We had a free afternoon and the kids decided it was time for a board game. A board game where one of the participants would be yours truly. A board game where I needed to be guilted into playing, because, hey, I’ll be the first one to admit that I’m not exactly a Monopoly-and-Headbands type mom.

I’m all in when it comes to helping with homework or taxiing them around to after-school activities. I can even whip out some paints, glitter, glue, and washi tape and crank out a craft or two with my progeny. But, board games are not my thing.

With tireless “encouragement” from my two eager elementary school aged kids, I caved and decided to give it a shot. Of course, being a new game, one had to read the dreaded instructions. You know, the run-on sentences that make your head spin and your palms sweat a bit. Like they were prepping you launch a rocket ship and not a couple of dice.

I went step by step, reading the instructions carefully. We began to play a “trial” game, but the instructions just didn’t make any sense. I tried reading the manual with more pauses and more deliberation. It made no difference.

“You know, what, kids? The rules are dumb. Just make up your own game,” I said, quickly adding, “You both can be so creative with stuff.”

“Mama, you always give up so easily!” came the response. Goodness, who made these little people such accurate observers of personality? How did they manage to make such a precise assessment of my character?

It’s true. I’m not one to stick it out. I give it a shot–or two. And if something doesn’t work, I kind of let it be. I’m a firm subscriber to the notion: “If at first you don’t succeed, then you can find something better to do.” Especially instead of a board game that should clearly state that all four players should be rocket scientists.

Turns out, though, my lack of trying could have repercussions on how my kids deal with dead-ends or difficulties.

Read more at this Red Tricycle link