You Can't Do Anything If You Put Your Mind To It

This is a concept I'm attempting to teach my children in a positive way. Damien, of course, has gone to a year of school and been fed this lovely, empowering, and patently untrue (when taken literally) principle, and he is SUCH a literal child that I occasionally have to crush dreams of sprouting wings or running (on foot) to Colorado to visit his grandmas tomorrow through sheer willpower.

When I was pregnant with Malachi, I faced the lovely glucose tolerance test. Many women dislike this test because of the icky, syrupy test substance, but my specific circumstances make it more of an issue of actual inability. I considered refusing to even attempt it, but after much pressure from my doctor and nurses, I made the poor decision to push through it. Having undergone a gastric bypass and being the owner of a small pouch instead of a standard-sized stomach, I am unable to consume significant volumes of food or drink, and anything with a high concentration of sugar makes me temporarily quite ill. However, never having placed an actual quantifiable limit on either volume or sugar concentration, I decided to give the test a shot and try the limits. 

If you've ever done the glucose test, you know that you're given a fairly small bottle of an unnaturally-colored liquid of sickly-sweet, disgustingness; the intensity of the nasty is generally dependent on brand, flavor and temperature. You are told you must consume the entire bottle in five minutes or less, and then a timer is set and your blood is drawn at appropriate times depending on the method of testing. The nurse handed me the bottle and I realized I had made a grave mistake in proceeding with this test: it definitely exceeded my capacity. I had already had my preliminary blood drawn so I (stupid stupid stupid) decided to do it anyway. At 4 minutes I was *maybe* halfway through. The nurse came in and chastised me, saying that I would have to start over if I didn't hurry up. Then she left the room, failed to close the door all the way, and began loudly complaining to my doctor that I was dawdling. He reminded her that this was a particularly difficult procedure for me and she might need to give me some extra time. (Thank goodness SOMEONE understood how difficult it is to fit a half-cup of syrupy nastiness into a quarter-cup container.) She sighed irritably, and then she said it: "It's not that hard- it's just mind over matter."

You don't need to know the details of the rest of the story. A vague overview involves nearly passing out and falling off the exam table, vomiting in a trash can in the lobby, and spending the next three days in bed. It was a bad idea. I should have refused. I should have told them "I'm sorry, I can't do this test." I shouldn't have decided to just "put my mind to it." Sometimes, matter wins.

And now I'm realizing- do I set my children up for situations like this when I preach to them that they can do anything if they just put their minds to it? If I tell my kid he can do anything if he just wills it hard enough, or learns enough, or practices enough, what do I tell him when he proves, due to nature or circumstance, to be simply incapable of accomplishing something? I remember being asked to put something away, as a child, that was supposed to be put on a shelf that I simply could not reach, no matter what I climbed. My limitation (height) was not one I chose, nor one I had any power to change by a force of will. And I was devastated that I had failed. 

So I've decided to un-teach my children this idea. For a positive replacement, I will teach them the following:

In everything you do, do the best you can.

Sometimes you will try and fail. This does not diminish your worth.

Have the courage to sometimes say "No, I cannot do that." Have the humility to admit when a task is better-suited to someone else.

Be honest about your strengths. Draw on the strengths of those who love you to fill in where you are limited.

I believe that we can, someday, attain every righteous desire of our hearts. But sometimes, when every effort fails, it's not that day yet. And sometimes, it's not the right desire. We need to have faith in our abilities, but we also need to recognize our inabilities and know that we aren't meant to be completely capable, whatever our measure of determination. I don't entirely hate the concept of "you can do anything if you put your mind to it" because I understand that it isn't meant to be taken to the extreme of sprouting wings, but for my very denotative child, I think this will work much better.

And as a side note, I'll definitely be refusing all future glucose tolerance testing.