Yesterday we were looking for something fun to do with the kids. We ran through the usual suspects of Philly area attractions but none were floating our boat. Tom remembered a woman he works with loves to take her girls to a rock climbing gym in Oaks. We made a call, set up an appointment, and loaded our two monkeys into the car.
Grace loves to climb. She loves it so much I wonder if she actually is part monkey. Luke isn't that much of a climber. If it can't be tackled, thrown, or kicked, he's generally not interested. We thought it would be something different to try. There's only so many times we can go to the zoo. Or the Franklin Institute. Or the Academy. So off we went.
Tom endured the climbing lesson while I entertained the kids. Then they were ready to climb. As expected, Grace took off. Her first few climbs were on the short side. But then she got bolder and bolder and pretty soon was flying up a 30 foot wall. I watched as Tom belayed her. The usual things ran through my head:What if she slips? What if her sugar goes low? How will I reach her if her sugar is low? What if she falls? I was watching Tom watching Grace and I knew he had her. It's not like he's ever dropped her or anything. Except that once when she was a baby and it wasn't really his fault. Kind of. His eyes were locked on her and I swear I could see little grey hairs popping out everywhere. But I knew he had her.
Grace repeatedly went up the giant walls. A few times I locked eyes with Tom and he just nodded. We were both thinking the same thing. Nothing stops this kid. Seriously, nothing. She didn't slip or fall and we had no problems with managing sugar. She did awesome. We talked about it later and both agreed that seeing Grace do stuff like that just makes our hearts swell. Here is our girl about 30 feet off the ground: