Do you cling to your children?
I'll admit it: I have separation anxiety. I hate to be separated from my children. And to combat my fears, I tend to be overprotective.
When I hired a babysitter for my baby I left her detailed instructions as to food, schedule and nap time. When I returned to pick up the baby, I asked her detailed questions about how the day went.
When I drove my preschooler to nursery, I walked her right up to the classroom door. I took advantage of every opportunity to query the teacher about my child's progress, both academic and social.
When my child was old enough to go on a school bus, she had to beg me to leave her at the bus stop and not stand there amidst all the other children. Instead, I watched from the window until the bus was out of sight.
Gradually, with time and experience, I relaxed my hold on the children. They went to sleep-away camp in the summers (after I took them to the bus and, sitting in my car, watched it drive away) and to friends during the year.
I even taught them how to drive. But the day they received their driver's license they celebrated and I cried.
Their time at home gradually shortened, until the day came when they left home for good. I celebrated with them, crying with bittersweet tears.
Now I invite my children to visit with their families and try to keep the invitation as casual as possible: No guilt if you can't come; I just want you to know that you're welcome any time.
We've raised our children to be self-reliant. Now who will teach me that skill?
When I hired a babysitter for my baby I left her detailed instructions as to food, schedule and nap time. When I returned to pick up the baby, I asked her detailed questions about how the day went.
When I drove my preschooler to nursery, I walked her right up to the classroom door. I took advantage of every opportunity to query the teacher about my child's progress, both academic and social.
When my child was old enough to go on a school bus, she had to beg me to leave her at the bus stop and not stand there amidst all the other children. Instead, I watched from the window until the bus was out of sight.
Gradually, with time and experience, I relaxed my hold on the children. They went to sleep-away camp in the summers (after I took them to the bus and, sitting in my car, watched it drive away) and to friends during the year.
I even taught them how to drive. But the day they received their driver's license they celebrated and I cried.
Their time at home gradually shortened, until the day came when they left home for good. I celebrated with them, crying with bittersweet tears.
Now I invite my children to visit with their families and try to keep the invitation as casual as possible: No guilt if you can't come; I just want you to know that you're welcome any time.
We've raised our children to be self-reliant. Now who will teach me that skill?
posted by Dr. Spiegel at
7:16 PM
2 Comments:
i don't think there's anything wrong with the behavior described by this mother. i think it shows a caring mother who is there for her children, not trying to escape from her duties, or trusting strangers with her most precious privilege. those children are blessed and will never feel neglected, and even if they are embarrassed as teenagers, they will appreciate it all when they look back.
By
Anonymous, at Thursday, December 25, 2008
I felt very unprotected by my mother so my inclination as a mother is to be very protective of them. I love how this mother was able get balance and pull back with maturity when it was appropriate. That is a great accomplishment in overcoming her fears. I hope I'll be able to that when the time comes.
By
Anonymous, at Thursday, January 01, 2009
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