I shouted into the wind, hoping to stop Ezra from racing up a steep cliff that, to my eyes, looked dangerous. To Ezra’s eyes, it looked “AWESOME!”
“It’s okay, Zach. You can go up higher. Why don’t you try that path on the left?”
Zach was definitely NOT going to follow Ezra up that scary pass. If he had his druthers, we’d all head back to the car before anyone got hurt.
Nafisa, happy to go up any pass if we all wanted to do it, preferred to hang back and take pictures. She had planned out her outfits for the trip, with matching headbands, scarfs, and shoes. A trip to the desert would not be nearly as much fun if there weren’t great pictures of it to post on Instagram.
Parenting these three children, with different temperaments, genders, and ages, is a juggling act of pushing, pulling, and praying.
Getting that the juggling act just right consumes a lot of my time. Too much time. I have no doubt about that; but I am not sure how to stop myself. What are you supposed to do when you homeschool, teach Sunday school, and have too many education degrees? I like reading about parenting. I like writing about parenting. Even as I pour all my parenting energies into avoiding helicopter parenting, I am aware of the irony. Still, no aspect of our children’s lives escapes my thoughtful gaze.
Over the next few posts, I’ll share more of Thompson’s logic for camp, and you can write in to let me know what you think. To get us started, I’d like to pose a question that Thompson asks his audiences when he travels around the country talking to parents.
What was the sweetest moment of your childhood? (He reminds his audience not to dissect the question, but to just let their minds wander, confident that a scene will come to mind.) So, what your sweetest memory?