What a great day. I don’t have much time to write tonight, but I wanted to post two pics from today. We went geocaching at White Clay Creek today. We actually never found the geocache, but we ended up becoming immersed in this amazing trail. It was really small, so we had to walk single-file, and the overgrowth was tremendous. We were truly walking right into the heart of the forest.
We walked on this path for about 20 minutes before coming to clearing at a field. We then proceeded to walk on this mowed path in the field, and then eventually onto another trail into the forest. After over an hour I began to worry that we’d have to double back. We assumed it would just come out ok, but we were just getting deeper and deeper into the forest. We found some new stream-lets and tons of beautiful wild flowers.
And then all of the sudden, we were out! We found Creek Rd and walked it back to our car. It was amazing. Here are two pics.
Here we are at a little streamlet we found. It was so muddy!
Just hanging out on fathers day :)
So today the kids and I were driving home from dart wars with their cousins (very fun) and I remembered an idea that I’ve had many, many times. You see, whenever we go to “the creek” as we call it (really its a large state park with a great creek running through it) after it has rained, I’ll tell the kids how cool it must be to see the creek while it’s raining. I always tell them, someday we’ll have to do that.
Well someday was today.
We were driving by the creek, and the thought jumped into my head—it’s been raining for two days!—so I turned into the parking lot. Yes! I remembered! And I have to say, it was amazing.
We hiked around “oohing” and “aahing” over how big the creek was after two straight days of rain. We couldn’t cross in one part, so we had to hike all the way up and around this big hill to get to our favorite place and check it out. Once we got there, this little rivulet that is usually small enough to jump over, had grown to about 5 feet wide.
So…we built a bridge. I hurt myself in the process, but it was worth it.
As we attempted to cross said bridge, Mathea slipped and plunged her foot into the icy waters. Tears and fear (not tears for fear – that would have been cool) followed and they were only slightly assuaged when I assured her, “I’ll have to throw you across!”
So I heaved her across to Elliot, who caught her with waiting arms. And we continued to explore. It was awesome.
On the way back, I was tired and didn’t really want to hike all the way around again, so I decided to go the normal route and see how much water really stood in our way. It was quite a lot. Not deep, just wide, and deep enough to totally soak your shoes. So I decided to take my shoes and socks off and carry the kids across. It was getting later and we wanted to get home for dinner. Crossing this way we’d be at the car in 3 minutes; the other way would take a good 15.
As I crossed carrying Mathea, Samuel says, “Dad – can we do that!?!?” And this was one of those moments when (in my opinion) to be a good parent you have to fight parental instincts. I wanted to say no for all sorts of good parental reasons—it’s too cold; you might slip; I don’t want to dry your feet off and then put your shoes back on; you’ll get dirty…and so on.
On the other hand, this was a moment to say to Samuel, “I believe in you. This isn’t just for daddy, you can do this. You are strong and able and I trust you.” Remember my other post about influence versus authority? At that moment he didn’t want to cross the icy waters barefoot because I told him to. He wanted to cross because I was doing it and he wanted to be like me. So cool.
I said yes.
He and Elliot rocked it.
I told all three of them how cool I thought they were—the coolest kids on all the earth. And that I am so blessed to have the chance to be their daddy.
What a great day.
I had a great day today. Really. One of those days where you sit down after it’s all done and just say “thank you.” My greatest days often involve me getting to be with Mandy and the kids all day, and that was true again today. We started with soccer games (always fun!), then played at home, mowed the lawn (yes my kids like to help!), went biking at the creek, got pizza, and watched a movie together!
What I want to talk about though, was my biking adventure. I’ve been wanting to take Samuel and Elliot “mountain biking” on some trails at Fair Hill for a while now. So today, we did it. It was awesome. We finished completely covered in dirt, exhausted, bleeding, and happy. And loving each other.
But as part of this experience, I also endured this tension that often besieges me as a parent. I am a very safety conscious guy, and also have some healthy fears of traumatic events happening. Along with that, I also have a desire to not shelter my kids, and help them learn to experience the daring side of life.
So today, I decided to stretch my boys a little. I took them on a winding bike path. The further we went, the more scared Elliot got. It got smaller. There were roots. Trees on both sides. And then, all the sudden, we were biking on a tiny trail with a pretty steep drop off to the left. That’s when Elliot put his foot down.
It was heart breaking. I saw in his eyes the desire to do what Daddy was doing, but at the same time too much fear to ignore anymore. “I’m not going anymore Daddy!” So we turned around and found a wider, safer trail. Sadly, on the way back through the smaller trail, Elliot wiped out. Argh.
Now, away from all the fun, I’m thinking about that trail on top of the drop off, and I’m thinking about my little 8 and 6 year old boys, and I’m thinking – what they heck was a I thinking?!?! What if he had fallen down that drop off? What if he had gotten seriously injured? What if I couldn’t get him help in time?
Herein lies my struggle as a parent. I desire to help my kids live life and overcome fear, while I myself am actually plagued by fear of losing them. All my instincts are to shelter them, but I know this would most likely cause worse damage in the long run.
So I’m left walking away thanking God nothing worse happened, but having that gnawing knowledge that sometimes worse things do happen. And there’s nothing you can do about it, but live your life.
Does anyone else struggle like this, or I am different?