Journey of independence

Last night I read a Facebook post from a very nervous new mom whose preemie has learned to roll over and sleep on her tummy. Mother is so worried and probably didn't sleep a wink all night. I know that feeling. I don't think I slept a full night all through my kids' childhoods. I would drink a full glass of water before bed so that I would wake up during the night to make sure my babies were breathing and their toes were tucked in. When they were seven and ten, I was still downing that last glass of water after the late news.

There is a fine balance between letting go and hanging on. Looking back, I think I held too tightly to my children, but I wasn't nearly as controlling as my mother who continued to have an influence in our lives as the children grew up. She was a nervous Nellie who always feared the worst would happen. She thought prevention was better than cure therefore, she and I both limited opportunities for our kids.

Many years ago, my best friend's sixteen year old daughter was a summer nanny for a wealthy couple who took her with them to Europe on their vacation. My big concern at that time was whether or not to allow my sixteen year old daughter to go to the mall unattended. I would never have considered allowing my kids to be so far away.

My mothering was somewhere between protective and overprotective. I wonder if my actions helped or hindered them.

Hubby says he raised his kids with this comment: "I trust you'll do the right thing." My comments were lengthy and detailed and ended with, "You'd BETTER do the right thing." His two daughters and my daughter and son all tested their limits and as adults, now admit to doing things we would have sworn they didn't. Which parenting style was best is hard to say. They all survived and we did too.

This morning when the alarm blared at 5:00 a.m. hubby and I rushed through our morning routine and out the door with camera in hand. The robin who built her nest on our carport flew away, leaving her four fledglings exposed to the elements
(45 degrees and drizzling). Their little heads popped up and their mouths opened wide in a beg. My mother instincts kicked in and I wanted to rush to our garden and help her dig up a worm so she could quickly return to her nest.

In the stillness of the early morning, just as the sky was lightening, I was reminded of all the times my kids begged and I responded with an automatic mother-NO. Not to food, heaven knows they fed half the neighborhood kids the way this mother bird feeds her young. But I do believe I said no too often.

As we pulled into the school parking lot we saw two charter buses idling and a hundred or more sixth and seventh graders bustling about, girls (and boys) clutching teddy bears and pillows, Game Boys and I pods. I looked at the parents mingling on the sidelines snapping photos as their children stashed their luggage in the belly of the buses and climbed those steps on a journey toward independence. Granddaughter number three is headed to Space Camp in Huntsville, Alabama for a week. We've never seen her smile as broad as she did this morning. Two weeks ago she was one dissapointed little girl. The trip had been cancelled due to tornado damage down south. Now she is on her way. We sent her off with a hug and a prayer.

As we drove away, I heard a whisper from my past, "That bus could crash, or a tornado could rip through again, she's too far away for you to help if something happens..." I then heard another voice, "She'll be fine, I have her in My hands."