Kids are just kids

In a world where children are scheduled, pushed, and expected to do great things, I was slapped in the face with the reminder that they are still kids.

My youngest has a personality that fills the space that she occupies. Confident, always right, a born leader, so much so that sometimes I forget she's my baby. Not so anymore, for this weekend she gave me a double lesson in spades. Twice, while camping, with all her wisdom, she wandered away and got separated from me.

The first was while we searched for lost treasure; a fishing lure. While hiking along the trails by our site she laid down her newly found gold and forgot to retrieve it. Upon returning to the camper she realized her misfortune and wanted to go back into the woods to retrieve it. I asked,"Do you know where you left it?"

"Yes," was her confident response. "On the tree stump..."

I should have figured we were in for a forced march, just how many tree stumps are there in the woods? But thinking she knew what she was doing, I followed her back down to the pond and then along the shore for as long as we walked. No lure was to be seen. But then trouble started as we made our return to the site. For it was then she assured me it was down one of these side paths. I replied, "No, we didn't go that way." She was insistent. I drew a map in the dirt with a stick, showing her that we had already checked those stumps. Still she wanted to walk down this short steep cliff trail to the water's edge. I said, "Okay, but come right back."

She left. I watched her slide down the eroded path and then she was gone. I waited. Nothing. I went half way down the trail. No sign. My heart beat out past my chest wall, as I screamed her name, over and over again. No answer. I slide down the trail to the shore, sprinting up and down the path a short distance, still calling her name, which was now echoing across the water. Finally a response; a whimper, and a cry for mommy, as she came out from behind some bush. A hornet had buzzed by her while she was climbing down the trial so she tried to go back another way. That eroded trail was not longer than 30 feet. She should have been out of my site for a minute max... After recovering from this maternal near death experience, I advised her to yell for me next time she was going to have a change of plan.

Now after that, you would think she would stick close by... But the next day while we (her parents) were walking around the campground she scootered after her older sister, who was riding her bike. Both got away from us. Both I assumed would stick together. But when we got to the entrance to our section, neither child was there. My husband looked at me, and I looked at him... We then split up and walked the loop of our section, getting back to our site with only the oldest present and accounted for.

"Where is your sister?"

"I didn't know I was suppose to watch her." I jumped on my bike, with the thought of sitting her down and explaining to her that you always watch out for you siblings, and took off to find the baby yet again. I circled back, went to the playground, road the main drag in the park, cut through the woods and as I approached the site, migraine blaring, saw she had returned.

She had indeed gotten lost, and ended up crying as she walked the main park road. Her savior was a man who had heard her wimpers. He came out of the woods and asked her what was wrong. When she told him where she needed to go, he pointed her in the correct direction, and set her on her way.

Both her father and I pointed out to her and her sister, this situation could have easily gone a different way. And now for the rest of their lives, when not in school, neither one will be allowed out of my sight.

Parental lesson learned. Kids are just kids.