Lessons in Failure
This morning I gave the obligatory "time to go" warning to a Lego building boy. I asked him if he had everything he needed for school and he assured me he did as he walked out the door to put on his shoes. "Did you get your lunchbox and your snack?" "Yep!" I walk outside next to him and poke into the small front pocket of his backpack that is open just further than half way. I see no snack. As he's adjusting his sock I repeat, "did you grab your lunchbox and your snack?" "Yep!" Humm, I look info the big pocket of his backpack. "Oh I see, your snack is in with your lunchbox. Here I'll put it in the small front pocket for you so it's easier to grab at school." I remove the granola bar and zip it securely in the small front pouch. Then I zip up the big pouch for good measure. He's finishes putting on his shoes, grabs his backpack and jumps in the car. Seems like a pretty typical exchange, but I have a pit in my stomach.
Why couldn't I have just trusted him? Why didn't I just leave the snack in the big open compartment of his backpack? Better yet, why did I even look? Why did I feel the need to intervene?
And it't not like this is the first time. Just last Friday he had unfinished homework sitting on the kitchen table at 7:30, we leave at 7:40. Now, he is in change of his own homework and is allowed to do it whenever he wants as long as it is finished to be turned in each Friday. I don't nag, but I do offer a few reminders during the week and at 7:30 as I was walking by the playroom I reminded him that he saved a page for this morning and he had 10 minutes until we left. He hardly acknowledged me as I walked to my bedroom to finish getting ready. Ten minutes later he was in the exact same spot in the playroom. "Time to go baby," I said as I walked past him. He jumped up enthusiastically and ran over to his homework that looked exactly as it had ten minutes earlier. I felt my own anxiety warming up inside. He didn't finish, I think to myself! I notice he forgot his name on the front page and ask him to write it. He's irritated at me but scribbles his name and begins to stuff his homework packet into his folder. As he is doing so I can see the corner of the page he was supposed to complete and I doesn't look done. Now my own anxiety is bubbling up. I can't stop myself. "Did you come in and finish that last page?" "Yes, I did it just now!" "Oh, okay. I just couldn't see it." I open the packet. "Oh, you wrote your spelling words on the same line." You see he is supposed to write his spelling words twice. Each of ten lines had two separate spaces for such. He wrote each word twice but on the same line. This is not a big deal but he LOST IT! He started yelling that he'd messed up and would have to do it all over again. He punched the table and grabbed an eraser. He gripped his backpack so tight his knuckles were white. "It's okay!" I reassured him. It isn't a big mistake. Your teacher probably won't even notice or care. You did what was asked of you!" Nothing helped. Finally he shoved the homework packet into his folder and that into his backpack and stormed toward the garage. "You have no socks on!" I called after him. He dropped his backpack and ran, red faced to his room kicking anything that was in his way to get socks. "WORST DAY EVER!" He screamed as a small toy flew down hall at the mercy of his kick.
Why couldn't I have just trusted him? Why did I need to check his work? Why did I feel the need to intervene? Why did I point out he had no socks?
The answer to all the above is this. A fear of failure. Mine, not his.
Of course we as parents hate to see our kids fail. It hurts us probably more than it hurts them to see the look of disappointment on their faces or to hear that they have failed at something, but I think we all know deep down that failure is and essential part of developing into functioning adults. In each of these scenarios he did not fail to remember anything yet I completely failed in trusting him. And what is the worst case scenario if he had failed? No homework would mean his teacher would probably show some disappointment and ask him to bring it in Monday. No snack would mean he would perhaps be extra hungry at lunch. No socks would mean he would notice 10 seconds later and have to run and get them on his own accord.
Each of these things would have been an amazing life lesson for him, if I had allowed it. He, like all of us, doesn't like to make mistakes. He would feel disappointment from his teacher which is a great future motivator to remember homework. He would feel a sense of hunger which is a great natural motivator to remember food. He would feel no socks which would either mean uncomfortable shoes all day if he decided to forgo them or it would put him 30 seconds behind schedule by having to run and get them. The beauty of all of these consequences is that they are completely natural and made by him. The problem with me reminding him is that I'm denying him the opportunity to learn these vital life lessons for himself!
Even worse, when we/I over parent our children they get to blame US for their missteps! YOU forgot to remind me to do my homework, grab my socks, pack my snack, wash my jersey and the list goes on. Because when we take on our children's responsibilities as our own, guess what, they become just that! One more thing for us to do. If I'm being 100% honest, which I always try to be on here, I actually don't mind doing pretty much everything for my kids. Picking up toys, clearing dishes, wiping up spills, packing bags, remembering 75403 things and...and...and. The problem is that me doing everything for them is actually all for ME!
Let me explain. If I do all the cleaning and all the remembering and all the planning then guess what, it all gets done! And to my high standard as well. I am really good at making beds and wiping up spills and hanging up bath towels and packing snacks, I remember daily tasks like a fucking boss! My brain is like a calendar, a grocery list and a life journal for each of my kids (and husband) at all times. I'm pretty damn good at running this place, and if I continue to run it by myself then I am in control. Ahhh, I like control. Don't you!? Gosh it feels good to be in control. Problem is, this is NOT how children learn to take care of themselves. Micromanaging kids leaves us with kids who don't know how to problem solve. When we think for our children, clean for our children and do for them what they can do for themselves we are sending them a message that we don't trust them. And if we don't trust them how can they learn to trust themselves? This can lead to a learned helplessness which can effect school, social relationships and future work relationships as well.
Sure, avoiding failures for my children feels really good for me. I like that I can save them from pain and disappointments with the wave of my magic mom wand. I can run their lives like tidy little packages all neat and orderly. I can swoop in and save the day and that makes my mom heart feel really good, but it doesn't teach the babies a darn thing! And while I do like to be a hero, I don't want to save my kids now at the expense of their future selves. I don't want to be the constant nag when my kids are teenagers. I don't want to have to drop off forgotten items over and over or do laundry for my college kids. I'm trying to look into the future and imagine the kind of adults I want to put out into this world rather than the neat and tidy house or the feel goods of saving my kids that I want right now.
So as hard as it is for me walk past a sloppy, but made bed or watch maple syrup be more massaged into the counter than wiped off of it, I am learning to let go. I'm learning to bite my tongue and let my children do more things for themselves, or forget to do things for themselves and experience the outcome. I'm also being blown away by what they are capable of if I just give them a chance!
Of course I will still occasionally do things they are long since capable of for them if they ask me to. There are days that Arlowe just can NOT brush her teeth or carry that SUPER HEAVY plate to the counter. There are days Caches wakes up sleepy eyed asking if I'll help with his morning chores which basically means will I do all of them including dressing him haha! And I will! I think it's sweet and important to help our kids with things they already know how to do when they are having a hard day or are tired or just plain over it. Heck, there are days I wish my mom would put on my shoes for me or grab me a glass of water even though I'm sitting 3 feet from a cup and have capable arms and legs. I guess what I'm really trying to do here is make it easier for my kids to leave this litte nest. To teach them with small failures like a forgotten snack that failure isn't the end of the world but an opportunity for growth. That lots of small failures as a child make the bigger ones as an adult easier to shoulder. Isn't that the cruel paradox of parenthood after all. That we spend all this time teaching them and loving them just so they can go. And go they must with a deep knowing that their mama always has their backs, just maybe not their snacks.
Why couldn't I have just trusted him? Why didn't I just leave the snack in the big open compartment of his backpack? Better yet, why did I even look? Why did I feel the need to intervene?
And it't not like this is the first time. Just last Friday he had unfinished homework sitting on the kitchen table at 7:30, we leave at 7:40. Now, he is in change of his own homework and is allowed to do it whenever he wants as long as it is finished to be turned in each Friday. I don't nag, but I do offer a few reminders during the week and at 7:30 as I was walking by the playroom I reminded him that he saved a page for this morning and he had 10 minutes until we left. He hardly acknowledged me as I walked to my bedroom to finish getting ready. Ten minutes later he was in the exact same spot in the playroom. "Time to go baby," I said as I walked past him. He jumped up enthusiastically and ran over to his homework that looked exactly as it had ten minutes earlier. I felt my own anxiety warming up inside. He didn't finish, I think to myself! I notice he forgot his name on the front page and ask him to write it. He's irritated at me but scribbles his name and begins to stuff his homework packet into his folder. As he is doing so I can see the corner of the page he was supposed to complete and I doesn't look done. Now my own anxiety is bubbling up. I can't stop myself. "Did you come in and finish that last page?" "Yes, I did it just now!" "Oh, okay. I just couldn't see it." I open the packet. "Oh, you wrote your spelling words on the same line." You see he is supposed to write his spelling words twice. Each of ten lines had two separate spaces for such. He wrote each word twice but on the same line. This is not a big deal but he LOST IT! He started yelling that he'd messed up and would have to do it all over again. He punched the table and grabbed an eraser. He gripped his backpack so tight his knuckles were white. "It's okay!" I reassured him. It isn't a big mistake. Your teacher probably won't even notice or care. You did what was asked of you!" Nothing helped. Finally he shoved the homework packet into his folder and that into his backpack and stormed toward the garage. "You have no socks on!" I called after him. He dropped his backpack and ran, red faced to his room kicking anything that was in his way to get socks. "WORST DAY EVER!" He screamed as a small toy flew down hall at the mercy of his kick.
Why couldn't I have just trusted him? Why did I need to check his work? Why did I feel the need to intervene? Why did I point out he had no socks?
The answer to all the above is this. A fear of failure. Mine, not his.
Of course we as parents hate to see our kids fail. It hurts us probably more than it hurts them to see the look of disappointment on their faces or to hear that they have failed at something, but I think we all know deep down that failure is and essential part of developing into functioning adults. In each of these scenarios he did not fail to remember anything yet I completely failed in trusting him. And what is the worst case scenario if he had failed? No homework would mean his teacher would probably show some disappointment and ask him to bring it in Monday. No snack would mean he would perhaps be extra hungry at lunch. No socks would mean he would notice 10 seconds later and have to run and get them on his own accord.
Each of these things would have been an amazing life lesson for him, if I had allowed it. He, like all of us, doesn't like to make mistakes. He would feel disappointment from his teacher which is a great future motivator to remember homework. He would feel a sense of hunger which is a great natural motivator to remember food. He would feel no socks which would either mean uncomfortable shoes all day if he decided to forgo them or it would put him 30 seconds behind schedule by having to run and get them. The beauty of all of these consequences is that they are completely natural and made by him. The problem with me reminding him is that I'm denying him the opportunity to learn these vital life lessons for himself!
Even worse, when we/I over parent our children they get to blame US for their missteps! YOU forgot to remind me to do my homework, grab my socks, pack my snack, wash my jersey and the list goes on. Because when we take on our children's responsibilities as our own, guess what, they become just that! One more thing for us to do. If I'm being 100% honest, which I always try to be on here, I actually don't mind doing pretty much everything for my kids. Picking up toys, clearing dishes, wiping up spills, packing bags, remembering 75403 things and...and...and. The problem is that me doing everything for them is actually all for ME!
Let me explain. If I do all the cleaning and all the remembering and all the planning then guess what, it all gets done! And to my high standard as well. I am really good at making beds and wiping up spills and hanging up bath towels and packing snacks, I remember daily tasks like a fucking boss! My brain is like a calendar, a grocery list and a life journal for each of my kids (and husband) at all times. I'm pretty damn good at running this place, and if I continue to run it by myself then I am in control. Ahhh, I like control. Don't you!? Gosh it feels good to be in control. Problem is, this is NOT how children learn to take care of themselves. Micromanaging kids leaves us with kids who don't know how to problem solve. When we think for our children, clean for our children and do for them what they can do for themselves we are sending them a message that we don't trust them. And if we don't trust them how can they learn to trust themselves? This can lead to a learned helplessness which can effect school, social relationships and future work relationships as well.
Sure, avoiding failures for my children feels really good for me. I like that I can save them from pain and disappointments with the wave of my magic mom wand. I can run their lives like tidy little packages all neat and orderly. I can swoop in and save the day and that makes my mom heart feel really good, but it doesn't teach the babies a darn thing! And while I do like to be a hero, I don't want to save my kids now at the expense of their future selves. I don't want to be the constant nag when my kids are teenagers. I don't want to have to drop off forgotten items over and over or do laundry for my college kids. I'm trying to look into the future and imagine the kind of adults I want to put out into this world rather than the neat and tidy house or the feel goods of saving my kids that I want right now.
So as hard as it is for me walk past a sloppy, but made bed or watch maple syrup be more massaged into the counter than wiped off of it, I am learning to let go. I'm learning to bite my tongue and let my children do more things for themselves, or forget to do things for themselves and experience the outcome. I'm also being blown away by what they are capable of if I just give them a chance!
Of course I will still occasionally do things they are long since capable of for them if they ask me to. There are days that Arlowe just can NOT brush her teeth or carry that SUPER HEAVY plate to the counter. There are days Caches wakes up sleepy eyed asking if I'll help with his morning chores which basically means will I do all of them including dressing him haha! And I will! I think it's sweet and important to help our kids with things they already know how to do when they are having a hard day or are tired or just plain over it. Heck, there are days I wish my mom would put on my shoes for me or grab me a glass of water even though I'm sitting 3 feet from a cup and have capable arms and legs. I guess what I'm really trying to do here is make it easier for my kids to leave this litte nest. To teach them with small failures like a forgotten snack that failure isn't the end of the world but an opportunity for growth. That lots of small failures as a child make the bigger ones as an adult easier to shoulder. Isn't that the cruel paradox of parenthood after all. That we spend all this time teaching them and loving them just so they can go. And go they must with a deep knowing that their mama always has their backs, just maybe not their snacks.
Comments
Post a Comment