Which is best? Maple? Oak? Ash?

Kids seem to have an infatuation with climbing trees. I suppose that's part of why tree forts are such a hit for kids ... a grown-up free zone AND they get to climb a tree to get to it. I haven't been able to figure out exactly why this is so exciting or intriguing. Personally, I have absolutely no interest in climbing anything ... I am ridiculously afraid of heights.

My kids don't have any fear of climbing a tree--and, as a matter of fact, they will see random trees and ponder the "climbability" of them ... sometimes asking if they can verify their hunches. (I usually say "no" ... not just because I'm a party pooper or buzz kill. It has everything to do with my fear of heights and the issue I'm about to share.)

So, climbing is all fun and happy for them, but my kids are afraid to come back down a tree on their own. I don't know how many times they've been outside playing and one of them will come running in with a plea for help for the other ... "Mommy! Austin's halfway up the tree and he's stuck. He needs your help." Well, as long as the child up the tree is within my reach, I can be of help. If they get higher than that, they are S.O.L. unless Tim's home. (That could also stand for Stuck On a Limb .... either expression works.)

It's only happened once ... that they were too high up the tree for me to rescue them. It was one of the beautiful days last Fall, luckily on a weekend, and Austin came in and said that Maya needed me. He had no sense of urgency, no concern in his voice ... he almost seemed annoyed that he had been sent in to fetch one of the parental units for his sister. I didn't figure it was a pressing matter, so I finished up what I was doing and casually headed for the door. When I looked out, I saw Maya about 20 feet off the ground, at the top of their favorite climbing tree. (When I say "top of the tree", it should be noted that I literally mean TOP of the tree ... you know, where the branches are thin and weak ... not good for someone to be climbing and standing on.) I hollered for Tim ... something along the lines of "Tim!! Tim!!! Tim!!!!!!! Hurry up! Maya's all the way in the top of the tree!" Clever wording, huh?!

We both grabbed shoes and hurried out the front door. Maya was very nervous, slightly teary-eyed and ready to let go, if Daddy would catch her. Tim surveyed the situation and determined that he would need to go up and get her, he wouldn't be able to guide her down verbally, she was too freaked out and showing a lack of patience in all of it. So, up he started, all the while telling her to stay where she was and hold on. Once he finally got up close enough to her, she nearly lunged for his arms ... slightly before he was prepared for it.

Worth noting that I'm on the ground, looking up at all of this, terrified that the branches will break or that she'd come tumbling out of the tree before he can get there. My lack of emotional stability (read: state of terror) didn't translate into helpful communication. I remember telling Maya that she needed to hold on and that Daddy was on his way, trying to sound comforting and calming to her. Apparently I wasn't very effective in doing that since Tim turned to me at one point and said, "Jen! Easy!! Just calm down." So, I tried to breathe more and talk less.

At that point Maya was in Tim's arms and they would have begun the descent. One problem: Tim realized that he was in an awkward position in the tree and wouldn't really be able to maneuver down while holding Maya. He asked if I thought I'd be able to grab / catch her from that point in the tree. "Yes. Definitely. I think so." Being the practical and safety-oriented person he is, he wanted to know which of my answers was the official one: "definitely" or "I think so" ... because those are quite different. It was "definitely" ... I could grab her from there. So he slowly and carefully lowered her toward me. She was mostly dangling--because she wasn't doing very much to position her feet on any branches or hold on to anything--with her legs still about 6 feet or so off the ground. I reached up as much as I could and was able to get my hands on her. "Do you have her, Jen? Do you have her? I'm not letting go until you're sure you've got her. Tell me when you've got her." Once I said I was sure I had a secure hold, he let go and Maya dropped into my arms. She was smiley and slightly giggly, asking if I had seen how high she was. The fear and trepidation were gone for her the instant she hit the ground, and she seemed to see the event as exciting again--like she felt on the way up the tree.

I suppose that's what the kids are thinking of today, as they're outside climbing that same tree right now ... "isn't this fun?" No, kids, it's not fun for me at all.