Pony Pride

Yesterday, off-handedly but with sincere enthusiasm, I mentioned to Blue that today was Pony Picture Day at his preschool. I figured he'd be excited to hear what awaited him at school on Monday morning, but I was wrong.

For those who are not aware, Pony Picture Day is, well, just like it sounds: you get your picture taken while sitting on a pony. We have two years worth of pictures of Boogah sitting on a pony donning a cowboy hat and vest (by his third year, we were over the pony and had him just pose with a pumpkin on a hay bail), and we even have a picture of Blue from last year (his first year of preschool) sitting atop of a very docile and friendly pony. Well, he must not remember doing this at all last year because this morning, he was not about to go sit on that damn pony. I should have known something was up when he asked yesterday how big a pony was. Me, being the oh-so attentive mother that I am, said something very non-helpful like, "Not very big." Well, he must have been mulling this over all evening and into the night (his classic, "Mommy? I can't sleep" at bedtime would have been another clue that something was bothering him --to an attentive mother that is!) because as soon as his eyes popped open this morning, he was armed with a mind-numbing "I don't want to go to school" mantra. I did take slight notice of this because he's never been one of those kids you have to pry off your leg or have the teacher rip from your arms to get them to go to school. He loves toys and other kids, so school is the best of all worlds to him. So, why wouldn't he want to go to school today? Then it dawned on me--pretty much during the drive to the school he didn't want to go to-- that he might actually be nervous about the pony. (Yes, I'm a quick one!) When I asked him, I found out that this was indeed the case. So, I told him that he didn't have to sit on the pony if he didn't want to. I told him that it was OK to be scared, but if he went and tried it, it may turn out to not be scary at all. I told him that Mommy gets scared to do certain things, too, but I usually find that I'm happy once I've tried to do whatever it is I think is scary. And I told him I'd let his teachers know that he didn't want to sit on the pony. After all my pep talking, he reluctantly, walked with me into school. But when we got to his classroom, he actually clung to my leg and said that he "just wanted to go home." After many attempts by his teachers and me at cajoling him into staying, I finally had to pull out the 'tough love.' I told him that he could go home, but when we got there, he wouldn't get to watch Power Rangers (uh, watch them again--yes, he'd already watched an episode or two before school. I know, I know, inattentive AND I let him watch t.v.--Power Rangers no less--before school. I, also, let him eat sugar. I'm not winning any awards any time soon, am I?) I said, "You can either stay here and have fun playing with your friends, or you can come home with me and no t.v." Eureka! I'm brilliant! It worked. He said he'd stay at school, and then he was off like a flash, as usual, playing blocks with his best buddy in the class. I believe I actually released an audible sigh of relief at that moment. Ahhh. Crises averted.

The whole incident got me thinking about fear and how it has a tendency to rule, or more so, inhibit our actions. Even in my advancing (ahem!)years, that uncomfortable prickle of fear creeps up on me quite often, making me halt and turn the other way so that I don't have to face whatever it is that scares me. I tell my kids that it's OK to be scared, but that they can't let it stop them from trying new things because I know that pang of regret and that bit of shame that comes with not trying something because I let the fear grip too tightly. This might be why I've been inching my way recently into writing, having avoided it for most of my life. I've avoided trying to write despite the fact that it was the one thing I remember wanting to do 'when I grew up.' Did I push my childhood ambitions aside because I feared not being good enough and failing? Did I fear actually succeeding, thinking that I didn't really deserve success? Or, was I simply fearful of the unknown, the toughest of all fears to overcome? Maybe it's all three or maybe it's more. Only many hours of therapy will uncover the reasons behind the whys, but I don't have the patience for that or for my fear anymore, so I'm trying to write--albeit slowly and cautiously, but I'm still trying.

After all, how can I tell Blue, when he fears the unknown pony, that he needs to face his fear and just try it, if I'm not willing to do the same? How could I have, in good conscience, encouraged Boogah to get past his fear on the first day of Kindergarten or even again on the first day of First Grade when his nerves were so intense he was almost shaking, if I don't ever step out of my own safe zone? I can't. And that is what I try to remember as I write this blog and attempt to write articles for content websites and when--are you ready for this one?-- I actually share my writing with other people! Yikes! The thought of it makes me want to curl up in the fetal position with my hands over my ears and sing, "La, la, la, la, la, la!" until it all goes away...but then moments like this morning with Blue pop into my consciousness, and I take a deep breath, and get a grip, and tell myself that it's OK to be scared and that all I ask of me is that I try.

When I picked Blue up from school today, his teachers all exclaimed that he SAT ON THE PONY! He just went up there and did it. No crying and no more cajoling needed. He simply did it. And he even smiled for the picture! I guess he sized up that pony and discovered that it wasn't half as scary as he thought it would be. He pushed past the fear, and as a result, he enjoyed the experience. I could see the pride on his face as he confirmed his teachers' claims, and I was so very proud of him, too.

Thanks, Blue, for teaching Mommy a little something today. I hope I did the same for you.