I am also thankful that God allowed this only child to grow up around horses. There are many benefits to a good horse + a good trainer + supportive parents + a kid who needs some maturation. Take any of the first three elements out and you usually have a train wreck. Or a stampede. But riding and training a young horse also has immeasurable benefit to training a young woman. Below are a few thoughts I had about horses and mothering as I was re-reading Jankovic's book today:
The Little Ain't Cute When It's Big
One of my students asked recently how I keep perspective when one of my children is having a hissy fit in the middle of a store. Well, I responded, I imagine what this temper tantrum will look like when they are thirty. Passive Aggressive manipulative man-eater? Sociopath? A reality TV star? It's not a pretty picture. I learned this lesson very quickly with horses. When a foal nibbles you, it is cute, but when a 1,000 pound animal takes a bite, you could lose a finger. When a baby horse leans on you and playfully head buts you, imagine when that full-grown horse thinks you're his scratching post, kickboxing bag, or easy chair. People are so often intimated by horses, and I tell them, he needs to know you're bigger than him. With patience, kindness, and firmness, you convince him it's true. The same applies to kids, and thank goodness we ARE bigger than them while they are toddlers.
Break the Will, Not the Spirit
I never would have worded it this way, but listening to a series by Douglas Wilson gave words to a thought I've long tried to explain about horses and children. The goal is to break their will, not their spirit. For horses, if you break both you get a nag of a horse shuffling around the arena with dull eyes. If you don't break either, a pleasant ride is quickly going to turn into a dangerous rodeo event. The best horses, and the best people, I've ever met have fully functioning spirits - life and luster and brilliance and a little craziness - but broken wills that accept responsibility, submission, and teamwork. By the time Skyler and I finished showing we had something like ten Regional and three National titles. Skyler never should have been a great horse - he still is sensitive and gangly, with every part of his body moves in different directions. I tried to make him do all the events I wanted to do. No go. He was too unique. I needed to learn him - and once we melded Trail with a lot of hard work and discipline, he was exceptional. The same is true for children. They are some of your greatest subjects. Watch them. Learn them. Figure out what makes them tick and feed it with everything you have. But discipline that will and bring it into submission, otherwise no matter how gifted or creative or intelligent, you have a ticking time-bomb of a bronc.
It means you mess up a lot. Skyler and I, all told, probably lost more rides than we won. Kids with broken spirits and wills don't create a lot of messes. They also create no masterpieces.
It means you don't look like everyone in the crowd. I would spend hours hauling out poles and obstacles and riding them constantly. I was up hours before anyone else so I could ride Skyler because he was the energizer bunny, and I needed to work harder and follow a different routine than other people. People would wonder why we won so often and generally rode at a different level. Hard work. If you're looking at a family and wondering why the kids are so good, it is hard work, first by the Holy Spirit, and then by the parents. It's no secret formula.
It means you color outside the lines, you ride a pattern completely different, and you probably laugh a lot more as you ride out with the championship ribbon. Take all your creativity and apply it to your children. Think of ways to feed their loves and talents and bent; don't conform them to your own.
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