Fatherhood Follies: Overcoming adversity
What to do when it goes awry
I have a close friend that is a nationally certified youth soccer coach. He’s taught me a lot about parenting, especially when it comes to extracurricular activities. If I could sum up his advice it would probably go something like this:
Help them find an activity that really excites their passion
When you find it, don’t get in the way of that passion!
Most of us are really great at the first bullet and pretty bad at the second. Staying out of the way is really hard. In spite of my introspective and analytical nature, I’m constantly screwing that up, and screwing up parenting in general. When I’m not bouncing the basketball off my daughter’s face I am telling her not to worry about her performance because all of her peers are terrible at sports too.
When it comes to my daughter’s “pee wee” martial arts classes, the desire to intervene is very strong. I have always loved martial arts but never participated. This is called living vicariously. So I solved that problem by signing up for the adult jiu jitsu class and getting pounded into the mat a couple times per week. Now I can watch my daughter grapple with the other kids in class and not feel the need to be emotionally invested. It’s just a learning experience.
What happens, however, when your child faces adversity and needs you? It’s no longer about the desire or passion to participate. The actual participation is at stake.
Parenting is hard. And we need to celebrate our victories as parents too. I want to be careful about pride, so let me assure you that I will screw this up next time. But this time I got it right. Allow me to walk you through what I experienced yesterday and maybe it will help you get it right the next time too.
The scene
My six year old daughter loves her martial arts class. The passion is over the top. It’s a mix of tae kwon do and jiu jitsu, and it builds self confidence like nothing I have ever seen. The point of the class is effort, spirit, and respect. These are tools for life.
Yesterday was her big day as she was getting her “pee wee” purple belt. She was so excited that she asked me to pick her up from school rather than riding the bus home. She loves the bus, but it’s sometimes a little late and that makes the transition to martial arts class tight. She didn’t want to be late to the gym for her big day.
Unfortunately, her excitement got the best of her. As we parked and started to unload the minivan with her little sister and her gear, she tripped and lost her balance as she was stepping out. She fell face first from the minivan onto the parking lot pavement.
You always know when it’s the real deal. Kids take that pause… and then the scream comes. That ear piercing scream.
Addressing the situation
My first concern was is anything broken or bleeding. I needed to check where the pain was coming from and if she needed any medical attention.
I tried to stay calm, and what helped me do that was feeling emotionally connected with her. Oh shit, not on the big day! I just felt so bad for her. I knew how important this day was.
I also needed to corral her younger sister, age 3, who likes to wander aimlessly through parking lots while picking her nose.
So as I blocked the three year old from leaving the minivan, I scooped my daughter up and asked her to stand up inside the minivan door area so that I could inspect the damage.
Patience is key here. She is losing her shit. But I really need to know what the problem was so I can take the right action. The secret to calming her down was empathy. I acknowledged to her how unfortunate this was from a timing perspective. Oh no, I bet you wanted everything to be perfect today. It’s your purple belt day and you wanted a perfect class, right? She nodded. Then we both realized that some of the anguish here was emotional, not physical. That was a good sign to me. An urgent care visit was likely not in our future.
She’s knocked out two teeth already from falling, and that actually saved us. She smacked her mouth on the ground right where those two teeth used to be. Haha, some luck! Her mouth, while aching, wasn’t bleeding as there’s no tooth to lose.
The other problem was her knee. I needed to assess the damage to see if class was going to be possible. You can’t limp through these classes, they are no joke. So I hiked up her pant leg and was as reassuring as possible. Hey, at least there’s no blood. I know it hurts but that’s a good sign.
Fixing the psyche
Now for the hard part. Physically we’re fine. I know she can walk it off, but how do I get her there?
The first thing I needed to remember is that regardless of what happens, this isn’t the end of the world. Let’s just see how she does and not make it a huge deal. I want to put her in a position to succeed, and that means it’s up to her if she goes to class or not. If she doesn’t make it, we’ll simply adjust and be positive that it will happen next time.
So I took the approach of preaching patience. Don’t stress, kiddo. We have time to relax and see how you feel. Take your time. Move your knee little by little. Let’s just try to breathe for the next minute or two.
Breathing is calming. I teach in through the nose and out the mouth. Expand the belly so the lower lungs stretch and more air gets in. I ask her to look into my eyes and I do it with her.
Once she had sufficiently calmed down, could I get her in the gym? Again, I want to use it as an opportunity to get the mind in the right place. She likes the independence of going into the bathroom by herself to change into her uniform. It’s new for her. I offered that as a chance to see how her knee is holding up. Why don’t we go inside so you can change, taking your time because we’re not late, and then you can see how you feel once you’re in uniform?
That finished the job. By the time she came out, her body was still sore but her mind was completely locked in. She took her spot on the mat and sat cross-legged ready for class to begin.
And then she went out there and kicked ass and got her purple belt.
The conclusion
I didn’t say much to her afterward. We went to get ice cream with a couple of her friends from class and the nose picker. But at bedtime I had a message for her. I told her the truth. If that had happened to me when I was six years old, there is no way I could have pulled myself together and gone to class. I was not nearly as tough as she is. That was my way of saying I was proud of her.
And I’m happy for myself for handling that one well. But not too happy. I know how easy it is to screw up parenting and if I think for a second that I have this figured out, I will be the next one to fall on my face. If you’re a parent, you know exactly what I mean.
Follow me on Twitter @DavidfromLiveB1 and on Gab at gab.com/livebetternow.
Gold star for dad today!