A few weeks ago, I went on NW Trek’s Adventure zipline obstacle course for the second time this summer. My husband and I ran through the course over Fourth of July weekend, but I had promised my Florida friend’s daughter I would go through it with her. Besides, when I went with my husband, I “fell” off the high wire (it’s impossible to really fall off, because there are two clips that can’t be simultaneously removed). I ended up losing my balance in the middle and sitting on the wire. I had to slide off so my husband could haul me to the end, in a most ungraceful manner. With nothing but the idea of being prematurely delivered to the ground to spur me on, I managed to fling my legs back up over the wire, and pull myself onto the platform. Though I felt accomplished in righting myself and finishing, I also felt I had something to prove to that high wire. So I looked forward to giving it another go with my friend’s daughter (my girl guide, because for something so physical, I need all the help I can get).
As my girl guide and I started the course, a staff member accompanied from the beginning. He was the trainer for the staff obstacle course employees and he knew all the tricks. I told him of my physical challenges with MS and how I “fell” off the high wire a few weeks before. He told me how to also hook the pulley to the ropes so if I fell I wouldn’t end up as low. Besides the fact that he knew all the techniques, he also cheered me on each step of the way.
As I scaled the 40-foot rock climbing wall at my snail’s pace, every new foothold and lift, elicited, “great job!” Every net I struggled through, every set of planks I made my way across, there he was, congratulating me on a job well done. When I “fell” off the high wire again and didn’t give myself credit for beating it, he and my girl guide pointed out that my feet never left the wire, thanks to the extra boost the pulley clip gave me. I may have been hanging off to the side, but I “walked” my way across.
I felt like I was an 8 year old being cheered on by a favored teacher. When I relayed this to my daughters, my youngest said, “I hated being cheered on by adults. It always felt condescending.” I laughed because this was the child who when she was potty training would sit on the toilet, hold her hand up after she peed and sternly say, “Don’t say YAY.” Contrast this to my oldest who run out of the bathroom after every successful elimination and yell, “Clap!”
Nothing that worked for my oldest daughter ever worked for my youngest. When my oldest was a toddler and I started the countdown of compliance; the trick all parents use to motivate their child to do as they’re told, “one, two, three.” She would scream down the hallway in terror that I would get to three before she finished whatever it was I told her to do. I tried it on my youngest who stood there and stared at me. I asked, “What are you waiting for?” She said, I want to know what happens when you get to three.” No parent knows what happens when we get to three, we never get to three.
In spite of that it seems I’ve raised two beautiful, self-assured women. However, don’t say yay, I don’t feel like I influenced them all that much.
Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Covington. You can read more of her writing and her blog on her website livingwithgleigh.com or on Facebook at “Living with Gleigh by Gretchen Leigh,” or twitter @livewithgleigh. Her column is available every week at maplevalleyreporter.com under the Life section.
