RR’s middle name is not Grace – both literally and figuratively. She is finally working out all of the physical coordination that goes into being a kid – the climbing, the running, the escaping our clutches in favor of danger! danger! She’s free-range. Cage-free, if you will. At 100 miles an hour. With not enough sense…yet.
Whereas I understand that this is all well and good with growing up, and we keep the first aid kit on hand for every tumble down the concrete path she takes, I’m finding that my patience as a parent to watch her struggle and learn and fall and get back up (bloodied, scraped, bruised) is very thin. This leads me to literally hovering over her at a playground, while she says, “I got it!” over and over, making her way up and down the stairs.
My wife and I have different philosophies. I am of the, “no standing on the couch.” and she is of the, “the BEST way to get on the couch so that you can stand up is to put your foot here… then push… now, here’s how to get onto the back so that you can see out the window…” So instead of actively holding her back, I hover, or more likely when my wife is on duty helping her learn, I look away. Like it’s a car accident waiting to happen.
Her most impressive wounds haven’t happened on our watch, but the watch of her daytime providers. We’re doing a good job. Rather, my wife is doing a great job, and I’m nervously biting my lip from the sidelines.
She’s gaining confidence, though. Strength. Balance. I’m gaining trust, patience, and the understanding that her development trumps my nervous Nellies. Parenting lesson number… oh, I don’t know… 1,453?
Posted by the Oven on November 29, 2011 at 2:39 pm
this post makes me smile
Posted by CJ on December 1, 2011 at 2:24 pm
That is so us…only in reverse! I’m the “if she falls off the couch, she’ll figure out to NOT do that again!” Ash is the one standing RIGHT THERE to catch her if she falls! I just like to think of it as balanced parenting!
Posted by Too Much Energy and Not Enough Sense « Counting Chickens on December 4, 2011 at 5:10 pm
[...] And as D so aptly summarized, our very different parental coping skills have led to greater examination of our own boundaries. I want to show RR how to summit the couch, the fun of running across the street, and which of the low branches of our smallish tree to grasp. I want her to get to the top of the slide and come zipping down. I don’t want her to bleed or get a concussion or otherwise get maimed on my watch. [...]