Our daughter is a wanderer. Last month she managed to escape school. She found an opportunity during lunch; she slipped through the door into the gymnasium, and then out another set of doors onto the back lawn. Luckily a teacher saw her sprinting across the grass through a window—but she made it across the street and into the neighborhood before they caught her.
I wonder where she would have gone if that teacher hadn’t noticed her running across the grass.
I like to think I know my child pretty well. We sometimes practice walking without holding hands in safe areas, hoping to teach her the importance of staying with us even when we are not physically tethered. And it works for a while. But any random thing might catch her eye and she’s off—no hesitation or care in the world outside of getting to her destination.
Sometimes she just likes how a certain house looks and wants to go inside. Maybe someone has a porch swing, or she’s thirsty and sees a cup. She will drink out of any cup. ANY cup. But nothing excites her more than a body of water.
We recently visited some old friends who live on a small lake. It was a good visit for Teghan. She ate cake and played on their swing set. We knew the lake would be a temptation, but she seemed content to swing. We knew eventually she would go to the edge of the water and plunge a foot in. We aren’t new– we were prepared for that. What we were not prepared for was her unexpected sprint toward the lake, down the dock…. and that confident leap she took off the end of it. Continue reading