Today we climbed trees.
It is one of those Sunday’s when the sky is heavy, grey, still, pushing down the up and coming week into your subconscious.
After an early morning shuffle (first run with a friend and I loved it) and a weeks worth of washing attacked we needed to take the air.
We walked through our local park and Crazy showed us her favourite tree and before I knew it she was at the highest branches happily telling us of a dare that she had - no hands for over 10 seconds.
Far out she was so high. I was on the bottom branches and that felt high. But she was way up. Neck breakingly high.
I grew up in a house where any dare devil antics were done on the sly, a risk aversive house. I know how the gasps affected me, how it even now stops me from taking risks, having to push myself to show my junior no fear.
I don’t want to stop this daring baby of mine. She is so brave. Not just in her ability to scramble up a tree like a lithe little squirrel then wave her hands in the air like she’s dancing to 80’s hip hop, but in her ability to be an awesome 10 year old.
Braving the ups and downs of friendships, trying new things, being comfortable in who she is.
I know that for her to keep climbing trees, throwing herself into risky situations sometimes I will just have to turn away, hyperventilating privately into a bag.