Once upon a time, before we had children, we went on a trip to Canada. It seemed only proper to go dog sledding while in the frozen North, and though Trent and I were so allergic to the dogs that we had to ride with tears streaming out of our red, puffy, allergy-filled eyes, it was so much fun. We learned a lot about dog sledding on that trip, such as “mush” is what you do, not what you say. And the dogs are trained in some strange language to understand “Gee” and “Haw” instead of “right” and “left”. As we traveled through the woods with two dog-teams, we learned that the lead dog team was kind of slow and distracted. They were already ahead on the narrow trail, no need to hurry. The second dog-team, however, was always trying to get ahead. To them it was a competition, so they hustled. Ahead of us, the guide had to poke and prod his dogs to keep moving, but our team was very aware of the need to keep moving, not wanting to be left behind.
I never imagined I would use this lesson in parenting, but it’s amazing how much like sled dogs children can be. I often find myself behind them as we head out the door or up the aisle. Already in the lead, the kids meander and lolly-gag, not interested in moving ahead and distracted by everything. No amount of “Hike, hike! Walk faster!” from me will motivate them. However, if I can wiggle my way ahead of these wee ones, suddenly they think they may be left behind. They hustle just like that second team of dogs trying to keep up and (for the most part) leaving other distractions behind as long as I keep moving forward. It seems an easy lesson, but it took me a while to get this one and remember to always be the lead dog.
