It’s Not Always Easy, But It’s Always Worth It

My nanny makes me and my brothers go outside almost every day. It doesn’t matter if it’s pouring rain or if there’s a blizzard she’s taking us out. She even got my mom and dad to buy us rain pants that we can wear year round, so mud puddles or slush won’t keep us inside.

On some days I put up a huge stink when she tells us it’s time to go out. I refuse to put my snow pants on, distract my brothers from getting dressed by trying to wrestle with them, or I scream that nature is boring and I don’t want to go. Sometimes this works, and my nanny lets us stay in, but mom and dad say that I am not allowed to do that on Mondays when I don’t have school.

It isn’t that I don’t like being outside, but the grown-ups forget that it’s hard. When I go to school, the teachers tell me what to do. They even tell me when and how to do what they want me to do. At school, if I have a problem with a friend, I just tell the teachers and they fix it for me. I don’t have to think much when I’m there. I just have to do. 

When I am outside with my nanny, she makes me come up with my own games to play. If I’m having a problem with my brothers, I can’t just shout at them. She wants me to talk to them and we have to do a lot of compromises and taking turns. It’s harder when I have to make my own decisions, use my own imagination, and solve my own problems outside than it is to just do what the teachers say to do at school. 

Today is Monday so that means my nanny is taking us into the woods for the whole morning. I didn’t complain, but I did get a little distracted when it was time to put my snow pants on, and I had a bit of trouble listening when my nanny told me to get in the van.

“Where are we going?” I asked, as the van pulled onto the highway.

“To the nature center,” my nanny replied 

“Who else is going to be there?” I wondered, hoping that friends would be joining us.

“I think it’s just us today,” my nanny told me.

“Why isn’t anyone else coming?” I wanted to know.

“There was a lot of freezing rain overnight, and our friends aren’t prepared to be outside after that,” my nanny said.

I wish my nanny was like all her friends who had enough sense to stay inside today.

“When will we be there?” I asked. 

“We’re here. We made it,” my nanny said, as she pulled into the parking lot. 

“I want to get out first,” I said. 

There was no reply. My nanny parked the van and got out. She walked to the other side of the vehicle and open the door. 

“Me first! I’m going to be first! Me!” I shouted.

“Lucy. I’m going to let you get out first. Please don’t shout at me,” my nanny sighed.

I wasn’t trying to be rude, but I wanted to make sure she wasn’t going to let the boys out first. They are 2 years old, so it takes a long time to get them ready, and I don’t like being trapped in my seat when I’m waiting.

My nanny unbuckled the straps on my car seat and I climbed out. I put my jacket and hat on, then held my hands out for my mittens. 

“Help, please,” I said.

I shoved my mittens in my nanny’s face and wiggled them around. She helped get them over my hands, and then she got my brothers dressed.

“Did you bring the sleds today?” I asked.

“I did bring the sleds. I brought some shovels, too,” my nanny answered.

“Will you pull us in the sleds? I’m tired. My legs are soooo tired,” I said.

“Oh, goodness. We haven’t even started playing yet, and your legs are already that tired? Yes, you guys can ride in the sleds,” my nanny agreed.

I climbed in one sled, and my brothers crawled into the other. They are smaller than me, so it’s easier for them to fit in together. My nanny pulled us across the parking lot, holding the string from one sled in each hand.

The plastic sleds made a horrible scraping sound when she dragged them across the ice covered pavement. It was so loud that she couldn’t hear me if I tried to talk. I pushed my hat down over my ears to block out the noise. When we finally came to the trail that would take us into the woods, I rolled my body out of the sled. 

“I want to walk now,” I explained, when my nanny turned around to see what was going on.

Snow crunched beneath my boots with each step I took. The sky was gray, with no hint of sunshine to be found.  I could hear a bunch of blue jays screaming at one another from somewhere in the distance .

“Can I run ahead?” I asked.

“Sure, but stop and wait at the play area,” my nanny said.

I took off running, which wasn’t easy on the slippery trail. I stopped when I reached the play area. I scanned all of the logs, and the forts made of branches with my eagle eyes.

This play area isn’t like a regular playground. There are no swings or slides, just logs, stumps, branches to build forts with, and a mud kitchen. It’s a fun place to explore, when there are other kids to play with. 

“I don’t want it to be just us,” I told my nanny, once she’d caught up with me.

“I know, but today it’s just us. We can make the best of it,” she insisted, patting my shoulder.

I thought about what she had said, as I wandered around the play area. I stopped in front of a fort, trying to decide if I could climb on it. I stepped up on one of the outer branches, and then carefully put 1 foot on a different branch. The second branch shifted, and I was afraid I was going to fall.

“I don’t think I should climb on this. It’s not stable. I don’t know how to get down,” I said.

“What if you got down the same way you got up?” my nanny suggested.

I didn’t listen to her. I jumped down a different way. I wandered around the play area again. Most of my favorite climbing spots were coated in ice. I found a big, twisty branch and tried to pick it up. It was heavy, too heavy for me to carry on my own.

“Help! I need teamwork!” I cried.

One of my brothers ran to assist me in carrying the branch, but he let go of it after a few seconds

“It’s too heavy,” he said.

I dropped my end of the branch and shuffled over to my nanny.

“I feel bored,” I told her.

“Feeling bored is actually a good thing, because that’s when you come up with ideas,” my nanny said.

“I don’t know any ideas. Maybe go for a walk? Can we go for a walk?” I asked.

“Sure. Let’s go for a walk,” my nanny agreed.

Alright, boys, get in your sled,” I called to my brothers.

They hopped in their sled, and I jumped into mine. My nanny pulled all of us down the trail.

“I think I want to get out,” one of my brothers said, as we approached a hill.

“Me, too,” his twin decided.

My nanny stopped and the boys rolled out of their sled. I stepped out of mine.

“Can I choose which way we go?” I asked.

“Sure. We’ll follow you,” my nanny said.

I led everyone up a hill, around a corner, and down a slope. My brothers walked slowly, and had to stare at everything they passed. I like to be fast, so I spent a lot of time waiting for them to catch up.

When I noticed a huge log along the side of the trail, I knew I needed to climb on it. I stopped walking, and begged my nanny to let us play.

“Of course you guys can play on the log,” she said.

Because this log was under thicker tree cover, it wasn’t coated with as much ice as the ones in the play area. I crawled up on the log, and slowly raised myself to a standing position. I held my arms out, and after testing to see if it was slippery under my feet, I began to balance from one side of the log to the other. When I reached the end, I leaped into the air. I landed with a soft thud in the deep snow below. I immediately popped back up onto the end of the log. With all my might, I jumped again, holding my breath until I felt my body crash into the cushiony powder beneath. I did this over and over again.

“I feel like I’m flying,” I giggled.

I couldn’t stop jumping. I didn’t want to stop jumping, and I didn’t have to. When I am outside, my body can move in all the ways it needs to, as much as it needs to. I feel free, strong, brave, and smart. I continue to hop off the log until it’s time to go home for lunch. I am happy, and my heart is full. It isn’t always easy to get outside, but maybe my nanny is right. It’s always worth it.