Last month, my little guy started ice skating lessons. Something ordinary that turned out to be extraordinary.
He has been asking to go ice skating for awhile, and because my husband and I have never skated before and not really wanting to start at this point in our lives, we haven’t gone. I found out that I could take him for beginners classes someplace locally and because we live in Cleveland and it would be a source of exercise for him in the winter, I signed him up. I warned him ahead of time that it would be hard, that it might not come easily for him and off we went to his first class.
You guys, it was awful.
He must have fallen a hundred times. He was defeated and looked up to me with the most pitiful look in his eyes. He wanted to cry. He wanted to quit. I could see it all over his face. I wanted to run in, tell him it was a horrible idea and carry him out of there, but instead I gave him a little smile and a nod that he was going to be okay. He picked himself up and he tried again. And again. And again.
By the end of the class, he was able to scoot across the ice three times without falling and the look of pride on his face is something I will never forget.
When we left, he gave me a big hug and then cried all the way to the car. Needing that release, he then told me he wanted to go back next week. I don’t know that I have ever been so proud as I was in that moment.
The point to this story is sometimes, you need to let your kids struggle. They need to fail. They need to be pushed to do things that are uncomfortable, so they can overcome their fears. If I had rescued him, he would have quit and never would have had that sense of accomplishment. It’s so easy as parents to push our kids to do more of what they’re good at because we want them to be successful, but sometimes, we need to push them to do something uncomfortable.
Originally posted on Goodbye Bread and Cheese.