The other day we ventured out on the town and found ourselves(ok somebody told Dan about it) the perfect little park. Not only did this park have the worlds best playground, lots of grass, benches, running trails and squirrels; it also had it's own small hill to climb.
About 20 minutes after getting to the park we decided to climb up this hill. The boys were squealing with excitement as they ran from the playground to where we would start our hike. Just about the time Camden started leaning forward putting his hands on his thighs, I too could feel the burn. Camden kept saying, "this is hard" as he proudly took another step. The closer we got to the top, the more our feet slipped in the sand. While Dan carried Jace, I cautiously grabbed Camden's hand the rest of the way up.
Once we made it to the top they both jumped up and down yelling, "WE DID IT". And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't feeling a little proud myself.
After spending a couple minutes enjoying our view, we decided it was time to head back down. Looking down on the path we had just hiked, it seemed to me like a death trap. That same steep hill we had just climbed, looked like a cliff off the side of a giant mountain. I had convinced Dan it would be too hard to go down with the boys and we needed to take an easier trail. Unfortunately there was not another way down. The trail I thought connected, didn't. Now how was I to tell Camden we needed to go back down after He had just heard me yelling...I mean....convincing his Dad we couldn't. My legs were shaking as I tried to be brave, and Camden was crying as he reluctantly followed.
Dan explained to Camden if he held one of my hands, and used his other to hold the rope, we would be fine. But this time when Camden yelled out, "this is hard", his pride was gone and I could sense his fear. I found myself telling him(and me), "I know this is hard but we can do hard things".
One shaky little step at a time we made it down.