Toddlers and the love of the climb!

My kids had their first real experience with rock scrambling this Christmas. The site was close to where my in-laws live and my husband and I had been there before. You know, BF. Before kids. One of the most fantastic parts of this particular “rock park” (for lack of better term) is the vast variation in difficulty. There is a flat path that curves around the base of the rock structures that would even support a stroller if needed and provides access to every part of the park. There are easy (or easier) paths up the rock and there are harder climbs that take you to cliffs of decent elevation and that require focus for safety. Technical climbers could also find a few spots to play. 

My kids have never been physically adventurous.  I have continued to encourage them, but I haven’t pushed too hard. And I certainly haven’t worried about it. I figured they would 1) outgrow it- in which case the worry was unnecessary. 2) Learn to work through it- in which case our worry would actually hinder their willingness to do the work happily or 3) Not get past it- in which they would become physically cautious adults. Oh well. 

But I digress. 

So, my kids are now 4 and rock scrambling is not something that they are hugely familiar with. We packed their winter boots, water proof and with good traction, in case of snow. But we also thought about their worth for this adventure. Wow, that was good planning. They would have lasted 2 minutes in their sneakers.

They were fabulous. They climbed through crevices and splashed in big muddy puddles. They evaluated points of escalation to determine the best route, calmly and methodically. They slid down wet and muddy rocks are their butts when the drop was too high. They grinned and bounced, reaching their hands up for support when needed and plodding along confidently when they felt secure. The pictures were amazing. My daughter even smiled for pictures, something she doesn’t do all that often these days. We were thrilled.

Did they care that it was cold, with a heavy and rainy mist in the air? Nope… not for a second. Did they care that they were so filthy; they had to be stripped before getting into their car seats? Nope… not at all. (They actually thought it was funny that we were stripping and redressing them in the back of the car.) They enjoyed their hot chocolates and snacks at the little snack stand, but they never complained. And when we returned a few days later for a repeat of the fun, they ran for the rocks excitedly, eager to get started. 

It made my heart soar. 

In the literal sense, I could not care less that my kids excel at climbing rocks. But I do care in the metaphorical sense. 

I care, quite deeply, that my children see challenges instead of walls. I care that, when presented with a problem, they are able to stop and evaluate their next choice with intelligence and maturity. I care that they are not afraid to ask for help when they need it, but don’t always jump to the assumption that they can’t finish independently.  I care that aren’t afraid to get a litte, or a lot, dirty in the process. And I REALLY care that they approach challenge with a smile and a sense of adventure. The love of the climb. 

I am so proud of my kids.