Let boys climb trees.

A week or two ago, I stumbled across an article about how in America we overprotect our children. We don't let them do things where they can get hurt and therefore, they never learn how to set their own boundaries.

One of the things mentioned in the article is that we should let kids climb trees. I read this and thought "I agree with that, we should let kids climb trees." So, I did what any good mom would do...I waited until Ben got home and then told him it was now part of his fatherly duties to teach Connor how to climb a tree. Ben embraced this idea and agreed that there was nothing wrong with some good old fashioned tree climbing.

Here is the problem. When I think about letting kids climb trees, I am thinking in my mind about a small tree at a park. I think about how you could do a tree survey and find the best tree for climbing. The kind of tree where if you fell out of the tree you'd maybe twist your ankle and get a few scrapes. Oh, and it should probably also have notched out footholds and come with some sort of safety harness where you can't actually fall and get hurt. Ever.

When Ben thinks about teaching Connor how to climb a tree he does not envision safety harnesses or foot holds. He doesn't see any reason to inspect seventy five trees and then decide which one provides the overall best climbing experience with the least amount of risk. In fact, all he really does is look out the front door and then say "hey Connor, do you want to climb that tree out there?"

This brought out many concerns from me. Such as:

1. Aren't those branches too small?
2. What if he falls and breaks his neck?
3. He is going to get stuck up there! 
4. What if he falls and breaks his neck?

To which Ben responded:

1. No. They aren't too small. Connor doesn't weigh very much. 
2. He would likely break his leg or his arm, not his neck. 
3. If he gets stuck then he'll have to figure out how to get unstuck. We can't climb this tree. 
4. If he fell he would hit most of those branches on the way down and that would help break his fall. 

I don't find any of these answers satisfactory. And, I usually end up leaving Ben and Connor outside with these parting words: "I'm going in. If he falls and breaks his neck, I'm not going to watch it happen." 

Now Connor is a tree climbing fool. He climbs this tree almost everyday with the ultimate goal of reaching the very top of the tree before I freak out and tell him it is time to get down and that he has climbed far enough. 

I think I might be a mom.