"I'm just not good at it."

Originally written 1/13/16

I know I horrified some parents today.

Alex and I were running errands in Grapevine and since I picked him up early from school before they got to play outside on this beautiful day, I took him to a nearby park. Alex is cautious by nature. While I watched kids run and chase each other back, forth, up, and down, I watched Alex carefully navigate his way through various playground apparatuses. 

It took him what seemed like forever to make it up to the tallest slide (complete with hyperventilation breathing...I heard it from the ground), but once he made it down, he went over and over again, proud that he mastered a skill.

The park has a zip line. You sit on this round disk with a pole through the middle, hold on and ride down the line. It makes this big banging sound as it slams into the end post, the rider flying past the post with continued forward momentum. Then it swings the rider back the other way and they travel back toward the starting point. 

I had no expectation that Alex would want to do this. He kept eyeing it though and after the five minute warning to leave, I asked him what he wanted his last activity to be before we left.

He pointed at the zip line. My stomach dropped a little because I knew he probably wouldn't be able to do it based on things I've observed him do in his current life. I'm always up to be surprised though...

I said, "Okay, let's do it."

He mounted up and I told him to hold on tight. I let go. (This is important as some parents give their kid a huge push to start. I simply and gently let go). With his terribly poor core strength, he immediately couldn't make himself sit up straight on the seat and was leaning back at an angle as he picked up speed, which I could tell scared him. 

I almost couldn't watch as he approached the end post because I knew he would fall off when he heard the metal crash into the post (he hates loud noises) and was thrust forward (terrible body control). Sure enough as I started humming Wrecking Ball, he hit the post and was propelled forward. He just let go and flew off. It wasn't a far fall and the playground surface was really soft and spongy. He landed, looked around at all the kids staring at him and began crying out of disappointment.

I helped him up and comforted him. I was about to suggest we go when he said, "I can't do it; I'm just not good at it."

The way he said it with such sadness and defeat triggered something in me. 

As I hugged him and he settled down, I was thinking that he had to try again. Maybe it was that damn mindset book that has impacted me more than I want to admit. Maybe it has been observing him as he struggles to learn to write and on especially frustrating days hearing him say similar things about just not being good at the letter R or the number 5.

Whatever it was, I was scared too because it was yet another moment where I was unprepared to parent...where I didn't know the right thing to do but felt like any other parent at the park would have known what to do immediately and done it perfectly. 

I did not want him to give up so defeated after only one try, believing that he just wasn't good. This cannot be the inner voice that gets stronger as he continually enters new and challenging phases of life. We want him to learn to embrace a challenge rather than avoid one. But was this really the time to jump on that train? I figured that he would probably seek therapy in the future for a list of things so why not add one more.

"I think you should give it another try," I said as I held him. He pulled back and looked at me, shocked and betrayed. He immediately welled up and began to cry again saying "I don't want to, I don't want to..." over and over again. We sat on the wall and watched at least 6 other kids go, not one of them falling...not even the 2 year old. He stopped crying, but kept insisting that he just could not do it. 

Here's kind of an abbreviated version of our conversation:

*Music that plays in the background in the last 7 minutes of a Full House episode where the lesson is learned and everyone's EQ rises 10 points. 

Me: What do you think happened to make you fall the first time?

Alex: I can't know. I'm just not good at it. I have butter fingers. (*audience laugh track)

Me: Well, sure you're not good at it, yet. You only tried once. Why did you let go? Butter fingers is when you drop something you try to catch and it's not a permanent condition.

Alex: I not like loud noise

Me: Well now you know it's coming so you'll be ready next time. You can't just give up because you fell one time. Did it hurt to fall?

Alex: No

Me: Right. Because the playground surface is like a big, mushy mat. So try again. You've already fallen once. If you fall again, you know it won't hurt. 

Alex: Okay

*Big hug (audience "awwwww" and clap)

I'd love to tell you that he made it the second time, but he fell again. Parents who had been watching us were now watching with higher alert. I could feel their silent "tiger mom" accusations and I thought, well joke's on you people because I'm as White as you are and just as crazy.

As I helped him up, I said, "Way to be brave and try again. Let's round it out with three tries and then we'll go home."

He seemed okay with this since there was an end in sight.

The school age girls in line let him cut and one ran down to the end post saying she was going to spot him. They cheered him on.

He let go again...which admittedly, I was like really? But I hid all of that like a pro. At least he let go later than the previous two times.

I said, "That was almost it! Want to try one more time?"

He said yes, but only because he knew I wanted him to. 

I walked him a little further down the ramp this time before letting go and followed him down. This time he did make it. 

Everyone cheered and he was all smiley and proud of himself. 

On the car ride home we had another talk about not giving up on things just because we're not good at them the first time we try. I'm pretty sure it was wasted words because when I started asking him questions it was clear that he had no idea what I was talking about, but at least the conversations are starting. 

I know I need to "chill" as my students have let me know many times. 

It's all a work in progress.

I'm now going to search random blogs until I find a post about this crazy Asian woman who watched her son fly off a zip line over and over again.