The path of least resistance

A few weeks ago we went on a winter hike with our don't say it, don't say it ALMOST TWO-YEAR-OLD. We brought our Kelty carrier thinking he would get tired and want a ride (that didn't happen.) It was a nice little hike up to the ledge at Lake Massabesic. We ate some fruit, watched a kettle of hawks, and climbed a tree.

On the way back we let Toby take the lead; Aaron and I lagged behind watching our kid. (It's just so weird. There was a time when he wasn't here. I can't even remember that.) While he was navigating the somewhat icy trails, which were difficult for even us, what amazed me was how he didn't take the short-cuts we adults did. He didn't take the path of least resistance; the easy way. Many times he slipped and insisted on getting up, without assistance, and continuing. He could have just reached his little arms up and his Dad would have scooped him up and carried him.

At one point he chased a leaf off the trail, through bush; the wind blowing it further each time he almost reached it. Silently I thought, "You'll never catch it. Come on, Little Buddy... let's just go." Shame on me. He was persistent and he caught it.

Many things about that experience; watching my son, humbled me and scared me. As adults we tend to take the path of least resistance. We want to do things the easiest way possible. We take shortcuts; we have an app for that. We're plugged in and tuned out. Watching my son be curious and patient really centered me to take more time. Be more curious. Let life happen. Slow down.


I knew my kid would teach me a lot about how to be a mother. Never did I think he would teach me how to be an adult. It has been a few weeks since that happened and I still can't get the moment he caught the leaf out of my mind. I want to be like my kid.