I wish I could stop fussing over my son, but I can’t. Between the shhhing and the how-are-you-feelings and the can-I-get-you-somethings, I am aware that I am fawning over my only child. And it isn’t good for him.
It is a lesson that needs frequent reinforcing. During one of his Cub Scout meetings, Connor was etching leaves with the other children. When it was time to move on to the next activity, Connor was still working on his etchings, so I prompted him to put his crayon down. He did so, but was clearly mortified that his mother had stepped in to correct him. I happened to glance up to see the Den Leader’s wife, who was also a parent educator, shake her head sadly. It wasn’t’ my job to correct my child. It was the Den Leader’s. And it probably wasn’t a big deal anyway if he kept on working. He was enjoying himself.
My husband and I both work hard to not fuss over Connor. We sit on our hands to keep from interfering. Steve, my husband, now goes to Scout meetings because I know I won’t be able to control myself from prompting him.
And yet, I have my moments where I get it. I let Connor figure things out on his own, and his pride at his own achievement gives me the courage to let him do more.
