Not into equestrian sports.
Horse girls.
Along this equestrian journey, my children and I have gradually created a kind of common language for ourselves: sentences that I repeat so often that my daughters probably hear them in their sleep.
Some of these sentences started from the rules of the stable.
Others came from the tough rides, long days, and moments when one of the kids was crying in the mane of a pony.
And the more time I spend with the horse girls, the more I realize this common language is not just for my daughters or our little home stable.
These are lessons that horses have raised various generations of children with long before my own.
Lesson number 1: Horse kids help.
You don't pass by an empty water bucket indifferently.
When you have two free hands, you don't just stand and watch someone struggle to move something.
You hold the pony.
You sweep the aisle of the stable.
You hold the door.
I see one of my younger daughters struggling to carry her saddle, and her sister immediately comes to help.
I see my middle daughter helping the younger ones guide their pony to the riding arena, without letting it go for the grass.
All of this happens without me saying anything.
It's these moments that make me feel proud.
We help because we can.
And because it's the right thing to do.
Lesson number 2: Horse kids are strong.
Not in the sense that they never cry; my horse girls cry plenty.
They are strong because they learn that being scared and still doing something can coexist in the same moment.
They have frustrating rides.
They fall off the horse and feel pain.
I've seen my daughters cry, wipe their faces with dusty sleeves, and get back on.
Their hands tremble and they are unsure, but they keep going.
And of course, this doesn't mean ignoring fear when things are unsafe: part of being equestrian is learning the difference between fear that warns you of something important and fear you can overcome.
All these feelings are part of the journey.
Feeling embarrassed; cheeks flushing when everything goes wrong in the competition ring.
Getting angry at themselves too.
But they learn that it's okay to feel down and then find courage and try again.
Lesson number 3: Horse kids come back tomorrow.
This image is presented in collaboration with Jamie Sindel.
The pony had bucked.
It had refused a jump.
It had bolted from a mythical creature in the arena.
It seemed like nothing had gone right.
But we don't give up something we love just because today was hard.
After a particularly tough day, I told my daughters: "Some rides are going to be hard.
But often the next day gets better.
This is something horse kids know well."
Horses don't give much room for instant gratification.
Progress comes bit by bit; sometimes so slowly that we don't even notice it happening.
But a hard ride doesn't necessarily mean you are regressing.
Lesson number 4: Horse kids don't say "I can't."
This is probably the point that gets the most eye rolls around here.
A sample conversation: "You can say 'I can't do it.'
You can say 'I'm scared.'
You can say 'I need help.'
But don't tell me you can't."
My daughter calls me from her pony: "Mom, it's impossible.
I can't jump over that vertical jump."
I encourage her: "I never ask you to do something that I don't think you're ready for.
I know you can do it."
And then my daughter passes over that small jump with a soft canter, completely flawlessly; with a big smile on her face and a confidence blooming within her.
I also cheer and clap, saying: "See?
I told you!"
Horses interestingly teach kids what many things they can do; the same things they once believed they couldn't handle.
Lesson number 5: Horse kids prioritize their horses.
Before you eat, make sure your horse has eaten.
Before you sit comfortably, make sure your horse is settled and calm for the night.
After a long day at a competition, when all you want is to get to bed, you still have to take off the saddle and gear from your horse, cool its body down, give it water, bandage its legs if necessary, and calmly prepare it for a restful night.
Even when you’re exhausted after a long week of school and your pony still needs you, you show up.
Even if it's just a short bareback ride at sunset, you still make it to the stable.
My older daughter has two jobs, comes home sweaty and tired, and still has to ride her horse and do our farm chores.
This expectation has been set from the beginning.
After all, she is a horse kid.
And perhaps the hardest lesson my children have had to learn is that sometimes prioritizing the horse means letting it go.
Sometimes loving a horse means accepting the reality that you are not home, a rider, or in the right conditions for the partner you love.
Sometimes it means making a decision that breaks your heart.
Horses teach kids that loving something means taking care of it, even when it’s not easy and hassle-free.
And sometimes it means doing what’s best for them, even when it’s deeply painful.
Lesson number 6: Horse kids get dirty.
We totally understand how you feel, little one.
Really dirty.
They find hay in their hair, there’s horse drool on their shirts, their boots are muddy, and about two minutes after putting on breeches, something unidentified has also smeared on them.
They know horse manure isn’t going to kill them; it just makes them smell bad.
Carrying a bucket of water that spills while walking, washing a water trough, or cleaning a box isn’t going to hurt them either.
There’s something I love about raising girls who aren’t afraid of getting their clothes dirty, breaking a nail, sweating, or working until their arms ache.
I want them to know they can handle hard work.
***** Just a few days ago, my seven-year-old daughter said she wants to help me with the stable chores because "horse girls do that."
Maybe they are finally listening.
I don’t know what place horses will have in my daughters’ lives as they grow up.
Maybe they will still ride every day.
Maybe horses will become something they only seek out occasionally.
Perhaps one day they will completely distance themselves from it, and when they pass by a pasture, a vague feeling of nostalgia will come over them.
Of course, the horse-loving part of my being hopes that this never happens.
But I know well that raising horse girls has never just meant raising "girls who ride horses" or "girls who win ribbons."
This story has always been about raising kids who know how to love something deeply; to work, to help, to endure, to care for something other than themselves, and yes, to get a little dirty along the way.
Source: Horse Network