About 50 adults squeezed into a conference room for advice on sending our children to college. I was expecting revolutionary ideas that hadn't yet been revealed on this parenting journey, tips that are reserved only for the moms and dads of 18-year-olds.
In fact, I heard variations of the exact words I tell my new middle-school parents at the beginning of each academic year.
Let your child make mistakes and learn from them. Encourage your child to advocate for herself. Insist that your child solve his own problems.
If teachers are asking parents to do this with 11-year-olds, why do colleges need to do the same with parents of young adults? Because it's not easy.
Though I try not to be a helicopter mom (constantly hovering and swooping) or a lawnmower mom (eliminating obstacles on behalf of my children), I'm also not a permissive parent (yes to everything!) or a free-range parent (good luck out there, little one!). Actually, I'm guilty of — and sometimes even proud of — a few characteristics of all those styles.
Summer offers excellent conditions for testing new parenting techniques. Lazier days with fewer commitments mean more freedom. My Katie and Adam, our neighbor and honorary third sibling, spend hours each week outside. As they've grown older, they've started living a little more like 1970s children — running into one house or the other for water or supplies but otherwise playing outside until dusk beckons or a parent hollers, "Dinner!"
It's the way I grew up. When I was 4, 5 and 6, I was part of a gentle gang of North Dallas kids who would gather in the middle of the street, discuss possible adventures and then set out. We'd climb trees, explore trails and fish crawdads out of Joe's Creek — all without a single supervising adult.
A few years later, my sister and I would roam the streets of tiny Belton, Texas. We'd walk a couple of blocks south to spend 27 cents on a small Slurpee or, if we had saved our money for a few days, $1.07 to buy a drumstick and biscuit from Golden Fried Chicken. Or we'd wander farther north to peruse the aisles of TG&Y and the Hallmark store. There were pay phones if we needed them, but no one expected us to check in.
All of that freedom created natural opportunities for building consensus, solving problems, settling disputes and figuring out basic first aid.
Yet we 21st-century parents are often paralyzed by fear. What if someone makes a bad decision? Gets their feelings hurt? Feels left out? Gets lost? Gets injured?
When is it appropriate to let go and allow your child to experience the inevitable disappointments — and inherent lessons — of life?
Earlier this summer, Katie rushed into the house, seeking duct tape and bungee cord. She dragged our rusty red wagon from the front porch to the alley. I was suspicious. She told me not to worry.
I, no doubt, worried.
Upon further investigation, I discovered that she and Adam had used the tape and cord to attach the wagon to the back of his bike. She would sit in the wagon while he pedaled. As he turned, she also turned, but without control or grace.
I held my breath and closed my eyes as they careened through the alley. She tumbled out a couple of times. I eventually insisted that they stop.
Her left leg still shows scars from the concrete, and I can't get the image out of my head, but it's one of their favorite memories of summer so far.
I try every day to make the right decisions for my kids — or, better, to let them make their own. I'm working on not rescuing Cooper in the mornings, when he sleeps through his alarm but needs to get dressed for work. (I'm mostly failing.) I've encouraged them both to cook more often and experiment in the kitchen. (Katie's a pro with the toaster oven and George Foreman Grill, and Cooper can bake some tasty chicken.) I don't swoop in to finish their chores. (Even if that means the sink fills with dishes. I take lots of deep breaths.)
When school starts this August, I'll once again advise my students' parents to step back as often as they're comfortable — while trying to trust my own two kids to rely on the foundation we've built together.
Tyra Damm is a Briefing columnist. She can be reached at tyradamm@gmail.com.
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| Bike. Wagon. Duct tape. Bungee cord. What could go wrong? |
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