As a girl, doing a backflip on the trampoline was easy for me. I could see where I was going and how I would land. A front flip on the other hand, was a different story. I felt like I was blindly propelling myself forward, unable to see how I would land. I could understand the physical steps required, but it was a mental act I couldn’t master. And then I would hear my father’s words in my head: ‘Be careful, you don’t want to break your neck.’
Well, when you put it that way, of course I didn’t. I never mastered a front flip, and I would be careful in so many ways even beyond the gym. I was always the good girl, the A student, meticulous in my school work, in tidiness, in life. I’m sure that caution was part of my personality, but it was also verbally reinforced in such a way that I became even more risk-averse.
Flash forward 25 years, and life is a funny thing. As a mom, I told myself I’d never overuse the phrase “be careful” with my kids. Then I had a son who learned how to ride his bike without training wheels at the age of three. Who looks at a playground, seemingly evaluates the highest point and then makes a beeline for it. As a four-year-old, he would proudly scramble to the pinnacle of the rope pyramid, and holler down to me 25 feet below. Look at me, mom. The other parents all around glanced over at me, horrified expressions on their faces.
I’d shade my eyes against the sun and squint up at him, simultaneously proud and terrified.
“I see you buddy, good job!” And then the phrase all the parents expected: “Be careful.”
“Be careful.” It’s not what I want to say, more like a knee-jerk verbal reaction stemming from maternal instinct. With kids now seven and nine, I’ve now said these words hundreds of times. Usually, I want to grab them tightly in my fist and stuff them back in my mouth. Because the truth is, I’d rather them take risks than look back and have regrets about doing that front flip.
Of course, I don’t want my kids to be reckless or injured doing crazy things. As moms, it’s our job to teach our children boundaries and basic safety. But when they attempt something new, I don’t want my words of caution to instill fear in them or hold them back in any way.
I’m still a work in progress, but I’m working to re-frame my inner mom dialog to toe the line of safety and yet help propel them toward that obstacle they can conquer.
Climb as high as you’re comfortable.
If you think you can do it, then go for it.
Make that leap.
You’re brave.
I believe in you.
Don’t be afraid of the ball.
You’ve got this.
When my kids look back on their childhood, I want them to remember me watching from the sidelines with words of encouragement on my lips. Words that motivate them to believe in themselves, inspire them to try something new, and to conquer their fears, not succumb to them.
