Every year we try to celebrate our kids’ birthdays with a fun family outing. This year, for my daughter’s 12th birthday we headed to Canton for Tree Top Adventures. Usually for something like this, I play the role of “mom” by taking care of everyone (as the ‘holder of waters’ and ‘taker of pictures’). However, my husband and kids insisted that I partake in this venture despite it being completely out of my comfort zone.
We sat through the mandatory safety training with all the other climbers and then we got harnessed up. At this point I was feeling a bit of anxiety, but nothing beyond what’s healthy given that we were about to be 60’ off the ground. So far so good! In their excitement, Eva (13) and Shayla (12) rushed us over to the first climb – where they quickly made their way up to the first obstacle without so much as breaking a sweat. I followed, thinking “this will be easy!” Spoiler alert: it wasn’t. And I’m not talking about the physical aspect of it, though that part was definitely challenging.
What they don’t tell you about in safety training are the mental gymnastics you’ll be doing trying to ignore the blaring red alarms in your brain. Somewhere between the second platform and a wobbly suspension bridge, I became intensely aware that I was a mother dangling in the canopy of suburban Massachusetts. The thought hit me like a brick wall: What if I fall? Who takes care of the kids if their mom splats into a pine tree? It was irrational—I was triple-harnessed and overly secured—but fear, as it turns out, is deeply unconcerned with logic.
Over the next two hours, I managed to conquer my fears and wound up having the most fun I’ve had with my children in a long time (maybe ever). I didn’t die. I didn’t even drop my phone. And nobody needed a juice box or a band-aid in the process, though I will ALWAYS be there for them if they do. It’s not lost on me that my children are growing up, needing me less in the ways they did as small kids, and that they were the ones who actually comforted me way up there in the trees!
Moral of the story? Sometimes, the scariest thing isn’t the height—it’s stepping back into your own life in a new way. Especially when you’ve been in caretaker mode for over a decade. As much as I miss the younger days, I’m choosing to focus on all the fun ahead with two older kids and the newfound freedom it allows me on birthday adventures like these.

