Adventure Among the Trees

"Families are the compass that guide us. They are the inspiration to reach great heights, and our comfort when we occasionally falter." -Brad Henry

It was with great anticipation that Samuel and I climbed into "Mammy's" (my mom's) car on the sunny Saturday morning of October 5th. I felt lucky to be going along as that wasn't the original plan. We headed to Northwest Trek Wildlife Refuge to meet up with three of my nephews, my brother, Jordan, and my brother-in-law, Mike. I don't know about everyone else, but Sam and I were giddy with excitement at the thought of soaring 33 feet per second through the adventure course that zig-zagged high above the forest floor.

The original plan was for my mom to take Samuel, Thomas and Dominic on the course for their eleventh birthdays, which all took place within three months of each other last Spring. The event kept getting delayed as we found it difficult to coordinate our summer schedules. Then at some point in September, my mother (whose ideal outdoor experience is sitting on the deck of a semi-secluded cabin looking out over a misty lake while wearing fluffy slippers and a warm robe with a cup of coffee in hand) decided to take some of her co-workers on a team building experience to NW Trek. With a great sense of accomplishment she completed the difficult course, but now felt like she didn't "need" to do it again. Still wanting to pay for the kids to go, she volunteered the parents to go with the boys instead of her.  We were thrilled!

Our reservation for the course was at 11 am. We met up with everybody and filled out papers promising that we wouldn't sue NW Trek if we were to break a limb or say....die. Then we climbed into our harnesses and payed close attention to the instructions. We learned to never double un-clip yourself lest you fall over backward and tumble off the platform, we learned to wait for the verifying, "CLEAR!" from the person in front of you before beginning the next heart pounding action, and we learned how to clip on to the cables before plunging yourself hundreds of feet down to the next wooden platform cleverly built high into the tall Douglas fir trees.

After a brief practice course we were ready to go. One by one we watched the other climb a 30 foot wall with grips for our hands and feet. The cousins wanted to stick together but with only three allowed on a platform at a time, Mike decided to go after his boys, then I would follow after Dominic and Samuel with Jordan bringing up the rear for our group. I had no concern with Sam climbing the wall. He has been climbing the walls at our house, literally and without grips, for years. I've always called him my monkey boy. My worry came when he was ready to jump off the platform before I got to the top. It was time for me to trust. Trust that he paid attention to the instructor about clipping on properly, trust that he wasn't fooling around, trust his Guardian Angel would see him to the other side.

Just as I reached the top of the giant wall, Sam began his speedy zip-line ascent to the other side over 200 feet away. That would be the shortest of six "zips" or zip lines. I laughed as he hollered with excitement while he flew through the air and I paused to make sure he made it to the other side. I then waited to hear, "Clear!" The boys' best laid plans of sticking together fell apart as us parents somehow, and I think mostly subconsciously, inserted ourselves among them. After I heard Samuel yell I got in position for my own 22 mile-per-hour surge through the air. The hardest part was the initial jump, but once that was accomplished it was smooth sailing through the forest. I delighted as the wind whirled around me and trees zoomed by in my peripheral vision, I think I even remember seeing my mom smiling many feet below, but my eyes were on that platform and making sure I didn't miss the part of the cable I needed to grab onto at the end. Samuel was waiting on the other side and we high-fived each other as we set out to attempt the next challenge.

The rest of the course consisted of a series of exciting and interesting challenges that tie six sections of "zips" together. There were swinging bridges with spaced-apart slats to step across; loosely suspended cargo nets to climb; a tight rope to walk; and a series of fixed and swinging planks to balance on. We cheered one another on took courage in knowing that "if they can do it so can I".

One of my favorites moments was when I was making my way across the first swinging bridge and as I looked down I saw a doe and her fawn wandering around on the forest floor directly beneath me. I could literally look below my feet and see the tops of their backs and soft brown heads. Another memorable moment was when I reached a point on the course where, Samuel in front of me and Dominic behind me, were at least 300 feet away on either end of two zip lines, it felt as though I were the only one in the forest. I stopped 45 feet above the ground and took in the scenery around me. The sun shone through the trees and its rays penetrated the forest in varying directions. All around me bright golden leaves fell silently; a slow steady descent to the earth. I felt lucky to be alive, to be able to save that moment in my memory bank to withdraw when the stress of life seems overbearing.

After completing the course we enjoyed the 50-minute tram ride through the 450-acre free roaming area populated by bison, elk, moose, bighorn sheep, mountain goats, deer and a variety of other animals. The adventure course and the sight of the animals made me aware of several things:

My children will always be my little 'kids', and oftentimes because of our own fallen human nature, we will inevitably butt heads, I love them will all my heart, I will support them in the challenges that come their way and I will trust that as they grow, having been given a good example, they will make the right choices.

 

Various pictures of the day. Many of the challenges were very high up. The pictures of us actually zip lining were fantastic views of blurry trees. For more info visit: http://www.nwtrek.org/zipwild/

 

 

It's all His Fault

“No matter how calmly you try to referee, parenting will eventually produce bizarre behavior, and I'm not talking about the kids. Their behavior is always normal.”  ― Bill Cosby

  

 "Their behavior is always normal." I wondered about that yesterday as I felt like I was losing control over a situation involving one of my children...who just so happens to be one of my students. I mentioned previously that my youngest child, Cecelia, is in my Kindergarten class this year. I worried about how that would work out. When I taught Isabelle last year we had our run-ins. She, however, is a people pleaser and although she tested the boundaries for awhile we ended the school year on good terms and with great memories.

Cecelia is not a people pleaser. In fact, being the baby of the family, she pretty much thinks the world revolves around her.  It doesn't help that she has a sense of humor that mirrors my own and I can't help but crack a smile many times when I am trying to discipline her.

When we were growing up, my younger sister, who is ten years younger than I, could get away with murder by producing insta-tears and crying out, "I'M JUST A LITTLE GIRL!" She was situated in the family after three boys with a boy right after her. Yes, she had our dad wrapped pretty securely around her finger. Cecelia, however, has my dad wrapped even tighter around her tiny little finger. It was her that brought my father out of diaper duty retirement. He would volunteer to change her. She would lunge into his arms as a little baby and sit with him for hours. Yes, she was his little girl, and he her knight in shining armor.

They have spent a lot of time together as he watched her while I worked and the others were in school. She actually thinks she is his boss. It's pretty cute....and disgusting. Even before the previous school year ended my dad began to get mild depression as he realized she would soon be in school, she was growing up.

Then came the move. Her and my dad under one roof. Him trying unsuccessfully to stifle laughs as her haughty little ways would get her into trouble with her siblings (who, by the way, most of the time also treat her like she is a little princess). She would go to him and vent and he would feed her ego with sympathy. This was all very repugnant and nauseating really.

But then there were those moments when I'd catch them deep in conversation, both taking each other very seriously. Sometimes I'd find them sound asleep on the couch hand in hand, and oftentimes when Cecelia would get excited about something or other she'd say, "I can't wait to tell Papa!" The love these two have for one another is palpable.

And so it is, without animosity, that I blame my dad for days like yesterday.

It started out well, so well, in fact, that I marvelled several times at how cooperative this year's students behaved. They were helping one another, quickly falling into routine, using complete sentences and being very respectful.

Just before we needed to leave for Mass, though, Cecelia somehow managed to jab the inside of her mouth with her pencil. She opened up and cried and cried for all the other classes to hear. From that point on she was weepy, tired and melancholic, she was simply "too tired" to behave well in church, even with the warning that she would have to take a nap during recess if she didn't stop whining.

And so, there she was. While all the other kids were joyfully playing outside during a lucky moment when the sun broke through the unpredictable dark clouds that come with our indecisive fall weather (which earlier in the day produced a very uncommon-for-this-area tornado) Cecelia lie bundled up on our classroom's bean bag chair with a blanket tucked up to her ears, sound asleep.

After recess, she woke up to the sound of the other children returning from the fresh air. She seemed like she was in a good mood and so I looked forward to the rest of the afternoon. It wasn't long, however, that her own personal gray cloud began to hover once again above her head. When our priest entered the classroom to visit the children, the other students stood up right on cue and greeted him with, "Good afternoon, Father!" Cecelia sat there without batting an eye and continued with what she was doing. To make a long, irritating story short, she had to receive a consequence for her bad behavior when we got home.

In my conversation with her before her "early" bedtime I asked her why she acted the way she did today. The truth came out. She was upset because during our Math meeting (one of the first things of the day) she was called on to identify the triangle instead of the coveted parallelogram. Yep! That was all it took. When I heard this I wanted to both pull my hair out and die laughing all at the same time. Tears actually built up in my eyes as I tried my hardest to show absolutely no sign of amusement. Who would have known a four sided geometrical figure could be the cause of such distress!

Now, I have to decide by tomorrow if I should avoid possible future meltdowns by calling on her to tell the class that the blue shape is a parallelogram, or let her know she doesn't always get what she wants and force her to name one of the less phonetically enjoyable shapes. Oh, the dilemmas of teaching your own children!