We were excited to take Boo Boo, in particular, because he loves animals, he loves cowboys and he loves watching bull-riding on ESPN. One of Dear Husband's colleagues had told him about Mutton Bustin', and we thought Boo Boo would love that, too.
For those of you less enlightened, Mutton Bustin' is like bull-riding for kids. You put helmets and kevlar vests on them, have them hug a sheep's back, and they ride the sheep to the other end of the corral. (The kids have to be a certain height and weight, of course, and parents have to sign a release form.)
Our experience Mutton Bustin' -- or lack thereof -- taught me many lessons that day.
Lesson #1: Boo Boo is actually afraid of some things.
Before this experience, I had chalked up Boo Boo to be virtually fearless. He thinks nothing of climbing to any height, has not had one nightmare, and has never been afraid of a "monster" in his closet. But once he saw a kid slide off of a running sheep he refused to ride himself. (Not that I blame him.)
Lesson #2: Some moments are better to be experienced than photographed.
In my grand Mutton Bustin' plans that morning, I had packed the newly charged camera and video camera in order to capture the experience that day. I was prepped like a paparazzi. When we got to the Mutton Bustin' arena I realized that I had forgotten both cameras and had no way of recording the event. Needless to say, I was BESIDE myself. (Luckily, we made friends with the nice family next to us, and they just emailed us these photos.)
As I fought back the tears and curses, I watched the other parents snapping away at their children and realized that I would actually be able to watch my son with my own eyes -- not through a camera lens or a screen. I would be able to enjoy the day without worrying about how many shots I had left, whether my kids would smile for me at the right time, or how low the battery was. Frankly, sometimes I DO feel like my kids' personal press corps (especially with the blog), feeling like I have to capture every single "special" moment of their lives on film. But I don't. And not doing so was actually kind of a relief.
Lesson #3: I am WAY too competitive.
When Boo Boo told Dear Husband that he didn't want to ride the sheep, I had to step in. "Let me give this a try," I told DH, as I switched kids with him. For some reason, I thought that I could change BB's mind somehow; I tried every strategy I could to talk him into it. ("Are you SURE you don't want to? Not even a little bit? Don't you want to hug that sheep? Isn't he nice and soft?") He kept saying no. It was when I saw another mother yelling at her son until he cried that I realized what I was doing. I was on the slippery slope of becoming a pushy stage mom -- the Jon Benet Ramsey rodeo version. I wanted this to happen so much myself that I wasn't respecting Boo Boo's wishes or free will. Praise God, I backed down, gave up and enjoyed watching everyone else's children get smeared by sheep.
Of course later that day -- and about once a week since -- Boo Boo has exclaimed out of the blue, "Mama, I want to ride a sheep!" Oh, well. Maybe next rodeo?
1 comment:
What fun....the Oettel kids would have been into the crazy sheep rides!
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