We’ve just returned from a glorious break in Leicester, fantastic company, amazing weather and exciting activities. We were with a large group of friends and sometimes moved as a mob of twenty slightly unyielding but good fun.
On Sunday we went to Conkers in the National Forest perfect sunny day to be outside, real sun shine for the soul stuff.
All was going well, calm, gentle even, quiet..............
Until we stumbled upon an assault course –
‘This assault course is for adults and teenager definitely NOT (capital letters underlined) for children’ the sign proclaimed.
But everyone knows babies can’t read and the 18 month old thought it was not only his wish and desire but he’s god given birth right to climb on a six foot wall with a knotted rope!
Yes, my very own danger baby wanted to climb, crawl and swing over an army style assault course like his big cousins were doing – them assisted by the Dads and him bravely trying to monkey bar, under net and hurdle walls..........
He was determined.
Then the rope bridge, tricky even for the Dads and almost ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ in its proportions – (I did say almost!) Rickety and swinging in the wind as cautious reeboked feet teetered across.
The 18 month old was single minded in his tenacious determination to get across this bridge.
I tried to distract with bubbles – usually a winner! He faltered for a minute..... ‘Bubbles darling, look bubbles!’
‘ Buba!!’ he replied - he popped a few, chased a few then caught sight once again of his holy grail and marched off in the direction of the plank that leads the way.
By this time quite a noisy war had begun between me and the crazy baby, he yelled and screamed his most vocal protestation over my now pathetic and inept, ‘Bubbles! LOoooook!’
The peace of the national forest now blown so in a gallant bid to quiet him, my brother took him up to the plank ramp for a walk to the top. My brothers effort to make him see it really was too high for a baby – even a krypton factor style baby – to attempt.....alas only fuelled his now single passion, he reason for living, his one true goal - was to become master of this rope bridge, yes master. Baby overlord of the bridge, the forest, the world, neehahaha!!!!!!
Eventually the noise became unbearable and I scooped up the writhing screaming mass of 40% snot 60% baby and with him in full on tantrum mode I strode our way, partner and 4 year old in tow, to the willow labyrinth.
The labyrinth proclaimed itself to be different to a maze, a solvable, ancient pattern of meditative proportion. A pensive space to contemplate questions big or small as you can imagine the angry faced toddler belting out a rhythmic squealing lament kind of rid the space of the reflective quality the landscape gardeners intended.
10 minutes later he was running through the labyrinth killing bad dragons and shaking hands with good ones with his brother.
Crisis over for now.........
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