leaps turned into heavier steps.

Alexander, securely fastened in the carrier against my chest, slept through it all. His steady, warm breath was a calm rhythm against my own strained pulse.
And then, finally, the summit! The feeling of standing there, with the world at our feet, was indescribable. Tromsø lay like a miniature landscape below us, framed by ice-blue fjords and a sea of other sharp peaks.

Before we brought out Oliver's birthday cake, I took Caitlin's hand. There, on top of Tromsø, with the whole world beneath us and our sleeping son safe against my chest, we shared a moment that was just ours. A look that held all the journeys we had taken, all the challenges we had faced, and all the love that had brought us here.

Hours later, as the afternoon sun painted the mountain in gold and purple, we sank into the cabin sofa. Our bodies ached in that good way, and the aroma of a well-deserved dinner filled the living room.

Tromsdalstinden is no longer just a mountain we see from our window. Now, it is a memory, a chapter in our family's history.