The Push and Pull of Parenting

I have to fight the desire to keep my family in the house and by my side all the time. While the rational side of me knows that my children must be allowed to drive the car, socialize with their friends, and travel overseas, the irrational side of me keeps asking, “what if…?” That irrational side thinks that I must be near them or the horrible “what if” scenarios might come true.

It was wonderful to see my son after he returned from a three-week trip to France. I  missed him. I hadn’t worried much, but now that he was back, I was keenly aware of avoided peril.  After we got home from the airport, he came into my room, where I was reading, and sat down next to me. Soon, since he had been on a plane all day and was seven hours ahead of us, he fell asleep on me. My teenager hasn’t fallen asleep on me since he was a toddler, but there we were.

I didn’t wake him. I didn’t want to. I had been anticipating his return, but now I was even more aware of his vulnerability and frailty. For those few minutes, I wanted to keep him a sleeping child by my side forever. For a little while, I savored being his protector.

But it is an illusion. It is a beautiful illusion that fills me with a joy so powerful, I feel as though I may burst. Yet even as I am aware of my desire to wrap my child in my arms and hold him there forever, I know that doesn’t stop bad things from happening.  I know that I cannot protect him, even as he sleeps by my side. I know that pain and problems are inevitable – and important, and he will not be a fully mature person until he is able to cope with them.

And I don’t want to face that. I want to believe that I have the power to keep my sleeping child from ever confronting the many issues that would break our hearts. He is dreaming, and I am fighting my desire to take up residence in a dream world.

We can talk about resilience. We can extol the virtues of failure and freedom. Yet I would wager that every parent has consciously fought the overprotecting instinct. It is an important and difficult battle. My child may be driving the car, shopping for colleges, and shaving his chin, but I still want to believe that I am his barrier from all that might hurt him. I never have been. I never will be. But I want to be.

I fully understand why some parents call too often, do too much, and hover like the cliché helicopter.

That is the push and pull of parenting. I don’t want to back so far away that I become a distant figure. I don’t want to wrap him in layers of protection so that he can’t feel anything. I don’t want to smother and direct and therefore rob him of independence and agency.

Yet, I don’t want to feel the pain of his pain. Ultimately, I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to let either of us do anything that would separate us. Yet, we are separate. He will go to Europe. He will go to college. He will get in the car and drive away.

And I will be anxiously awaiting his return.