Back-blogging Part 5

I signed Pete up for a soccer class the last couple months of 2011. I thought he would love it. Remember how his first day he wouldn't answer to anything but Superman? Well, that was the cutest thing ever and it was downhill from there. He became belligerent about the superman thing and he refused to play soccer without his cape. But just because he was wearing the cape didn't mean he would play soccer. He would kick and scream and cry the whole time. No amount of bribes or threats could persuade him. Eventually Andy or I would get up and play. I mean, we were paying for the class, so someone was going to learn soccer. And on a few occasions, Pete would come out and play with us, and we could slowly melt back into the sidelines.

The frustrating thing about the whole situation is that I saw myself in Pete. I saw myself scared to put myself in a situation I am unfamiliar with. I saw myself scared to try something new. I saw myself begging my mom to come with me or do it for me. I saw all my insecurities and apprehensions in my sweet little boy. But what I also saw was what I didn't see as a child. That Pete was safe, that I wasn't leaving him, that he could go out there and look like a fool because every other 3 year old in the class looked like a fool too. I could see that Pete would have a great deal of fun if he just gave it a try. I wish my 3 year old self could have seen that because maybe she would have done more as a child or experienced less anxiety growing up.

The most frustrating thing about it is that I didn't handle it well. I didn't give Pete what I would have wanted as a child. I didn't give him a break. I didn't comfort him. I tried nice for about a minute and then I gave into my frustrations and didn't keep it from Pete. I did it because I was mad that he was experiencing my anxieties. I wish I hadn't done that. It exacerbated the issue, and more than that, it made Pete feel uncertain of his position with me. He felt scared and vulnerable and I gave him no cushion to feel safe on.

The odd thing about this is that I could see how safe Pete was and how ridiculous he was being. But even still I get anxious about new situations, I want a safety net or I want someone to do it for me, to take the edge off, to shield me from uncomfortable situations. But I bet my future self would look back on my younger self and wish I hadn't been so guarded and anxious. I can't expect Pete to jump in if I can't do it myself still. I can't be mad at Pete because I am really frustrated with myself. I can only push myself out of my comfort zone, not Pete. Because if he is anything like me (and as it turns out, in some respects he is), it will only backfire. All I can do is provide a safe zone for Pete to explore until he is ready to broaden his horizon a little more.

It's alarming and enlightening what your children will reveal about you, what stories they will repeat, what memories they will uncover.