Of our four kids, only one was potty-trained by three. Only one learned to write his name in one sitting. Only one can make it through a day of Preschool with no tears, no separation anxiety, and no meltdowns about his shirt tag itching.
Nate is an easy child, a pleaser who has the tenacity, IQ, and athletic ability to make everyone happy with him. So far, his life has been filled with teachers, parents, siblings, and strangers telling him just how awesome he is.
But an easy life like this has some tough consequences. When we praise him, when he easily reads a book, and when his teacher gives a glowing report, he’s happy. But when all of that doesn’t happen? When we’re disappointed he kicked his sister or he can’t sound out a word? He is absolutely crushed. He can’t understand why we don’t like him, why he can’t do anything right.
Failure is hard realization for a kid who has had an easy life. He has no armor to protect himself against life’s sharp jabs. Already at four he’s learned he only needs to put pressure on himself to be impressive. And when that doesn’t work? He has no Plan B.
By the time our other kids were four, they had learned how to get up from the proverbial skinned knee. Our child with learning disabilities taught herself ninja coping strategies to hide it. Our overly sensitive kid had learned deep breathing and “a moment to myself” very early in life. Our struggling reader has learned to give herself grace when she can’t sound out a word immediately. And in the space of that grace, the word always comes.
Life has been harder for those kids, and they have skills to prove it. They expect to study for spelling tests and to need tutoring. They are absolutely okay with being the last kid picked or the first one with a question about fractions. They’ve learned peace with their imperfections.
Nate is still working on giving himself grace, or experiencing the peace that comes from that grace. Even though I know Nate will do well at whatever he tries, I also want him to know how freeing it is to forgive himself. I want him to realize success looks a lot of different ways.
Sometimes success is the perfect race.
And sometimes it’s falling down, skinning your knee, and getting back up.
