I write a lot about pushing my kids—about when to step back and let them do things for themselves.
That’s because I am either pushing them, feel like I should push them, wonder if I should have pushed them, or regret pushing them. It’s dizzying, I know.
This is one of the worst parts of parenting. Should I give in and make things easier for my child or should I push him past his comfort zone? I must decide. And I don’t often have a lot of time in these situations. In the moment, I just want to help him. When do I stop “helping”?
I have to make these decisions too often.
It hurts me. It doesn’t always work. I feel like a horrible mother.
Sometimes, though, it hurts me, it does work, and I feel like a horrible mother.
A horrible mother who did some minor thing right. This time. Some minor thing that may or may not help my child in the future.
I was struggling to write this post when I found something online. I remember seeing this but I had forgotten how powerful it was. I cannot bring enough words together in the right way to describe this. Everything I would have said, could possibly have written, to help you understand, is in this clip.
And so, I will go and leave you to watch this poignant performance.