Every parent knows this scenario: your child stands in front of you, maybe with arms crossed or those pleading eyes, announcing they're done with something. Guitar lessons, gymnastics, soccer, dance, ballet, swimming, that coding camp they insisted they needed just last month. In that moment, you're mentally scrambling between two equally terrifying possibilities: raising a kid who gives up the second things get hard, or becoming that parent who forces their child through misery in the name of "character building."
I hit this crossroads hard about three months into my child's karate journey, watching them fumble through what seemed like the most basic movement imaginable: jumping forward with both feet landing together. You know, kangaroo jumps.
The Humbling Reality of "Simple" Movements
Here's what makes this story even more ridiculous (in my head): I've been training in martial arts my entire life. From Jeet Kune Do to Muay Thai, I thought I had a pretty solid understanding of how bodies move and develop. But standing on the sidelines of that dojo, watching my kid attempt these jumps week after week, I realized I'd never actually considered how incredibly complex this "basic" skill really is.
While other kids bounced effortlessly across the mat like actual kangaroos, mine looked like they were doing some kind of interpretive dance version of jumping. One foot would go, then the other, then a stumble, then a recovery hop. It was creative, but it definitely wasn't what Sensei was demonstrating.
- Week three: still struggling.
- Week six: minimal improvement.
-Week eight: "Can we skip karate today?"
The Science Behind the Struggle
After way too many late-night deep dives into child development research (because that's what we do now as parents, right?), I learned that bilateral jumping – coordinating both sides of your body to move together – is actually a significant developmental milestone. According to the American Academy of Pediatrics, children typically master two-footed jumping anywhere between ages 2 and 5, with most kids getting the hang of it around age 3-4¹. But some children need more time to develop the core strength, spatial awareness, and bilateral coordination required.
The research from developmental pediatrics shows that gross motor skills develop on a wide spectrum, and struggling with specific movements doesn't indicate any broader issues with physical development². Sometimes kids just need more practice, different approaches, or simply more time for their nervous systems to mature.
Who knew I'd be citing medical journals about my kid's karate progress?
Recognizing When to Stay the Course
The struggle is isolated, not overwhelming
My child absolutely loved the kick combinations and punches... those felt exciting and "karate-like." They were improving with stances, enjoyed the other kids, and generally looked forward to class. The kangaroo jumps were frustrating, but they weren't ruining everything else.
You can see incremental progress
Even when the jumps looked rough, I started noticing tiny improvements that might not be obvious to casual observers. Better balance on landing one week, managing to get both feet off the ground simultaneously the next. Small wins that showed effort was paying off.
They're developing problem-solving skills
Instead of just melting down, my kid started asking the instructor questions, requesting extra help, and even attempting to practice at home (though living room kangaroo jumps are definitely not recommended for furniture safety).
The benefits spill over into other areas
I noticed improved focus during homework, better listening skills when instructions were given, and honestly, more patience when things didn't go perfectly in other situations.
Red Flags That Suggest It's Time to Reconsider
The challenge is consuming all the joy.
If your child can't access any positive aspects of the activity because they're completely focused on what they can't do, that's different from productive struggle.
Anxiety or distress is escalating rather than decreasing.
Some frustration is normal and even helpful. Coming home defeated and anxious every single session is not sustainable for anyone.
Complete disengagement has set in.
There's a difference between working through something difficult and just going through the motions. If they've mentally checked out entirely, you're not building perseverance anymore.
You're more invested in their success than they are.
This one stings to admit, but sometimes our own hopes for our children's achievements can overshadow what they actually want or need.
Practical Strategies That Actually Worked
Breaking skills down into micro-steps. We started celebrating jumping in place with feet together, then tiny forward hops, then sticking the landing regardless of distance. Each small success built confidence for the next challenge.
Making practice playful at home. Kangaroo jumps became living room obstacle courses, jumping between couch cushions, and pretending to be different animals. When it's fun, kids don't realize they're practicing.
Focusing on effort and strategy over results. I started praising things like "I noticed you tried that five times" or "You asked for help when you needed it" instead of only celebrating successful jumps.
Communicating with instructors. Turns out, this struggle is incredibly common, and experienced instructors have modifications and alternative approaches I didn't know existed. Sometimes the solution is just asking for help.
Where We Are Now
Eight months later, something remarkable happened. My kid didn't just figure out kangaroo jumps... they completely mastered them. Now they're experimenting with jumping higher and farther, landing those two-footed jumps with the confidence of someone who's conquered their personal Mount Everest.
Their newfound belief in their jumping abilities has them wanting to test their skills everywhere: playground equipment, curbs, couch cushions. I keep things safe, but mostly I just let them explore what their body can do. Watching them discover their own physical capabilities has been one of the most rewarding parts of this whole journey.
The Real Learning Curve
As someone who's spent decades training in martial arts, I never expected my child's beginner karate class to teach me as much as it has. All my years of training focused on technique, power, and advanced combinations. But watching my kid work through basic coordination challenges taught me about patience, developmental timelines, and what beginner's mind actually means. Sometimes the most profound lessons come from the simplest struggles.
Finding Your Family's Balance
The question isn't really whether your kid should quit or continue. It's about understanding what you're both trying to achieve and whether the current path is serving those goals.
Questions that helped me navigate this decision:
• Is my child learning to cope with difficulty, or are they shutting down?
• Are the benefits worth the struggle for them, not just for me?
• What would I want if I were struggling with something challenging?
• Is this building confidence over time, or eroding it?
Every family's situation is different, and there's no universal formula for when to encourage persistence versus when to try something new. But there's something valuable in helping our kids learn that being bad at something initially doesn't mean they should quit...
It means they're learning.
Sometimes the most important lesson isn't about becoming immediately good at everything. It's about sticking with something long enough to discover whether it's worth getting good at, and building the confidence that comes from working through challenges.
Join the BUBS Community
What activities have challenged your kids in unexpected ways? How do you decide when to encourage persistence vs. when to explore other options? Share your experiences in the comments – we're all figuring this out together on BUBS, where parent wisdom meets practical support.
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