My wife and I have two beautiful little boys. That’s not the problem. Our little one (Will) recently turned two (That’s not the problem either.) Our eldest is Hunter and he’ll be ten next month. This is the problem. He’s coming in to his own now in some respects and there’s that internal tug-of-war over protecting him, but not being over protective. I use to think our job as parents was to keep them from killing themselves before they were 21 by doing something stupid, but have since realized this will be a life-long dilemma. If you have a son you’ll know what I’m talking about.
Here’s an example. Hunter has done exceptionally well in school. We’re blessed and couldn’t be more proud of him. He made Honor Role and is a straight A student. I ride a motorcycle (a Harley if you were wondering), and he loves going for rides with me, so I just bought him his own motorcycle last weekend. It’s a dirt bike and it’s used. I thought it made absolutely no sense to buy him a new bike knowing full well he was going to do all the stupid things I did when I got my first bike. I believe it’s a DNA thing with Dad’s and their boys. I often tell my son that before he even has a thought … even an inkling of something dumb he’s considering doing or saying … I’ve done it before and will know what he’s up to. This brings me back to the bike thing. The very first bike we went to see he wanted to try it. Knowing that this was something he had never done before, he did exactly what I expected him to do. He cranked open the throttle and went flying off the back. Because of my premonition of what was to come I already had a good grip on this shirt and was there to pluck him off the bike before he ended up wearing it.
So I bought him all the necessary safety gear in an attempt to encase him in a safety bubble, but I know all too well the risks involved in riding a motorcycle. There are only two kinds of riders. Those that have been down … And those who are going down. I feel it best to have him experience going down in the dirt on a trail, then on an interstate with six thousand pound vehicles whizzing by at 70 mph. So how do you let go and allow a child you love so deeply to experience things on their own that you know involves risk. Sure … I could have skipped the bike and this dilemma would be solved. But he’s playing contact football this year and there are risks (very real ones) associated with that!
I worry about him crossing the street, closing the car door on his hand (I recently closed my car door on my head … but we’ll leave that for another time), riding his bicycle or getting on the school bus. So when do you let go? How do you let go? Then how do you live with the consequences when something bad happens, regardless of how minor. When your child is in pain, it doesn’t matter if it’s a splinter or a splint. You hurt for them just the same.
oh, please, do tell me more about closing your head in the car door. Sounds just like something I’d do!