Friday, August 26, 2011


All summer I had been talking about taking a day trip with the kidlet down to the beach but it never seemed to be a good time. I am lucky to have a very generous friend who rented a beach house and said I could bring Monster to stay at the end of the week. I jumped on the opportunity. One, because she's a very good friend who was celebrating her 30th birthday and I wanted to see her. Two, because not having to drive 8 hours in one day in order to enjoy the beach was a welcome gift.

Because I am a dumbass, we had to run to the store to get diapers, wipes and sunscreen before we hit the beach. That taken care of, we were ready to go. Well, mostly Monster was. I found myself out of breath and seized by panic for most of the time. The. Child. Is. Fearless. He ran toward the water. He was undeterred by the loud crashing of the waves or the cold water. If a wave knocked him down, he would pause but then he was right back in there screeching with joy and laughing his head off.

I have to say, I love his fearlessness. Yes, it means I have to be on my toes constantly and I can never relax or blink, but I swell with pride to see him run to the surf or edge of the pool and just jump right in. He’s not afraid of a tall slide or to swing high and I hope he never is. My challenge is to nurture this almost insane confidence. I don’t want him to be afraid. My wish is for him to always move forward no matter what lies in front of him, be it crashing waves, loss, the objections of his peers, or any obstacle, literal or figurative.

Yes, I’m exhausted from the day at the beach but I would rather be tired from keeping up with him as he experiences everything than coaxing him just to get him to do anything.

1 comment:

  1. I often say Peanut is fearless too. She "trust falls" off our sofa with the blind assumption that one of us sitting nearby will know we're supposed to catch her. She had no qualms about going down the biggest slide at Rita's playground, on her own, at 18 months old.

    But the ocean was a different story. It was hit and miss with her: one day she'd think it was awesome; the next day, she forgot about her adventures the day before and would only come near that moving H2O if she were safely slung against one of our hips.