Laura and I blasted down Trapp Farm Park Tubing Hill today. Seriously, the thing was deadly steep and icy with a ramp at the bottom that sends you up and over if you don't drag your feet on the runout. At least, that's what my Oklahoma-raised mind thought. But other parents were tossing their 2 year olds down the thing alone, while I constantly berated my almost-5-year-old (holy cow, how did that happen?) to "Be Careful! Be Careful!" So I guess I might have over-reacted a bit.
Anyway, after forcing Laura to ride with her mother 4 or 5 rides, I let her go down by herself, contingent on my holding on to the tube while she got in. That last stipulation almost made her cry. She wanted to do it all by herself, darn it! "I can do it, I can do it!"
There was no flat spot at the top to get ready. As soon as your feet left the ground, you were off, down the icy slope of terror. What if she slipped and rolled or slid down the entire hill with no sled? What if she was getting in and her sled left without her? What if I slid down the hill and left her up there without me to help her? What if she got to the bottom and was slammed into by another sledder? What if her tube tipped over and dumped her out, breaking her neck? What if? What if?
Long story short, no necks were broken, and by the end, I was going first and she was jumping in her tube and following shortly after me. She had no fear, similar to her attitude when faced with ocean waves and ice skating. I only pulled her up the hill the first time, after that there were no free rides. She even pulled up her own tube once. I offered to pull it up the other times because it really was a struggle for her, and she relented on that point.
And in the end, she was proud of herself, I was proud of her and me, and we both had lots of fun, exercise, and adrenaline.
And because the Grandmas require pictures, but I forgot my camera, here are a couple unrelated shots: