Skip to main content

a lesson in falling

A few months ago, we ordered our son a piggy bank.
The kind with different sections for saving and spending and donating. We have been trying to teach him about money. And that he doesn’t need every thing he sees advertised on TV. (if I see the pillow pet commercial one more time I just might scream).
And he has been sticking his little coins and dollars in the slots and buying his own ice cream when the truck comes around. And he has been saving up.
For a skateboard.
Really, I have no idea where he got this idea. But he saw one at Academy about a month or so ago and wanted it. Bad.
Finally, he had the 10$ he needed. So we emptied out the piggy and went on our way.
He handed the sweet cashier his 10+ change. While dad waited behind him to spend twice that on a helmet. And I hoped our insurance coverage would be enough for whatever injuries might ensue.
And we got home, strapped on the helmet and tried the thing out. And I do mean we ( but I won’t be posting any of those pictures J )
It wasn’t quite as stable as he thought it would be and he was a little reluctant to get both feet on. But eventually he did. And about 2 seconds later it all came tumbling down.
Knees and wrists on the pavement. There was no blood. But, it looked like it hurt. I tried to assure him that falling was a part of riding a skateboard. And this would be the first of many. And the fists went up towards his eyes and tears started to come.
He eventually made it back on his feet and started to walk back inside, while trying to rip off his helmet.


"Oh no. You did not just spend your life savings on something you are going to fall off of once and give up. Get back on that board, kid."



Not that I want to encourage skateboarding or more skinned knees. But I do not want to encourage quitting.
My kid needs to learn to fall. And most importantly to get back up. To keep trying.
Because life is full of falling. And not everyone learns how to get back up. For some people this comes naturally. My husband likes to call it stubborn.
For others. Like my son. It is something he needs to learn how to do. The falling will come naturally, but the getting back up will take some practice. Even if it means lots of skinned knees and elbows in the process.


Still crying. He even more hesitantly, put one foot back on the board. Pushed a little ways and tried with both feet. This time he stayed on. For a few seconds at least.
And it is doubtful that my son will be the next Tony Hawk. Actually, I hope he isn’t. I’d like to keep his bones in one piece for as long as possible. But I’m proud of any kid who can fall. And get back up.
Especially mine. Even if there are tears. Maybe even especially if there are tears involved.
(and yes, I checked. We have plenty of band aids on hand).



Posted by Picasa

Comments

samskat said…
I love the pictures that you get of your kids! These look like ads for a magazine! (And just wait til he's got the dog pulling him on a skateboard...my brother did that!)
Kate said…
We're working on persistance here too. And thinking before we spend those few precious dollars she has.
The best lesson you can give your child is how to fall and get back up. Especially when the tears are falling.
Hyacynth said…
Oh, that I could be a dilligent in getting back up as your little guy.
And if he did turn into Tony Hawk that might be good ... I bet Tony Hawk doesn't fall all that much and break things anymore. ;)
He is just too cute :)
And better to start the lessons now...
Stacia said…
Flash back, oh, 20 years or so and this is me and roller blades. Hope your little guy gets the hang of it!

PS: Do I see a Red Raider fan in your household??
michelle said…
stacia...me and my husband both graduated from Tech.2000 and 2001. You?
Maybe we know each other in real life!
Margie said…
I really love this post - for the way you parent, for the lessons your son is learning. It's what I want to teach my girls: that it's in the practice, the trying again and again, that we learn how to do. I wish my mother had taught me that. Because I give up. At the first sign of failure.

Popular posts from this blog

Either/Or

Recently I met an old friend for lunch. He was actually my senior high prom date. He wasn’t just my prom date, but had been my friend for a good part of high school. And our group has mostly stayed in touch through the years. But not him. Even though we live in the same big metroplex, I hadn’t seen him in almost 15 years. At prom, He even won some kind of senior superlative, Mr. BHS or something like that. In other words, he was well-liked, nice, funny and smart. And it helped that he drove a Camero. We didn’t break up or have a falling out. He kind of just disappeared. And not just from me, but from everyone. And I had looked for him. At class reunions. On myspace. And eventually, only about a year ago, he finally showed up on facebook. When he did, I suggested we get together for dinner or something. And he responded with a really awkward email. Explaining that he was gay. Warning me. Trying to let me out of my dinner invitation if I wanted. And I already knew this. Possibly I had ev

me too

I used to never question God. It was just part of the way things were. Just like I believed in Santa and the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny. And eventually I grew up and started to wonder. I always believed, But occasionally I started to wonder if he was always good. If he really loved me. Singular me rather than an all inclusive version. That he was paying attention. That my prayers mattered.` And I didn’t know that I should play by the rules. That questioning these outloud things in a Bible study or Sunday School class Will get you bumped to the top of the prayer list. Because I know. But sometimes I wonder. And I didn’t need their scripture memory verses or their books or their prayers. (but I guess prayers never hurt) And I was just hoping for someone else to say “me too”. And, Jason Boyett’s book, O Me of Little Faith Is one great big “me too” And like most books I like he asks a whole lot more questions than he answers. Hard ones. Ones without real answers. Ones that make me wa

imaginary friends

Recently I had a friend disappoint me. I didn’t tell them. And I didn’t write about it when it happened. Instead I seethed a little and got angrier and slightly resentful and finally dumped it on my husband. (who had some great advice that will come later) And. I have hesitated to write this piece because a lot of my real life friends read this. Maybe even the one I’m writing about. Maybe not. Actually I’m not really sure. And to be honest the best pace to work this out would be with them. Just them. And not on line. But. It’s not really about them. It’s more about me. And I don’t think there is so much to work out anyways. So, if you are my real life friend and are reading this and wondering, hesitantly or fearfully if this is about you. It might be. But it probably isn’t. And again. Even if it is. It’s not REALLY about you. And if it isn’t. It could be. If we have been friends for more than five minutes, we have probably had a moment like this. So, back to me venting to my husband.