News & Notes

During family dinner recently, my son Freddie was talking about his newfound fascination with the world of Mario Kart—specifically whether Bowser was a real monster.  We assured him he wasn’t, but as he worked through the difference between make-believe and real life, he concluded, “Well, that’s good, because I think Daddy and I could run away from him, but not Mommy, because she’s not fast enough, so we’d have to protect her.”

I could have let it go or turned it into a gentle teaching moment. Instead, I caught my husband’s grin, knew he could see exactly what was coming, and said, “Drop your fork. We’re going outside.” What my sweet, mistaken child did not know was that I have a sharp competitive edge, and it struck a nerve that my son thought I was some slow damsel in need of protection.

I let Freddie map out a racecourse—a loop around a nearby mailbox—and I did not hold back. The poor guy asked for rematch after rematch, and I smoked him every time. As he collapsed into a puddle of tears in the driveway, I simply said, “That’s what happens when you call your mom slow,” and left him outside to wallow. Did I think it was some great achievement to beat a five-year-old in a race? No. Do I think it was terrible to crush the unearned confidence of said five-year-old? Also no.

Admittedly, I didn’t expect him to be quite as heartbroken as he was. But once he collected himself, it gave us plenty to talk about! He certainly learned a little more about his mom that day, in more ways than one. More importantly, he had to sit with and work through a big disappointment. As much as I love his confidence, I think it’s good for everyone to be humbled from time to time.

Most of all, it became a lesson in the power of “not yet.” We talked a lot about growth mindset, and I assured him that there would come a day he’d beat me in races every single time. As an added bonus, he now grumbles less about vegetables and is eager to learn which healthy foods will help him beat his mom in a race.

This brought me back to an article I wrote last November about the dignity in struggle. In many ways, this felt like the five-year-old version of that same lesson. It’s okay to embrace—or, dare I say, even create—a tough moment for our kiddos. Constantly managing and protecting kids’ happiness and confidence in every little moment doesn’t usually amount to a happy, confident adult. If they aren’t used to disappointment, they won’t recognize the beauty of resilience or the joy of overcoming something hard. If they haven’t experienced humility, their confidence can start to blur into arrogance. Sometimes it’s okay to take them down a notch when they need it. And who knows? Maybe it’ll even convince them to eat more vegetables.