Teach, Your Children Well

I will be the first to admit I could never homeschool my children.  Those that do are very patient saints, or must have an entirely different relationship with their kids than I do with mine.  Seven plus years into this motherhood journey, I can now acknowledge the traits that make me a good mom - I am a nurturer, a good listener, a cheerleader, an organizer, a referee, a supporter, a fun-planner.  A teacher...I am not.

As is typical for them, my boys have completely different learning styles.  Ethan has a will of steel and will attempt to muscle through any challenge, determined to succeed and willing it to be so.  And when sheer will does not suffice, he crumbles in despair, refusing to accept help or comfort.  Adam, on the other hand, approaches challenges with a significantly more laissez-faire attitude.  He'll give nearly anything a go, but is just as willing to walk away when things don't come easily.  He is naturally attracted to things he is good at, and leaves the rest behind without much thought.  He tires easily and does not have the blind stick-to-it-ness that often brings his brother to tears.  When forced to stick to it, and to push through a challenge he meets, Adam also crumbles in despair.  A quieter, lazier despair, but a crumbling despair nonetheless.  And it turns out that either type of crumbling, particularly on a ski slope, or at a skating rink, or at the bottom of a sledding hill, or in the middle of a challenging handicraft (e.g. rainbow loom, perler beads, origami, or some other such hobby created to drive parents mad) is a pet peeve of mine.

Although I have been aware of my teaching ineptitude for quite some time, I continue to find (put?) myself in situations where my boys need some teaching.  Last week I had the grand idea to take Adam to Shawnee Peak for the day, just him and me, to tackle the magic carpet and the bunny slope, over and over and over.  A day with just mom and this beginner skier will surely master the slopes, I thought.  All four of us will be skiing the blues together in no time!  How silly I am.  About a third of the way down that first run, I realized just how silly.  I was sweating, he was sweating, he was crumbling and crumpling, I was yelling and yanking and yelling some more.  (As an aside, I think I've finally learned that yelling "get up!" at a child who has fallen while skiing/skating/whatever is about as effective of a parenting strategy as yelling "go to sleep!" to a child who's having trouble at bedtime.)  In short, we were both having a miserable time.  Ethan would have just pushed through it in a solo fit of rage, and I would have left him alone, in my own silent frustration.  But Adam is different.  At one point he just looked up at me with such innocent eyes and said "I'm trying Mommy - I just don't know what to do!"  It was enlightening and heartbreaking all at the same time.  And at that moment I decided to stop fighting him and try, instead, to join his team.  Imagine that!  I suddenly saw a little five year old who was trying his hardest and was just gosh darn tired.  I acknowledged how hard he'd been working, and gave him a break.  We went in for an early lunch, put our feet up for a bit, bought one of those do-hickeys that holds ones tips together, and met the rest of the day with a whole different perspective and set of expectations.  And just like that, the day turned around on a dime.  Things started to click for both of us - Adam suddenly figured out his wedge and I began to understand, just a little bit, what motivated this child of mine. What to say and what not to say, where he needed direction and how to deliver it, how to boost his confidence.  It's embarrassing and alarming to admit that I am learning this five years into our relationship, but I suppose it is better late than never.

So while I still recognize my limits, and fully intend to leave the teaching to the teachers, I feel a little more prepared for our next adventure.  On the way home that day Adam asked when we could go again, telling me how much he loved skiing.  I was so thankful that his reflections on the day were positive, as mine were, and that we didn't succumb to our frustrations and give up before we got to enjoy learning together.  And while I started the day feeling frustrated and helpless, I finished it feeling fulfilled and happy and proud.  Proud of my Adam for learning to ski, and proud of his mama for learning how to teach him.

"I got this, Mommy."

Snacks are always a good idea.

Ethan willing himself though a water obstacle course

And determined to be good on skates 

This picture sums up my boys' personalities perfectly.

And I love how their personalities complement each other; together they are an unstoppable team!