Falling Down

It's inevitable.  If you ride long enough, you're going to fall down. Falling is part of what riders do and if you have a kid that loves to jump, falling is likely going to happen more frequently and in a more spectacular fashion.  Kids that stay earth bound certainly fall but they are unlikely to catapult themselves into large immobile objects as often as a child that chooses the sport of 3 day eventing.  But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The first time the brat child fell off her horse she was 6.  She had been taking riding lessons for about 6 months and was progressing "ahead of the learning curve", or so the trainer I wrote large checks to each and every week assured me.  We were told that the brat child would benefit greatly from having her very own pony so she could ride outside of lessons.  This was the first time I had a trainer upsell me for the benefit of my kid and her checking account.

So we leased a seasoned old pro of a pony with a mouth as hard as iron and a tendency to fall asleep during lessons.  Pony and child became quite the pair and were happily walking and trotting all over the arena on a daily basis.  One day, the brat child noticed a cross rail set up in the middle of the arena and stealthily began trotting closer and closer to the jump.  About five feet from the rail, she abruptly turned the pony towards the jump and the pony trotted over the cross rail then cantered off, much to my non-cantering daughter's horror.  Three strides later, the non-cantering kid did a slow motion slither down the side of the pony and ate dirt.

Now I am not a trainer, hell, I'm not even a horse person, but I knew enough to realize that she had to get back on that cantering pony pronto if we were to salvage any vestige of confidence.  I marched over to the crying and dirt covered child, brushed off her bum and said "Falling down doesn't matter.  What matters is whether you choose to get back up."  She wiped her snotty little mud encrusted nose on her riding glove and got back on, though this time she stayed well away from the jump.

Since then, there have been more falls.  There have been slow falls, fast falls, falls over tiny logs and falls over huge log piles.  Some falls could be predicted well in advance of the actual aerial acrobatics others were a complete shock (as in "How the heck did that happen?"). There have been falls that got her dirty, falls that got her wet, falls that added grass stains to her breeches and falls that required new helmet purchases.  Usually, I tried to stay out of the way, keep my mouth shut, and allow the kid and her trainer to work through what happened but once or twice I have become involved. 

I was most vocal when I saw the kid lawn dart off her very large horse and into a substantial jump. The horse then clipped her in the nose with a very large knee.  My daughter walked over to me, nose gushing blood and asked me to hand her the horse I had chased down and was now holding.  "Mom", she said (it sounded more like 'mob' with the stuffy bloody nose), "Mom, can you help me get back on?"  I hesitated for a minute before asking her to please wait until she stopped bleeding and we figured out whether or not her nose was broken.  I draw the line at blood, broken bones or altered mental status.  Once we found she was okay, she got back on the horse, immediately approached the jump she had missed so badly before and jumped it beautifully.

Someone very wise once said that falling down is part of life but getting back up is living.  I believe this is true but it sure would be nice if the falling was not so damn literal.  It's hard to watch Princess pose as a human cannonball at times but it does warm the cockles of my icy little heart to see her get back up, jaw tensed in determination, and turn the fall into a learning experience.  Go brat girl!

Life Lessons

One of the reasons I finally caved to my daughter's request for a horse was my belief that she would learn valuable life lessons.  Horses have certainly taught her responsibility.  For example, she quickly learned that after lessons on super hot days when she just wants to hide in an air conditioned room, guzzle Gatorade and text her friends, she must untack and cool out her horse first.  (Life lesson: Put others before yourself.) 

The daughter learned that horses will go lame right before a huge show she's been anticipating for months.  (Life lesson:  Life is not fair). She found out that her bargain basement horse, with tons of time spent in the saddle, can beat high dollar horses. (Life lesson:  Hard work does pay off....sometimes).  Tack left in the rain and ruined or tack lost does not mean an immediate trip to the tack store. (Life lesson:  Money does not grow on trees. Take care of what you have).  Just when you think you've "got it" and are the greatest rider ever, horses dump you on your ass.  (Life lesson: Develop a sense of humor and be humble). An unwarranted tap of the whip may also land you on your butt.  (Life lesson:  Don't be quick to correct others, strive for kindness and compassion).

My daughter learned that judging is just someone else's subjective opinion, there is no need to get terribly upset over a bad score.  (Life lesson: Accept constructive criticism gracefully).  When you go to a show, there will inevitably be one rider whose parents are willing to mortgage their home to buy their prince/princess an immaculately bred and well trained high dollar aka "packer"  horse.  (Life lesson: There will always be people with more money, better horses and more "stuff" and there will always be people younger, prettier and thinner.  Get over it and be happy with who you are.)  If your chosen discipline is eventing and your horse is afraid of jumping but is a dressage savant, you may need to reconsider your discipline or find a different horse.  (Life lesson:  Be flexible and find your passion in life).  Horses almost always prefer to lose a shoe or develop a limb dragging limp right before a show, generally at night, on a weekend or over a holiday.  (Life lesson: Treat others, i.e. farrier and vet, with respect.  Be there for others if you want them to be there for you.)

Perhaps the most valuable lesson in my opinion, is that eye rolling, growling, foot stomping, brush throwing, whining, yelling, cursing or acting like a total brat in any fashion, at home or away, will result in your little fanny being taken off the horse and/or withdrawn from a show or lesson plus no riding and extra chores for at least a week.  (Life lesson:  Act with civility in all situations or there will be real repercussions.  And DON'T mess with mom)!

First Things First

Here's the thing, I love my daughter and my daughter loves horses.  You would think that this would mean that I love horses too, but that ain't necessarily so.  Don't get me wrong, I love the beauty, strength and majesty of the animals. I love the smell of horses, clean leather tack and newly baled hay. I love hearing soft nickers when the rest of the barn is quiet and the touch of a velvety muzzle that inevitably leaves a trail of slime on a shirtsleeve.  These things are part of the world my daughter has chosen.

What I don't love is the loss of time.  Horses are a MAJOR time suck.  It takes time to groom them, time to ride them, time to haul them, train them, shoe them, show them...TIME.  I also don't love the expense.  I have to laugh every time I hear a would-be new horse owner complain about the cost of buying a horse.  The cost of BUYING the horse?  Sister, that is only the beginning of your pain.  Horses eat...a lot.  And they have to live somewhere.  Somewhere expensive.  Then there are vet bills, show fees, lessons, coaching fees, shoes, trims, tack, show clothes, trailering fees, treats, the equine chiropractor, the equine dentist, the masseuse, etc, etc, etc!  Our horse lives a better life than I do.

I ask myself every morning that I drag my tired butt out of bed at 3 a.m., heading to the barn to prepare for a show, "WHY?  Why do we do this to ourselves?"  My reason is pretty simple.  When my daughter was 2 years old she was watching a Grand Prix jumping competition on tv.  She was rapt, mouth slightly open, squealing in delight every single time a horse jumped.  Every single time.  Eyes glowing, she turned to me, clapped her hands and said "Me do dat."  It took her 4 years to talk me into it, but she was firm in her conviction that someday she would be on horseback, jumping impossible fences, flying.  Little did I know that her first lesson at age 6 would turn into a lifelong passion which would change the trajectory of our lives.