Our daughter is something of a risk taker. She is the kid who recently, on being offered the opportunity to roller skate for the first time, immediately climbed to the top of the nearest slide, and stood up in the hope of launching herself down at Mach III. We had to build a 12 foot climbing wall and 24 inch gravel pit in our backyard to provide an outlet for her unsafe climbing urges. She asked for, and received a Skateboard for her fifth birthday, and insists on attempting to skateboard to school once a week, even though it takes us an hour to get there that way. I cannot keep her out of trees, off the diving board, or away from the big kids waterside, and last month I caught her moments before an attempted Bungee jump off of her bunk bed.
I often find myself being lectured by friends or teachers who feel she is a bad role model to other kids because of her constant need to do things for herself, and go faster and higher. So we try to confine her risk taking behaviors to controlled situations where there are not other kids who she could influence to do dangerous stuff.
But when it's just us, we apply our own metrics to with regard to what seems like an acceptable risk, in that if the terrifying activity looks highly unlikely to kill the kid, reasonably unlikely to result in broken bones or a serious concussion, and someone present knows CPR and has a phone to dial 911, then we let her do what she wants, even if it scares us.
This last weekend, we finally got some real snowfall, in the form of about 3.5 inches of super fluffy flakes. If you are me, this means one thing: Sledding. We dropped by Busy Bee hardware to consult with the experts on how to improvise a sled. After much debate on the pros and cons of sledding with minimal snow, we were gifted two plastic trash can lids with instructions to report back on how they worked.
Sunday morning bright and early Pebbles and I headed down to the mountain by the river front and spent the next two hours sliding down the hill and crashing into the bushes at the bottom. The trash can sleds were reasonably fast, but not terrifyingly so. It was awesome.
We were completely and totally alone on the hill, watching freighter's ply the river, and observing this amazingly empty city. The kid must have gone up and down the hill 45 times in the first two hours. One of the best things about Detroit is that sometimes it is so empty that it feels like my own personal city.
After two hours of solitude, we noticed a lone family trudging toward us from the direction of the carousel. On closer inspection, they were, of course, friends of ours. Chalk another one up for the smallest big city in the world.
They had one of those nifty sleds that works on runners.
Despite my initial scoffing as to whether it would work on the scant amount of snow available, that thing was fast. Like, really fast. Fortunately, these friends have the same approach to toddler risk taking that we do, and after considering the possible risks, the kid marched up to the top of the mountain, jumped on the sled, shoved off, and nearly broke the sound barrier on the way down before crashing into the bushes, flipping twice, and landing in a tangled heap face down in the snow five feet beyond the bushes.
I really thought maybe I had let her take it too far, until she rolled over, gasping for air between squeals of laughter. Our friend's eldest son wanted a go as well, and so with Pebbles steering, and him clinging on behind her, they raced down the hill over and over again, sometimes wiping out in the bushes, sometimes making the gap in the underbrush and skidding across the field below. They bonked heads once, and there were a few tears, but other than that we spent an hour letting the kids scare themselves silly.
I wish I had a video of them, but I was too busy clutching my phone preparing to phone an Ambulance. When I related the reasons for a lack of a video to my downstairs neighbor later that evening, she was like "Wow, you actually ARE human, but please don't take my son sledding with you until he's 18".
As we all left the sledding hill, we got a series of low fly-by's from the Coast Guard Chopper. Looking up, they had the doors to the chopper open and were leaning out to wave at all of us.
Most Awesome Day Ever.
I often find myself being lectured by friends or teachers who feel she is a bad role model to other kids because of her constant need to do things for herself, and go faster and higher. So we try to confine her risk taking behaviors to controlled situations where there are not other kids who she could influence to do dangerous stuff.
But when it's just us, we apply our own metrics to with regard to what seems like an acceptable risk, in that if the terrifying activity looks highly unlikely to kill the kid, reasonably unlikely to result in broken bones or a serious concussion, and someone present knows CPR and has a phone to dial 911, then we let her do what she wants, even if it scares us.
This last weekend, we finally got some real snowfall, in the form of about 3.5 inches of super fluffy flakes. If you are me, this means one thing: Sledding. We dropped by Busy Bee hardware to consult with the experts on how to improvise a sled. After much debate on the pros and cons of sledding with minimal snow, we were gifted two plastic trash can lids with instructions to report back on how they worked.
Sunday morning bright and early Pebbles and I headed down to the mountain by the river front and spent the next two hours sliding down the hill and crashing into the bushes at the bottom. The trash can sleds were reasonably fast, but not terrifyingly so. It was awesome.
We were completely and totally alone on the hill, watching freighter's ply the river, and observing this amazingly empty city. The kid must have gone up and down the hill 45 times in the first two hours. One of the best things about Detroit is that sometimes it is so empty that it feels like my own personal city.
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| Topping out |
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| Detroit, the smallest place on earth |
They had one of those nifty sleds that works on runners.
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| Check out this awesome sled! |
Despite my initial scoffing as to whether it would work on the scant amount of snow available, that thing was fast. Like, really fast. Fortunately, these friends have the same approach to toddler risk taking that we do, and after considering the possible risks, the kid marched up to the top of the mountain, jumped on the sled, shoved off, and nearly broke the sound barrier on the way down before crashing into the bushes, flipping twice, and landing in a tangled heap face down in the snow five feet beyond the bushes.
I really thought maybe I had let her take it too far, until she rolled over, gasping for air between squeals of laughter. Our friend's eldest son wanted a go as well, and so with Pebbles steering, and him clinging on behind her, they raced down the hill over and over again, sometimes wiping out in the bushes, sometimes making the gap in the underbrush and skidding across the field below. They bonked heads once, and there were a few tears, but other than that we spent an hour letting the kids scare themselves silly.
I wish I had a video of them, but I was too busy clutching my phone preparing to phone an Ambulance. When I related the reasons for a lack of a video to my downstairs neighbor later that evening, she was like "Wow, you actually ARE human, but please don't take my son sledding with you until he's 18".
As we all left the sledding hill, we got a series of low fly-by's from the Coast Guard Chopper. Looking up, they had the doors to the chopper open and were leaning out to wave at all of us.
Most Awesome Day Ever.
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