You know that situation when something is super-funny when it happens? And it is funny when you repeat the story? And still funny if you think about it afterwards? But it actually isn’t that funny, when you really think about it?

We had one of those situations with Cleo a while back. I will honestly never forget the shocking, deep guilt that came with it.

It happened one evening, innocently enough, when Cleo mentioned that there was “only one picture hanging here of me”. We looked at one another, Johan and I, not sure what she was talking about. Because, although we had been thru this before and promised Cleo that we would hang some pictures of her around our home, we hadn’t actually gotten to it. There were zero pictures of her on our walls.

What did she mean?

Sensing our disbelief, she ran to the children’s bathroom and brought back a Nestle tin poster of a child bathing in a bucket (decidedly NOT her!). She said, “Here! This is the only one you guys have!”

Oh boy!

Everyone knows that the last child in a family is the most resilient, the most creative and, above all, the least spoiled. But I had always thought that I treated all three of our children equally, especially in love and attention.

That was, until the night Cleo stomped out that delusion like she was putting out a fire.

So, on the heels of (obviously) printing and framing loads of Cleo-pictures around the apartment, I also decided that some mommy-time was what the doctor ordered.

Perhaps she was feeling a bit left out or passed by? Perhaps I had been focusing more on Lulu and Friso, their “bigger” fifth-grade-issues or their more intensive schedules. I didn’t feel that way. But perhaps Cleo did?

So, while the older two children were off at sleep-away camp last week, Cleo and I legged it on a sneaky, skip-school kind of a day to climb Mt. Takao (高尾山, Takaosan).

Mt. Takao is about 600 metres high and stands within the Tokyo city limits. It is about an hour away from Shibuya Station and super easy to access. The best thing about Takaosan is the proximity to Tokyo. You can decide to go in the morning and be there well before lunch time.

We chose this destination because I wanted a dose of nature and Cleo thought the monkey forest sounded like fun.

We set out with two simple goals, as we trained it out of the city centre. We needed a dose of soba (as Cleo and I share a love for noodles – buckwheat and all!) and a day together to strengthen our glue after the Nestle tin debacle.

Upon arriving in Takaomachi, we wandered from the train station, thru the little village street. Cleo chose the soba shop, we refuelled and were ready to go!

There are many ways to climb Takaosan. You have several hiking routes to choose from, varying in lengths and difficulty. The most popular route is Trail #1. It is paved most of the way and is a nice gentle walk. However, if you go on a weekend or holiday, also expect it to be the most crowded of the six trails. I have read that over 2.5 million people climb the holy mountain each year, so it is better to avoid crowds!

The trail takes about 90 minutes from top to bottom unless you cheat a little bit, like we did, and take a cable car or chair lift.

While this seemed like an innocent enough prospect, it also took years off of my life. The chair lift starts out sweetly enough, just the two of us on a chair lift, surrounded by nature. But, here is the thing….the chair lift has no safety bar (which, coming from Switzerland was super weird!). This didn’t necessarily bother me while the ground was only a few feet away. At times I even had to pick my feet up so they didn’t drag.

However, when the distance between my feet and the earth greatened, so did my fear. Phew, I was glad to get off of that thing!

The benefit of taking the cable car (to defuse my panic-attack situation!) was that it did bring us half way up the trail. And, when we arrived at the top, there was a breath-taking view of Tokyo. You should also be able to see Fuji-san on a clear day from this outlook point.

Just a bit further on, up Trail #1 is the monkey park. This area of the forest is home to about 40 Japanese snow monkeys that preform for their guests a few times per day. Lucky enough, we timed our visit just right. Although the show was in Japanese, the entertainment value was not lost!

After the great entertainment of seeing your mother freaking out on a chair life and watching snow monkeys dance, hiking is not that interested when you are 6 years old. Despite the beautiful and unique Yakuoin Temple and the rows of little shops along the way, I had to bribe Cleo with an ice cream cone to keep her walking towards the summit.

We finally made it to the top around 2pm and after a look around (and it really was that quick at the top - it had gotten cloudy, the views were minimal and someone wasn’t playing ball!) we decided on using Trail #1 to descend. There are many side sites to see like a suspension bridge and a waterfall if you use the other trails, but we kept it easy and walked the same (read: quickest!) back down.

The only thing we did differently on our descent is opt for the cable car instead of the chair lift. But, by the way, the cable car is also not for the weak of heart. It is the steepest in Japan!

When we arrived safe & sound at the bottom, Cleo got her cone at one of the many confectionary shops.

We sat there, Cleo munching and me reflecting.

I was thinking about being a kid and spending time with my mother when I was young. I have happy memories from my childhood. I don’t really remember quantifying the time she spent with me. I remember things like her strawberry jam that I loved and her casseroles that I detested. I remember summers in the garden and making snowmen in the winter. I guess she had pictures of me in the house, but I don’t remember that too well, either.

Here is the thing… Cleo doesn’t miss a beat. She is scrappy and creative and spunky. In my “mother’s-opinion” she is wise beyond her years and deeply sensitive to the world around her.

But here is something that she could never realise…

I have been “present” for more of Cleo’s milestones and her day-to-day ‘stuff’ than I ever was for Lulu and Friso.

If I just consider the logistics of twin newborns versus a single baby, she already wins in the level of my attention and mind-space. If you add to the mix that I was working full time and was a brand-spanking new mother when I had my first babies, the picture becomes sharper.

Cleo definitely gets ‘more’ of me. Just the fact that I knew what the heck I was doing with her was already a positive start.

Even through two business start-ups and pushing one of those companies to grow and grow while she was younger, I feel I was more aware of all of my children’s needs. I was more mindful and hands-on, for sure.

But, hey! If my child measures how much she is loved by how many pictures I have of her, who am I to judge?

This Is What Happens When I Get Mommy Guilt-Trip-y