Years ago when Rachel was still a toddler, I tried to impress upon her the idea that quitting is a bad thing. She was trying, as I recall, to walk on a thin piece of metal a foot or so off the ground, a kind of balance beam that was part of a play structure, and was scared she wouldn't make it. I urged her to keep trying. "Don't QUIT!" I said sternly. "There are no quitters in this family! This is a no-quit family!"
(At the time I was probably thinking about my departure from The Oregonian, which I don't need to recount here).
She has alluded to our "no-quit" family once or twice since then, but not often. But today, as she was doing a difficult maneuver on the play structure at McKinley and I tried to help her, she said again: "No! I'm not going to quit! This is a no-quitter family!" (She ended up doing the maneuver correctly with a little help from Mommy).
She said the same thing again as she tried to climb a tree that was too small and clearly not meant to be climbed. I gently explained to her that sometimes it just isn't a good idea to do something and that if you decide not to do it, that isn't quitting.
She didn't seem convinced, alas. We later found a more suitable tree for her to climb, and when she tried to maneuver around the branches she actually got scared (she was wearing some sequined boots Drew got her and they were hard to fit between the branches), so she let me lift her down.
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