Leaf Peeping with Littles
About a month ago, my sister-in-law called me to ask if I could watch her two girls (my nieces, ages 10 and 6) the last weekend in September. Usually, I have a pretty strong personal protocol in situations like these. I don't agree to anything on the phone, instead I say I'll check my calendar and get back in touch within a few hours. It's not an avoidant thing, it's truly just because I want to take the time to really think through whether I want to do the favor. I don't want resentment building toward people I love, so I try to make sure I only say yes to things I actually want to do.
For whatever reason though, I forgot my own rule and ended up agreeing on the spot. Almost immediately I regretted my decision. Don't get me wrong, I adore my nieces, but it's been a crazy summer, and I really didn't want to spend one of my precious weekends off, during prime fall hiking season no less, with people who need constant care and attention.
On top of being clearer in my boundaries over the last few years, I've also made a commitment to follow through on what I say I'll do (extreme circumstances aside) so I decided to chalk this whole thing up to a lesson learned, and took my nieces for the weekend.
Lucky for me, my in-laws also have a cabin near Summit County, so I asked them if I could take the kids there for the weekend, and also invite a few of my girlfriends. I figured we could all have a low key weekend, and coerce the girls into some short-Ish hikes to take in Colorado's fall colors.
Saturday morning we packed our pb&j's and made the 10 minute drive to the closest trailhead. The trail we chose was 7.4 miles according to AllTrails, and the reviews raved about the changing aspen trees. I figured I'd get the girls to go as far as I could, and turn around if they really started melting down.
My 10-year-old niece did great. I think she was reveling in being "one of the girls" and held her own both physically and conversationally.
The 6-year-old, however, was a different story. She made it through the first mile without much complaint, but after that, her mood took a turn. We stopped for a snack break, and her morale seemed to improve, but only temporarily.
Each time she started to protest, I'd turn her attention to something else. "Let's see if we can name an animal that starts with every letter of the alphabet." or "What can you catch, but not throw?" (spoiler: a cold) I was basically playing the role of her pre-frontal cortex. The "higher self" part of each of us that has the power to redirect attention, reframe experiences and delay gratification. If we took too long between games, her brain would revert back to the negative cycle. First the lip quiver, then the tears welling up in her eyes, punctuated by "I want to go HOME!" The longer she sat in that space, the harder it was to pull her out and shift her focus, so for the three and a half miles each direction, we played games, asked trivia and sang camp songs. It certainly wasn't a typical day hike with my girlfriends, but we make it to the lake, and got our fill of the glowing gold of changing aspen leaves. Hiking with my little niece on Saturday was such an interesting (and exhausting) exercise in managing a brain that's only focused on comfort, familiarity and instant gratification. Usually, the only temper tantrum brain I have to manage is my own, but doing it for someone else allowed me to observe the process in a whole new way. I realized that whether it was my own brain melting down, or someone else's, the approach isn't all that different. Step 1: Notice that something's happening. Maybe it's a lip quiver or a pout, or the pace has dramatically slowed down. Frustration or doubt might be starting to bubble up, and complaints are starting to be vocalized. Step 2: Acknowledge without judgement. It makes sense that you feel this way, this is a tough hike! Of course you want to go home. Step 3: Reassure and lead. I promise you’re safe. We have plenty of snacks and water, and we can take lots of breaks, we’re in no hurry. But we aren’t turning around right now, so how can I help you get through this?Step 4: Reframe and Redirect. I wonder how much of this feels bad because of what you’re focusing on right now? Let’s try focusing on something else (camp songs, riddles, trivia) for a little while, and see what happens. The process I took my niece through was the exact same one I try to take myself through when my toddler brain is throwing a fit. Notice we’re not shutting down feelings, punishing or making anyone feel bad about themselves. And the redirecting isn’t about distracting or ignoring. In fact at one point, I took her through a mindfulness practice, asking her to describe everything she could taste smell, touch, see and hear in the forest.
Redirecting is about recognizing the discomfort, validating it, and then gently guiding attention to something more constructive. This shift isn't about ignoring the problem, but about helping the mind find a way through it, allowing space for a new perspective to emerge.
In the end, we made it to the lake and back, peeped all the leaves, and the day turned out to be a success. The girls were proud of what they accomplished—I overheard them telling their parents about their EIGHT MILE HIKE!
In life, just like on the trail, managing your mind is key to managing your experience. When we acknowledge where we are without judgment, reassure ourselves that we’re safe, and refocus our attention on something more empowering, we open up the space to keep going, even when things get hard.
Eaglesmere Lakes Trail 7.4 miles
1833' elevation gain
Hiked on 9/28/2024 and the aspen leaves were at their peak! If you're looking for a trail to leaf peep in Colorado, put this one on your list.
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