In early February Benjamin slipped on the ice in front of our house. He was furious and took a swing at me as I picked him up. I have no idea how he treated the bus driver once he got on. When he got to school he told the teacher who sent him to the nurse who assessed him and decided he was fine. That afternoon I was out with a bucket of salt. 

He was anxious as we walked out the next day, and I held on tightly. The bus driver even left his seat to assist Ben the last few feet, which was chivalrous.

Each day I tried chipping at the ice, and salting, but there were still stubborn patches. 

Then I took a different approach. I escorted Ben out the back door and down the road which was completely clear due to the late night efforts of heroic truck drivers. We met the bus without fear or falling, and his day began well. 

Now the snow has submitted to the sunshine of early spring, and the path is clear again. Today will be the first day in a month that I steer Ben out the front door to school.

Sometimes I keep trying a path that makes me slip. Bedtime with little kids was an Achilles heel and I was not smart enough to find a routine that did not involve increased decibels. Trying to get John to submit expenses for his job caught me unprepared over and over, and we both growled. 

Then one day I took the long way around. Rather than nagging him to do it, I started to collect receipts and submitted them myself. No more arguments. More time for laughing. 

Sometimes the long route is actually shorter.