“The boat is safer anchored at the port; but that’s not the aim of boats.”
— Paulo Coelho
Being a parent means learning of strengths you didn’t know you had, and dealing with stress you didn’t know existed.
I knew from the moment I was becoming a mother that I had a propensity to be a helicopter parent. I am a cautious human.
Risky business
Risk taking is not in my nature and most things, if you ask me, seem risky.
I naturally wanted to ensconce my children in protective bubbles so that no emotional or physical bumps, bruises, or harm could ever come to them. That could work if I was raising children who were destined to remain children forever.
We are, God willing, raising future adults who will one day have to interact with the world at large and be happy, healthy and functioning citizens of the world. The world will not cosset or change for our children.
I do not come by this letting go naturally. I have trained myself to be the “go, be, do!” parent.
I steeled myself to be firm (with myself) in letting our children grow and spread their wings.
Fly
There are so many bird metaphors in parenting. Mama bird. Baby bird. Pushing them out of the nest. The empty nest. I don’t know why something as unpredictable and fragile as birds are the model here.
I would prefer to adopt the terminology as it relates to “Baby Tortoise.” I imagine they move slowly in all their milestones and live for like 150 years, right?
I am a “sure thing” kind of person and that has led me to a pretty good life. Still, as I look back, I wonder and watch and admittedly am proud to have raised humans who do and dare.
From the first “I can do it!” of toddlerhood to the “See ya in a week mom!” of camp or vacation without us, we nudged our birds a little further on their journey.
I started early, packing BoyWonder off with sunscreen (that he would never use) and prayer (that we hoped he would). We let him roam the woods or spend hours in the barn.
He made things — and messes — with sharp tools and a sharper imagination.
We packed him off to camp many times. Each time I felt like I sent a slightly older boy, but in my heart, I still saw him as 3 years old.
Still, I pasted on a brave smile and waved merrily. “You’ll love it!” I said, while thinking and if you don’t, it will make you stronger!
Stronger won out. He came back an Eagle Scout.
Boats
Our children have, quite notably, grown up leaping off boats. Dark water. Deep water. Waves. They don’t hesitate.
In this, I have raised fish but some sort of fearless, flying type of fish. I am a hypocrite in that I, the biggest sissy in the world, have worked tirelessly on my own fears to ensure that our children are essentially fearless.
Careful and smart, certainly, but also not afraid to make a figurative — or literal — leap.
They run, jump, and leap off the back of boats like it’s second nature. They tube and ski and often joyously let go of the rope.
Dale Carnegie said, “The man who goes farthest is generally the one who is willing to do and dare. The sure thing boat never gets far from shore.”
I am a “sure thing” kind of boat. I proudly raised children who are not content to hug the shore.
Recently BoyWonder came home and announced that he would be going to Australia for three weeks completely alone, traveling and staying in youth hostels (I picture a flop house, but with a check in policy?). As you do.
For a split second, my heart was in my stomach. Why couldn’t he just go to Daytona Beach like anyone else?
Then I remembered, we raised him to make the leap. His is the boat that leaves the shore.
I think the best thing we can do for our young adults is to allow them to believe in themselves. Allow them to be strong and to experience life on their own terms. To this, I believe that while you are young and presumably unfettered with marriage, mortgages, offspring or just a host of houseplants to water, you should travel.
Take the time to see the world. Taste the fullness of life. As parents, we spend every waking moment watching over our children and then one day, they don’t need you anymore. In that time you re-left hoping you taught them enough to do it on their own.
“Healthy Birds Fly” is a mantra I have used to remind myself of the end goal of parenting. Particularly when our birds fly international.
