The summer when I was 9, my older brother and I spent two weeks at Grandma’s House in the mountains. Somehow it was always Grandma’s House even though Grandpa lived there too. The house belonged to Grandma, but the large workshop/garage behind it was Grandpa’s space. I loved Grandpa’s garage. It was huge, and dark, and smelled of metal. I was only allowed inside if Grandpa was right with me. He frequently escorted me in and let me help with his projects. Grandpa was always tinkering with something. This particular summer he was very focused on physical fitness. He rearranged the area around his garage into a sort of military-style obstacle course. He bolted a chin-up bar between two trees, set out rows of tires on the ground, there were things to climb over and under. The piece de resistance was a rope spanning the distance between two trees 30 feet apart. One end of the rope was close to the ground, the other end 15 feet up. It looked impossibly high to my nine year old self, but I think I would have turned myself inside out if Grandpa asked me to, so I gave it a try.
I suspect my brother and I complained on multiple occasions as Grandpa ran us through this fitness course. I seem to remember Grandma scolding him to not push us so hard. But I don’t remember complaining and I don’t think he pushed us all that hard really. What I do remember is climbing along that rope as high as I dared. Grandpa helped me down and praised me for my efforts. I was so glad to have done well. Then I stood and watched as my older brother attempted the same feat. He only managed about a third of what I had done. My pleasure withered and part of me wished I had not done so well. I did not want my brother to feel bad. It was one of many times that I became forcibly aware that some things which came to me easily were a struggle for my brother. Looking back, I know there is an advantage to being petite when doing a rope climb like that one. My brother was 11 and had developed the stockiness that most boys do at that age. It is a physical preparation for the growth spurt that is to come, but while it lasts, it makes all sorts of physical things more difficult to accomplish. At the time I only knew thatl I had earned praise and my brother had earned admonitions to work harder.
I’ve been thinking a lot about that rope climb lately. I think about it as I watch Link, who lags in both fine and large motor control, and then I watch Gleek, who excels in these same areas. Link is two and a half years older than Gleek. My brother is two years older than me. I can see the same pattern. I try to buffer it. I try to praise Gleek for her accomplishments without making Link feel bad. I pay close attention so I can praise Link for the things he does well, particularly if I can find one where Gleek does not outshine him. The whole situation became much easier when I read this article about praising kids for efforts rather than results. Suddenly I was able to praise all of my kids equally and in front of each other. I was able to make clear to Link that part of the reason Gleek excels in physical things is the amount of time she spends practicing them. She is constantly running, jumping, climbing, or dancing. It should surprise no one that she has gotten very adept at these things.
It is good to have a solution for what to say to the kids, but it still leaves the underlying problem that Link has with motor development. It is a negative feedback loop. Link does not feel good about his physical capabilities and so he avoid situations where he’ll need to use them. This means he never practices them, which in turn means he never improves. Like my brother, Link is a quieter person. His thoughts and feelings turn inward and he always seems fairly content with life. But time and again I discover that he notices and feels bad about his differences. He does not like feeling weak. In his own quiet way, Link has been processing the information about practice and he has begun applying it to physical things. Taking tumbling was his idea. It is a good idea, but the tumbling classes focus on advanced skills. Link needs to practice more basic things. He needs to become comfortable climbing ladders. He needs to be able to cross a set of monkey bars. He needs to jump confidently and land on his feet rather than in a giggling heap. And so I am taking a page out of Grandpa’s book. We have begun using our swing set and that of our backyard neighbor as a sort of fitness ground for Link. So he practices climbing up to the monkey bars and then back down. At first he was nervous to even try. In very short order, he got comfortable doing it. Soon we’ll have him kick off from the ladder to hang and drop. Day by day he will get better until he can swing himself across the monkey bars solo.
That is the practice that Link knows he is doing. I’ve also instituted some practicing that he does not recognize as such. I’ve begun to require him struggle through fine-motor tasks that he usually asks me to do for him. Pouring milk is something that is so easy for me, but for him it is a struggle to lift that heavy jug and balance it carefully while pouring. It is hard to watch him pour, knowing that spills are inevitable, but unless I let him practice he has no chance to master these skills and he needs them. He needs to open containers, and cut his own nails, and fix his own hair. I have even begun to suspect that some of his lingering childishness (he comes across as young for his age) is because he is still physically dependent in dozens of small ways. I’ll be watching with interest to see if that ebbs as his capability and confidence grows.
I want Link to have more confidence before he is sent forth into the wilds of Junior High. I know how cruel peers can be at that age. My brother had a rough time. He survived because he fell in with a very good group of friends. I can not guarantee that the necessary friends will appear for Link, but I can help him practice the things he needs so that he will not be so inviting a target. The good news for Link is that video games are far more widely accepted now than they were when my brother was his age. Being good at video games actually counts for something with peers where it used to be additional cause for ridicule. Link and I have one more year before he makes that transition. I hope I can make it count. For now I just send a silent thank you back to my Grandpa for a helpful key in seeing a problem and finding a solution.