A few years back, I called home on my return from a business trip. My husband laughingly asked me to talk to my middle son
about advice he received from his 5 year old sister. His voice had no
laughter in it as he indignantly shared, “She told me solve my own
problems!” And then he added for the benefit of everyone in earshot of
the phone, “She heard that from mom!!”
As I hung
up, I thought about that advice, which I know I give on a relatively
frequent basis. I love to help out my kids (and just about anyone else
who will let me, if I am completely candid). I am a fixer. In fact,
nothing makes me happier than solving something for someone. And my
kids, pictured here at my daughter’s 5th birthday party, are dearer to me than anyone on the planet.
When we were living in Luxembourg, my elder son had his phone and wallet stolen. I could see he felt violated, frustrated and a more than a little heart broken. We discussed how he would need to either replace or get by without the stolen items for a period. I had a truly sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that I could not make this right for him. I was so sorely tempted to just say I would buy everything for him again.
But I knew
this was a valuable life lesson I should not deprive him of because of
my need to fix stuff. He had not been as careful as he should have been
with valuable property. Part of me hated he had to lose his innocence
and trust so early. But another part was glad the lesson came in a
reasonably, manageable package.
I found life can be hard and often bumpy.
Often I needed to rely on myself and problem-solve my way out of tough
situations – some of my own making. I want my children to have that
capacity as well. I will not always be there for them which is a
painful realization. A very challenging part of my job is teaching them
to take care of themselves and letting them learn some things through
experience. I find it much less satisfying as a mother, at least in the
moment, but frankly more important for my kids. My role is to prepare them for the rest of their lives. My teenager is on the brink which is a bittersweet reminder for me most days.
. He responded with uncharacteristic seriousness and said, “Thanks for supporting me.
A version of this post previously published on my blog Mom, Mayhem Missions and More on Working Mother.
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