Just...a...little...nudge

If you have not yet read, or inferred, I have 2 kids. An 8 year old girl and 3 year old girl. Both amazingly, completely different. My eldest is kind of timid when it comes to trying new things. And by timid I mean, I get to be the mean looking momma bird that is shoving the baby bird out of the nest, just so she can realize she has working wings that will make her soar.

Last spring we took her for swim lessons. And as I watched her I had a flashback to my grandma doing the doggie paddle, not getting a droplet of water on her make-up or hair. She wouldn't even get her face wet for the first lesson, and by the end she had much improved, but was still not really swimming. So when summer came and we were at her aunties pool, she still had floaties. And she would not jump in. She was too afraid. So my nephew who's 5 and may be mistaken as a fish by strangers made fun of her. I thought about chastising him, but then realized, she was being a wimp. A 7 year old should be able to jump in a pool wearing floaties, heck a 7 year old should be able to do it without them. So I risked looking like a horrendous mother and said "He's right, you're 7, kids will make fun of you. Better buck up and learn to do it." So my darling girl stalled, and stalled, and whined, and finally I said "Jump or I'll throw you in."

(Now back the judgy truck up for a second, and let me explain. She can jump in, she had done it before, and I knew all she needed was the reminder that it was a fun thing, not a scary thing to get over it and play like a kid.)

So finally she cried. And I let her cry, and went to go throw her in. And she jumped. Angrily she jumped. She hated me. But she loved jumping in, and by the end of the summer she was sans floaties swimming. I knew she could do it. She just needed to get past her fear and enjoy the fun.

So this year I decided the same had to be done with the bike, cause training wheels on an 8 year old isn't really cute. (Now I know, if I had simply trained her younger this may not have been an issue, but I tried for years to nurture the bravery into her to no avail. So now I am using the push her to try method). So we took off her training wheels, took her to an empty school parking lot and let her loose. She did fantastic, and I started thinking, "What was I so worried about?" Well, the next day school was back in session so the parking lot was hopping, so we rode her bike on the sidewalk, which has less room for swerving, and errors, and she fell (onto grass softly, might I add) and she got frustrated and cried. But I made her keep going, because I knew if she gave up, that she'd never get back on that bike. Well after 10 minutes of crying, I let her stop and come in, and after she had calmed down I said "You know I love you the same, whether you ride a bike well or you fall, it doesn't matter, I still love you." And she replied, in dramatic fashion "No you don't! You forced me to do it like a slave!" I managed to turn my head and stifle the giggles, no small feat I tell you.

Well, flash forward about 2 months and she rides her bike happily like a champ. She is such a smart cookie, and she over thinks things, and gets herself all worked up before she even tries, so sometimes she needs a little push. And if I let her give up, she will. If I make her push through all the "What-ifs?" she does great...well...most of the time...


Yesterday we got to Brian's softball game early so the kids and I played at the park to kill some time before cheering him on, to victory might I add. She got up to the monkey bars and hung from the first one, and then quickly got her feet back on the platform. Then she asked me to hold her while she did it. Seriously? a 2nd grader needing a mom to carry her across the monkey bars, nope!! She can do it, I have seen her on the monkey bars before, but she was once again letting fear control her actions. Our conversation went like this:
Me: "No, sweetie, you can do it. Just get on and move one hand at a time, you'll be fine."
Her:"No I can't"
Me:"What's the worst thing that will happen?"
Her:"I'll fall"
Me:"Okay, if you fall, you'll fall 2 feet and land on your feet. You jump off higher stuff than this. You'll be fine. Go"
Her:"No"
(Now I am seeing that same face that wouldn't jump off the side of the pool, or ride her bike and I know it's time to be firm)
Me: "I want you to try. Hang there and try to move one of your hands, then you can be done."
Then she proceed to hang for 1/2 second then scramble back to get her feet on the platform, probably 15 times.
Her:"I can't do it!"
me: "Yes you can and we are not leaving until you try"
Her:"No, I can't do it"
So we go back and forth like this for a few minutes, and men are walking by heading to softball probably thinking I am the meanest mother EVER. And to be honest I felt like it, but I know this girl of mine, and sometimes she needs a shove.

So next I pull a dirty trick, because I refuse to have this argument for any longer. I have her come over to me, I hold her by the legs, have her grab the bar in the middle, and I let go and walk away.

Now remember her feet are literally 2 feet from the ground. I didn't leave her hanging off a building, or something, and the ground is that cushy foamy stuff.

Well, she was so determined NOT to do it that she moves her hand and falls instantly to the ground, and didn't land on her feet.

Oops. I didn't want her to eat it, I just wanted her to try. I still stand by my method, but she was tired from all that silly defiant hanging and crying. If she had tried any of the original 15 times she pretended to try she would have been fine. Or if I had pulled that stunt in the beginning, she would have had the strength.

So I apologized that she fell, feeling pretty bad about it (she was no worse off, no bumps, no cuts, nothing). We had a long talk about it, we're all good. I just wish she would have at least made it across a few bars, because then the fear would have lost, and I'm afraid this time fear got the best of her.

So one day soon, I will be mean mom again, and make her try the monkey bars again. I see her watch children fly across them with this "wooooow" look on her face and I want her to feel that, so badly. And I am willing to seem mean to do it.