Can you find them both?

They called me outside to “see what we did.” 

And while I stood looking at my child in the top of that tree I ran through my options.  I could fuss, I could yell, I could stand at the bottom and worry and wait for him to get down - letting my fear, concern, and disapproval show.  Or I could put into practice the advice a stranger offered up at McDonald’s Playland the other day.  She watched as I couldn’t contain my youngest.  He was all over the place - climbin’ right up in the tunnel slides with all the other ones.  Gigglin’ and yellin’ to beat the band.  After he came out of one of the slides with 2 fresh bumps on his head I could take no more.  I strapped him safely into his stroller.  Oh the fits that followed.  And the mama who’s a tad further down this parenting road said, “Tsk, tsk, Mama.  Let that baby run.”  And I told her all about how he gets hurt all the time, how little he is, how fearless he is, and how my nerves could simply not take anymore.  She said she knew - she had one that was 15 now.  That my little one reminded her of him.  That sometimes you’ve gotta let ‘em be boys.  Know when to turn your head.  Practice being calm.  And then pick them up and carry them to the E.R.  She went on to tell me how last summer, without her knowledge, her fearless boy decided to jump his bike across their pool.  She said the bike made it into the water.  The boy was not so lucky.  On the way home from the hospital, he said to her, “Huh, I guess that wasn’t so smart.”  She said to me, “Turn that boy loose, he’s gotta be.”  And I did.  And his little boy-spirit soared.  He romped, and climbed and slid, and loved life - not worrying once about those new bumps on his noggin.

So, what did I do about the boy in the top of the tree?  Did I stand and make sure he got down safely?  Did I scold him and bring him in? 

Nope.  I heard that wiser mama’s words ringing in my ears and I said, “Yep, that’s very cool.  Be really careful.”  And I walked back inside.  So as to maintain a thread of my sanity.  And waited with abated breath knowing that I’d be grabbing van keys and running to the hospital.  I didn’t.  I was spared.  This time.  I know that I can’t protect them at all times.  I know there will be injuries.  I know the risks.  But I also know that I cannot crush their spirit.  I know that they need danger.  They need to walk on the wild side.  And sometimes we all need a little fearlessness in our lives.