I Think I Can, I Think I Can

Our three-and-a-half-year-old boy often gives up after one failed attempt at something new.  Mini-golf back at Christmastime is the perfect example. Finn showed up with his game face on, chose his club, and was raring to go.  He hit the ball a few times, realized it was hard to get it to go into the hole and abandoned the game all together.  The Little Engine That Could Would be disappointed.

This week Finn faced a challenge he was determined to conquer and would not give up.  My parenting antenna went up telling me this was going to be one of those pivotal moments and I'd better pay attention.  We were at Little Monkey Bizness--a familiar Wednesday destination--and out of nowhere Finn decides he needs to make a basket in the "big kid" hoop in the bounce house.

Ball in hand he climbs into the bounce house talking about how that hoop is really tall, but he wants to make a basket.  He shoots and misses.  He shoots and misses, again.  Again and again and again and again, he keeps shooting, but no luck.  My poor little boy is getting frustrated, but keeps going.  He is crying and not at all consoled by me saying, "I am so proud of how hard you are trying!"  He pauses to come to the doorway for a tissue and goes straight back to the basket.  He shoots, misses, and throws himself down in frustration.  He has no interest in my proposal to rest and trying again later.

He starts to get creative and climbs to the top of the slide to go at it from a better angle.  He still misses and now has to climb back down, retrieve the ball, and climb back up again before he takes his next shot.  At this point Grandma can't handle watching his desperation any longer and climbs in the bounce house to help him.  Lifting him up to make the basket is not a satisfactory solution.  Yet Grandma makes a good "ball girl" and hands the ball back up to him again and again.  Finally, FINALLY he makes a basket and we cheer.  He shoots again, makes another basket, and we are still cheering.  He is proud of himself and that, my parenting instincts and Alfie Kohn tell me, is the best reward of all.