Family Time, Friends, Raising Boys, Sunny Florida, Working Mom

My son makes me brave!

I am a bit of a fraidy cat. I don’t like horror movies, heights, or strangers. I was raised in NYC so I tend to see trouble a mile away. Still trips me out at how friendly Floridians are. I tend to play it safe with a lot of things. Being a mom has thrown a lot of that out of the window. I know that my tendency to be afraid of my own shadow, is not always a good trait and something I don’t want to pass on to my kids.

This weekend my son and I were enjoying a mommy-son day (sans twins) at a local theme park. We met two of my friends and their sons for a fun-filled day of rides and shows. Pretty early on into the play-date, the subject of roller coasters came up. Both of the boys, a 4-year old and 5-year old, had already ridden a roller coaster but my son had not.  Lately my 5-year old had been vocalizing that he was not a fan of roller coasters, they were scary and he would not ride them.  And I completely agree with him.  I find them to be useless and I just don’t get the attraction. Why would anyone want to be out of control and scared for 90 seconds?  Makes no sense to me at all. But I couldn’t tell him that I agreed with him. I already felt guilty that perhaps I had been dropping some subliminal hints about the danger of roller coasters. Yikes. This is not what I wanted to happen. I certainly don’t want to raise a fraidy cat. I want my son and daughters to want to try new things and judge for themselves whether or not they like them.  I don’t want them to sit on the sidelines of life. I want them to be brave. {#nowplaying Leann Womack …I hope you dance.}

Then it dawned on me. To make him brave, I had to be brave. I had to model the behavior I wanted him to exhibit. Damn! Damn! Damn! As we stood on the line with our friends, I acknowledged his fear and promised to be with him and hold his hand the entire time. Meanwhile I was freaking out. Who was going to hold my hand?   I had never ever been on a roller coaster and never had any desire to try one. But for my baby, I had to suck it up and ride.

My son loved it. Before the ride ended he declared it the most awesome thing EVER! He threw his 5-year old arms in the air and screamed with delight. For me? Not so much. I was terrified. I hated every single moment of it and I hope that I NEVER, EVER, EVER have to do this again. But I felt braver than I had ever felt in my life. Hopefully my son doesn’t take an interest in skydiving, beekeeping, tight-rope walking or flame-throwing cause mama will have to be right there with him. YIKES!

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This is me!

Twenty fingers, Twenty toes
Plenty of work, heaven knows!
Four little arms to hold tight.
Four little cheeks to kiss at night.
(plus my sweet little boy of course)

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