At the beginning of the racing season Ethan had a little mishap. He broke his collarbone and it took him out for at least seven weeks. Eight weeks later, I was ready to go watch my son ride his dirtbike and enjoy himself, but that wasn't the case. The longer he was off the bike, the harder it was for him to get back on. It's like that saying about "getting right back on the horse", well unfortunately he didn't have that option. The longer he was able to sit and think about what had happened, or more importantly, what could have happened the harder it was to get him on the bike.
I didn't want to push him, I'm not that kind of a Mom. But I didn't want to let his fear control him either. So there I was stuck between being the "stage mom" and the mom who would forever regret her decision to let her son quit because of "the fear". I had to find a way to get him riding again without being pushy.
A couple weeks ago Ron took him riding at a local field they practice at. He said he had fun, but also said the Ethan had told him he didn't want to race anymore. Sure, a part of me was a little sad. Racing is something he has done for five years. The excitement of the Friday night racing, the comradery of the families at the track, watching him ride and jump, it's something that can't really be described, but it was sort of our summer tradition.
If he really wanted to quit, that would be his decision, not ours. But I still wasn't convinced it wasn't because of "the fear".
Two weeks ago we attended my companies summer party and happened to run into one of my coworkers who 2 year old son had just fallen off the couch and broken his collarbone. It was the perfect opportunity for me to bring up the subject with Ethan. I explained to him that life is unpredictible in so many ways, that his collarbone could have been broken by rolling off his bed at night while he's sleeping, as much as it was by the dirtbike crash. I told him we knew it would be scary, and the longer he waited the harder it would be. And I left it at that knowing he would ponder it and come to us if he wanted to talk.
It didn't take long, only a few days later he started talking about racing again. We didn't push, we let him talk without jumping completely on the bandwagon. We encouraged him to do what he felt was right without making him feel judged. And it worked. He came to us earlier this past week and said he was ready to race, and as luck would have it, there was a race the next Friday. Ron took him to practice and when they came home he said he's never seen Ethan ride like he did. He said it was amazing! The next day we went through our race day rituals, getting off work early packing the kids up and heading to the track. Everything seemed different, even the people were different, it seemed like it had been years, not months.
I didn't want to push him, I'm not that kind of a Mom. But I didn't want to let his fear control him either. So there I was stuck between being the "stage mom" and the mom who would forever regret her decision to let her son quit because of "the fear". I had to find a way to get him riding again without being pushy.
A couple weeks ago Ron took him riding at a local field they practice at. He said he had fun, but also said the Ethan had told him he didn't want to race anymore. Sure, a part of me was a little sad. Racing is something he has done for five years. The excitement of the Friday night racing, the comradery of the families at the track, watching him ride and jump, it's something that can't really be described, but it was sort of our summer tradition.
If he really wanted to quit, that would be his decision, not ours. But I still wasn't convinced it wasn't because of "the fear".
Two weeks ago we attended my companies summer party and happened to run into one of my coworkers who 2 year old son had just fallen off the couch and broken his collarbone. It was the perfect opportunity for me to bring up the subject with Ethan. I explained to him that life is unpredictible in so many ways, that his collarbone could have been broken by rolling off his bed at night while he's sleeping, as much as it was by the dirtbike crash. I told him we knew it would be scary, and the longer he waited the harder it would be. And I left it at that knowing he would ponder it and come to us if he wanted to talk.
It didn't take long, only a few days later he started talking about racing again. We didn't push, we let him talk without jumping completely on the bandwagon. We encouraged him to do what he felt was right without making him feel judged. And it worked. He came to us earlier this past week and said he was ready to race, and as luck would have it, there was a race the next Friday. Ron took him to practice and when they came home he said he's never seen Ethan ride like he did. He said it was amazing! The next day we went through our race day rituals, getting off work early packing the kids up and heading to the track. Everything seemed different, even the people were different, it seemed like it had been years, not months.
We told Ethan there was no pressure, he didn't need to feel like he needed to push himself to win. Each moto he came off the track smiling and happy. He enjoyed himself, and as a bonus, at the end of the night, left with a 2nd place trophy!
It may have taken longer than we thought, but he's "back in the saddle" and enjoying himself. He's already talking about the next race.
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