Extreme camping in the backyard

As you may have read in my previous columns, I used to (as in past tense) be an active outdoorsman — camping, backpacking and fishing.
However, in the past few years I have found a number of excellent excuses to avoid such an exercise in physical discomfort — such as, too tired, too busy, too hot, too cold, my kids are too young, I'm too old, etc. In an effort to regain my sense of adventure and share the experience of the outdoors with my 4-year-old son, I decided to take him camping.
For any of you who have made a foray into the wild outdoors, you know the amount of preparation that goes into the trip. Now, add a 4-year-old into your planning and things get interesting. Considering this was his first experience sleeping outside, it seemed wise to take our first trip into the wild outdoors to the backyard. It's not exactly Yellowstone, but there is this gang of squirrels that has a real nasty attitude that creates a unique sense of adventure and it is closer to home in case he gets “homesick.”
As I dusted off and started to set up our “new” tent from the garage (see previous column for that reference), I sent my son to his room to grab some “supplies” to take on our adventure. As you wilderness-savvy individuals know, the first rule in pitching a tent is to find a flat piece of land. This does not exist in my yard (our tent location would make a better slide than sleeping quarters). I knew this was going to make for an additional level of discomfort, but still no reason to kill a child's spirit of adventure (my back may argue this point, but my brain won the argument).
As I finished setting up our tent and started working on our campfire (for the traditional camping delicacy of S'mores) my son came out with his backpack full of his “supplies” from his room. His pack weighed nearly as much as he did.
When we opened his pack to see what “supplies” he was bringing to the campsite, I was immediately impressed by the fact that he grabbed a flashlight for both of us. As we dug deeper into the pack, he poured out approximately 20 Hot Wheels. When I asked him why he brought the Hot Wheels, he simply said, “We need something to play with Daddy.” Of course.
After a full evening of playing and talking, the young boy fell sound asleep, visions of our next adventure floating through his pleasant dreams. I, on the other hand, struggled to get comfortable. One rock, no matter where I moved, seemed on a mission to break my spine (making it difficult to stand up straight the next day). By morning, we had lost the battle against gravity. The hillside tent placement, all of our “supplies” and the two people inside the tent were crammed against the bottom of the tent.
Despite the sliding, the jabbing pain in my spine and the lack of sleep, once we were settled into our tent next to our fire with bellies full of marshmallows under a cloudless sky, my son turned to me and said, “Isn't this great Daddy? We're camping!” Yes it is buddy, yes it is.
Ultimately, camping with my son was one of the highlights of my summer and while camping in the backyard is not “extreme” adventure, it is a small step toward greater adventures.
As far as my son is concerned, when my wife asked him if he had fun, he said, “I want to go camping for nap time. I love camping so much I want to go every day.” Oh boy, my back is already hurting again.

I'm no superman, but my son believes I am!

Yesterday, my son wanted to wear his Superman pajamas all day long. He has taken to calling himself, “Super Jackson”. He has been known to run into our living room, in full superhero gear yelling, “SuperJackson to the rescue!” He has not yet tried to jump off the roof and fly, but we are worried. My three year old son has become a full fledged superhero, or at the very least, a super fan of superheroes.

Superman was also my favorite superhero. I collected his comic book for many years as a child. He is widely considered to be an American cultural icon. Superman was originally created in 1938 and appeared first in Action Comics #1 in June of that year. He was known the Man of Tomorrow, or more recently the Man of Steel. I am such a fan that even as an adult, I still have a growing collection of Superman paraphernalia. But why is it that we love Superman? Is it that he represents what we want to be or is it that we see some of ourselves in the Man of Steel? The truth probably lies somewhere in between.

Superman represents the best this world has to offer. He is a righteous role model who seeks justice and fights for those that cannot defend themselves. He can fix any problem, right any wrong, and protect us from the “bad guys”. And yet despite so many strengths, we find in our hero many weaknesses. He is an outsider, an orphan from the planet Krypton with no family to be found. He has difficulty expressing his feelings (especially when it comes to the lovely Lois Lane). Despite his super powers, he hides behind the mild-mannered, dual-identity of Clark Kent. Then there is the ever dangerous kryptonite that steals the powers of our caped crusader. Can’t we all relate to this guy, a man with a pure heart to do good, yet suffering from so many weaknesses?

Our children need to believe in a Superman. They need that safety; they need that security in their little worlds. It was the highlight of my day recently when my son jumped into my arms and said, “You my Superman, Daddy!” The truth is, we ARE Superman. Despite our many flaws and weaknesses (by the way, for those of you looking for my weakness - pizza is my kryptonite), we are our children’s heroes. We don’t have to be faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. But we do need to be there. We need to be present and we need to love them, unconditionally. Allow yourself to be inspired by the vision your child has of you. Be a hero, better yet, be a SUPER hero! For more information on how your can be your child’s Superman, contact me at mryerson@unitedwaybc.com or 472-9876.

Matt Ryerson is the Vice President of Community Investment Strategies at the United Way of Bradley County. He has a beautiful wife and two wonderful children (one of which often wears a cape to bed). He is the human to Tucker the dog. His column appears in the Cleveland Daily Banner every Wednesday. He recently found out that his mother threw out all of his old comics long ago. Tears were shed.

The Boy with No Fear and his Cowardly Father

For some reason the operator of the Ferris wheel at the local carnival had stopped our car at the very highest point of its rotation. At the same time, the power to this rickety ride went out. We were stuck at the top. All I could think was, “Are you kidding me?!?!” I do not enjoy heights and I don’t particularly trust the rides at most traveling carnivals (let me pause for a moment and say, if you are a carnival owner or employee, please accept my apology, but seriously, could you clean and oil those rides once in a while? They really don’t inspire confidence!) Nonetheless, here I am, about three stories off the ground, slowly swinging back and forth on an old, run-down Ferris wheel with my son at my side.

Now don’t start questioning my wisdom, instead blame my wife, my son, and my pride. My son saw that Ferris wheel from the road and started begging for us to get on the ride before we ever got out of the car. I was very hesitant (see my concerns listed above), but my wife said, “Yeah, daddy, why don’t you take your son for a ride?” Now what is a REAL man supposed to say to that challenge? “No honey, I am frightened of heights and feel that I might plummet to my death, or worse yet, pee my pants!” So, like any real man, I bought our tickets and got in line for the ride. The operator seemed like a nice enough guy, but his young age didn’t build my confidence. We loaded into our car. I questioned the maximum load the car could carry and the operator just gave me an evil laugh. As the ride started to spin, my fingers grasped the railing so tight that my knuckles were turning white. I was sweating and shivering at the same time. I felt queasy and a little dizzy. That is about the time the power went out and I looked over at my son sitting next to me as he was enjoying a good belly laugh. You see, my three year son has no fear. I, on the other hand, have a healthy dose.

The difference is, I have had a life full of experience and know the risks associated with certain activities. I have had more stitches than I can count and many broken bones and casts. I lived a boy’s life to the fullest and now I am older and wiser. My son, on the other hand, can crash on his bike, cry for a few minutes and get back on it like it never happened. The truth is, as much as I want to keep him safe at all times, there is a balance between our two philosophies. What is a life without risk and sometimes pain? How do we learn if we never push ourselves and find out where our limits are? How do you experience the highs that come with adventure, if you don’t run the risk of the lows that can accompany those adventures?

At the same time, there is a difference between a measured risk and complete insanity! My life experience can protect my children from unnecessary risks (like when he tried to jump off the back of the couch, over the dog, and onto our hardwood floors), but sometimes they need to experience them firsthand. My wife and I may argue about exactly where a traveling carnival Ferris wheel with no power rates on this scale . . . I vote for complete insanity. But we both agree that part of a child’s growth is in adventure. So next year, you’ll probably see me getting on that old, broken down Ferris wheel again - just pray that we don’t lose the power again. For more information about how you and your children can keep a balance between risk and safety, contact us at mryerson@unitedwaybc.com or 472-9876.