Hiking Camp Long

Dawson said,"I want to go somewhere." He says this in the morning, when we don't have any plans. The menu of where we go is long a varied, and we have gotten into the habit of somewhere being far enough away that bus or car is necessary. In the past few weeks, I have caught myself several times giving in when Dawson seems restless. One time it was to the aquarium. Another time it was to the Junction. These activities satisfy his need for stimulation. But even on the bus, they are ritual of a highly mobile & consumptive society.

I aspire to be able to calmly set a limit and say,"Let's stay home" more often. But today, I did the next best thing. We hitched the bike trailer to my bike, stuffed snacks and extra clothes into a backpack, and headed for Camp Long. Dawson and I wandered up the trail from the Brandon Street entrance. After five minutes, Dawson was lobbying for me to carry him. I told him that I could carry him, but I would only do that if we were going home. He obviously had a desire to get to Camp Long, because he persisted forward, though he asked me several more times to be carried.

We ultimately spent three hours at Camp Long. He walked by himself over a mile. I carried him only for the last 200 feet back to our bicycle. As we were leaving, he said,"Lets go to Camp Long again!" I felt so satified to have done something "lower on the food chain".

What did it take? It took me being tired of getting in the car, tolerating my anxiety about setting limits, and sticking with him, instead of having an agenda. At any moment I was ready to pick him up and go back home if needed. I made it so that he was responsible for forward progress. That made the pace his. I went along, mostly.