Karate Kid

 Awhile ago, Little One was invited to a classmate's birthday party.  It was a TAE KWON DO! party.  That's how you say it.  YAHHH! 

With coaxing, Little One consented to a loose cotton shift with matching puff-sleeved T-shirt and leggings, rather than a fluffy party dress.  She wasn't sure a party could be a party without a party dress, but She was keen on trying TAE KWON DO! so She relented.  

It was a super cool party.  The instructors were great and put the kids through their paces for a whole lesson in TAE KWON DO! Stretches, warm-ups, kicks and punches.  There was some bowing.  Little One curtseyed.  Fiercely.  There were games and a pretty awesome skills demonstration by the teachers.  Everyone was psyched up!

So for the final touch, the instructors brought out thin wooden boards, and asked the birthday boy (a longtime student) to break one with a Hiii-yaaaah! Which he did, to the great admiration of his peers.  There was bowing.  Each child got their turn to go up in front of everyone and display their awesomeness by breaking a board.  Little One went last.  

She wasn't at all the youngest, but She was by far the littlest.  Still, She was ready and She hit that board with all Her might! ...and She hit it again! um....and again...and again.  She paused.  The teacher encouraged Her, gave Her some tips.  She tried again! She wanted to break that thing SO badly, She tried with both fists at once!  

It was cute.  

So, unfortunately, everyone laughed. 

Little One froze. She shrank into Her raised fists.  She peered, red-faced, over a shoulder at all Her friends and their parents, laughing.  At Her.  She gave it one more try. Sort of.  Then She just shook Her head, fighting tears.  

Her fists fell, Her eyes fell.  She ran from the mat to my side, taking a deep, deep breath to hold back from crying.  

Sometimes, Peanuts.  Sometimes we try.  Hard.  But, sometimes, we fail.  Sometimes we do.

The party went on, instructors demonstrating impossible kicks and flips and YAHH!s.  

When they finished, they began stacking the unused boards, cleaning up for cake time, and I saw Little One take a few steps towards the teacher- then back. She stared at those boards.

For a split second, my mind raced.  What did I hope She would learn from this?  

I want Her to know that sometimes, we fail.  That life goes on, nonetheless.  I want Her to know that it's ok to fail, that as Her mother I don't need Her never to fail.  

I also want Her to know something else.

I whispered into Her ear. 

"Little One.  I am sure he would let you try one more time if you ask."

She took a couple steps- then stepped back. 

"Little One.  He won't let you try if you don't ask. They are cleaning up, so this is your last chance today.  Go ahead and ask! He will say yes."

She looked up at me with such big, hopeful eyes.  

"Little One.  You. Can. Do. It.  I KNOW you can.  Go for it!"

Her little fingers clenched into fists. She turned. She took a step.  Stopped.  

Then, in a burst of courage She ran over to the teacher and tugged at his uniform sleeve.   I saw him bend over, and She whispered into his ear.  He smiled.  

"Wait a minute!" He announced to the party, "we have one more try!"

He helped Her set Her stance.  It was cinematically silent in the room.  He hollered, "GO!"

Little One stared at that board.  She took a breath.  

I took a breath.  

This was one of those parent moments in which a large gamble is taken.  I knew when I said the words "I know you can do it", that I was creating a Turning Point.  That after that, things could either go very well, or very badly.  As She raised Her hand over the board, I knew that I could do nothing for Her.  

But I think sometimes you have to bet on your kids, knowing they might fail, knowing you can't hedge the bet for them.  Because win or lose, I wanted Her to know that no matter what- no matter how many times She hadn't broken it before, no matter how many times She fails at anything- I believe in Her.  And I do.  As it turns out, all She really needed (and maybe all She'll ever need) was to believe in Herself.  As She brought Her hand down, She cracked that board clean in two.  

The teacher jumped up and cheered.  The whole room clapped and cheered! 

Little One turned around beaming from head to foot.  She looked around.  Why, those people who had laughed at Her had really been pulling for Her all along! They were happy for Her! She looked down shyly into Her hands and muttered "thanks", then skipped back to me.  

She looked up, eyes shining, and whispered, "Mommy.  I did it!" 

Between you and me, Peanuts, I may have nearly peed my pants for about two seconds there.  Maybe.  But I cupped Her little chin in my hand and looker Her right in the eye and told Her the deep-down-from-my-heart truth.  "I knew you could." 

Sometimes when we try, we fail.  That's life.  But sometimes.  Sometimes when we try again, we succeed.  I will never know whether I taught that to Little One that day, or She taught it to me.  But there it is.  

It was just a small moment at a small party.  

But Little One has talked about it since.  I have heard Her retort, to a child who teased Her for being small, "well.  I am little.  But you know, I'm a superhero.  I can break a board with mine own hand. I did it 'afore."  I'm not much of a gambler, but I would say this bet had a big payoff.  

So when the birthday party dojo offered a special on TAE KWON DO! classes, well.  They had a perfect sucker in this proud mama.  

 

Today was Her first official lesson.  It's a trial run; we'll see how it suits Her.  But this time, there was no sitting out, so hanging back.  No curtseys, even.  

Watch out, world.  

She's small.  

But -as we really already knew- She's fierce!