There comes a time in every child's life when they learn that much of what we've been telling them is a lie. There are indeed monsters everywhere, and they're not all fuzzy and blue and like cookies. They're not misunderstood green ogres, waiting to be drawn out by a talking donkey who will help the world see that they were wrong...that ogres are nice after all.
We want them to run, ride bikes, play outside with their friends - yet even though the sun is shining and everyone is laughing, it's there. It's always there.
We want them to run, ride bikes, play outside with their friends - yet even though the sun is shining and everyone is laughing, it's there. It's always there.
Where are these monsters? Everywhere. What do they look like? Us.
What is the correct balance between teaching them to recognize danger and creating a life for them based on suspicion? I've been told that I'm overprotective, almost irrational. I watch the news too much. I don't allow my daughter to walk home from the bus, or even down the block to visit a friend. I've made her nervous and fearful. I've taken some of the joy out of her childhood and replaced it with terror.
What is the correct balance between teaching them to recognize danger and creating a life for them based on suspicion? I've been told that I'm overprotective, almost irrational. I watch the news too much. I don't allow my daughter to walk home from the bus, or even down the block to visit a friend. I've made her nervous and fearful. I've taken some of the joy out of her childhood and replaced it with terror.
The sun is shining. There's sidewalks, tree lined streets, people walking their dogs. My neighborhood is quite idyllic. So when do I allow her to walk alone a few blocks in a lovely village, When she's older? All of her friends are already allowed. When she's a teenager? That time came, and passed.
So I let up. I let her walk two blocks to a friend's house.
And it didn't matter. The monsters drive. They follow you and ask you to help them find their lost puppy. She handled the situation well - just like we've always told her to. But now she's even more afraid...and so am I. When will it be okay? Will it ever be? What's going to happen when she's in college and I'm not a few minutes away? Will it be okay when she's grown?
There's a line from the book Beloved by Toni Morrison that seems to partially answer my question. "Grown don't mean nothing to a mother. A child is a child. They get bigger, older, but grown? What's that suppose to mean? In my heart it don't mean a thing."
When will it be okay? My heart says never, but my head says someday - because it will have to be. When will I be at peace with her going off places on her own?
For that answer I'm listening to my heart.
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I hear ya. A great blog about a very difficult decision. I'm schizophrenic sometimes, being over protective and then letting them do something that a rational person probably wouldn't let them do because I'm trying so hard not to be neurotic.
ReplyDeleteThanks Nina - I do the same thing - go between being neurotic in one way and then equally neurotic in the other! There's a show here - you may not get it in the UK, called "I Survived". Terrible tales of people who survived the unsurvivable...horrific stories of abduction, etc. I was so addicted to it that my family erased it off of the TIVO and told me I could no longer watch it. I guess you could say they grounded me.
ReplyDeleteWhat is the answer to this? I just don't know. I don't think anyone does.