I\'m Summer, a mouthy, sarcastic bitch. I\'m passionate about natural birth, long term breastfeeding, and living naturally. I curse too much, love tattoos, and will some day be crushed to death by my book collection. I homeschool, dream of gardening, and swing to the left. 
Success And Failure
I’ve spent much of this week helping Evan learn to ride his bike without training wheels. It’s been a frustrating time for me. He can do it, I see him doing, I know he can do it. But just as he gets going he falls down. On purpose.
Again and again and again just as he would get going I would watch him make himself fall down. Half way through a turn suddenly jerk the bars the opposite direction. Suddenly slam on the breaks as he’s going down the road. Even just throwing himself and the bike down then trying to act like he lost his balance. Again and again I had to stop, breath deep, and talk him back up as he swore he didn’t know how do simple things like push the peddles. In my head I was screaming “Why? Why do you make yourself fall down when you’re so close to getting it?”
Then I got it. Sometimes it’s scarier to succeed than it is to fail.
Oh man, I’ve been there myself more than a few times. I remember in 4th grade the school I was going to started a program for students who were above average. Every student had to take part in a test to see if they could be in the program or not, and I hated it. I remember sitting there, purposely marking the wrong answers over and over again, trying my hardest to fail. Because succeeding was more frightening to me.
I can definitely see Evan reflecting myself. How many times in the middle of starting a new project have I slammed on the brakes and fell down? How often do I claim I don’t know how to peddle my own bike? When I notice I’ve got my balance I suddenly wobble and fall over.
Damn it, sometimes it feels safer to fail. Failure is predictable, it’s simple, it doesn’t require much work. But to succeed you have to try, work at it, and always wonder if you can do it bigger and better next time. If you ride without training wheels today tomorrow you might have to jump the ramps with the big kids. It’s easier to just keep falling down, to never get to that point.
Every time Evan fell down and wanted to quit I wouldn’t let him. I’d give him a hug then put him back up on that bike. Through scraped knees, a busted lip, and swearing that he would never be able to do it Evan slowly learned how to ride the bike. There was a lot of stopping, taking deep breaths, and saying over and over again that I knew he could do it. I’ve seen when he gets into the failure funk enough to know that if I let him give up he’ll never get back on. If I don’t push him back onto that bike right away he’ll spend the next year whining about wanting to ride the bike and refusing to even get it out of the garage.
When I failed the test horribly I thought it was done. I had “proven” that I wasn’t anything special. After school my teacher called me aside to talk to me about my test score. She knew I could do better, she knew I was capable of succeeding, and she wasn’t going to let me stay down. She arranged for me to retake the test (the benefit of going to a very tiny school) and sat with me the whole time. I wanted to just fail, to stay where I was. The second time I took it I scored high enough to make it into the gifted program. The next few years I got to go on special field trips and take special classes with the other kids who passed.
Now as an adult I don’t have someone to stand over me, brush me off and make me get back up on the bike. I have to be my own motivator, make myself keep going even when I want to slam on the brakes. Even though succeeding is scary, I can’t let failure be an option.
Update: Yes I realize Evan isn’t wearing a helmet. A recent storm knocked down a large tree branch, which fell across the bikes and helmets. Luckily the bikes were fine, unfortunately the helmet was cracked down the middle. Wednesday is our shopping day, and that’s when we’ll hit the sports store and try to get a new one that fits. Chill out.
I know what you mean! There have been times in my life when the thought of trying and failing is scarier than the thought of failing on purpose. If I fail on purpose, at least I can say, “I meant to do that,” and no one will ever know the truth. This is NOT a trait I would like to pass on to my kids, and I commend you in your effort to not let him give up so easily.
Oh man!! Gosh is that ever the truth. It’s so scary to succeed…but failure is definitly not an option. Go Evan go!!
Helmet- please, good habits start early. Although it is none of my business.
Where is his helmet??? What is wrong with you? You think you are all super mom preaching about how everyone should breast feed and co sleep and blahblahblah…but you ignore the most basic and dangerous safety hazards? Breastfeeding isn’t gonna help shit when your kid falls and splits his head open.