“I just can’t do it!!” My five-year-old son yelled, throwing the pencil to the ground. “It’s just too hard!!” Angry with himself, he fled the room, his attempts to write his letters properly abandoned in a heap on the floor next to the pencil.
Torn between running after him and letting him work it out himself, I lingered behind, retrieving the abandoned pencil and smoothing out the wadded up paper. I glanced down at the meticulous work he had rejected. Pride welled up in my eyes as I gazed upon the backward “S” and shaky ”G”.
But those flaws were not what caused my sudden tears and desire to run into his room and hug him hard. What I saw was a careful straight line of letters that a few weeks ago had been carelessly crooked. I saw a perfect “D” and a flair to the “A” that had been missing from his previous attempts. I saw the progress that he didn’t see. I saw his potential.
The next day, determined to “get in shape” once and for all, I decided it was time to add the extra riser to my step and the extra pounds to my dumbbells. The morning after, I just lay there, paralyzed by soreness. “Come on,” I told myself, “Why can’t you just get in shape? What’s wrong with you?”
Work wasn’t much better. Over the course of the day, I doubted my ability to tackle a challenging project; berated myself for dipping into the candy dish that perpetually sits on the Administrative Assistant’s desk; and condemned myself for working late and having to rush out the door to pick up my son on time.
Why is it so easy for us to set our kids up to win, but we constantly set ourselves up to fail? With children, if they do something even close to what they are trying to do, we admire and encourage them. We adults tell ourselves “maybe close, but no cigar.”
And as a result, our kids grow and expand at an astronomical rate, while we often struggle along just to survive.
I was playing Yahtzee Jr. with my son the other night. I was having a fantastic game, with four “Yahtzees” (they are easier to get in Yahtzee Jr, but still…) on my scorecard. He, however, didn’t do as well. “That’s okay, Mom,” my son enthused. “I tried. Let’s play again. I’ll bet I’ll win this time!” Alright, his manipulation to get me to play another game worked. After all, how could I argue with such optimism? He didn’t pout that the game was fixed. He didn’t complain. Instead, he recognized that he tried, and saw the potential to try again. He set himself up to win. And he did!
Despite our inclination to do otherwise, we can all set our lives up to win. For example, I can feel my aching muscles in the morning and be proud of the extra effort I put into my workout. I can face a project at work with enthusiasm for the challenge rather than self-doubt. I can be thankful that I was able to only take from the candy dish one time rather than dip into it all day long. And I can be proud of my commitment to complete a task and happy for a car that I love to ride in with an awesome stereo to inspire me as I drive frantically to pick my son up on time.
In other words, rather than crumbling up my life into a wad and rejecting it like an old piece of paper, I can look at it and see my progress and potential, not my flaws. And you can do it too! It’s not easy, but it’s worth it. Give yourself the same benefit you give your kids. See your potential – and set yourself up to win!
“I just can’t do it!!”