As my daughter Mia approached me after getting off the bus, I could see something was wrong. This usually vibrant 11-year-old walked slowly, her eyes glistening with tears. The new school year had begun, but like clockwork, her shyness made its unwelcome return, particularly in the lunchroom. This year, unfamiliar faces amplified her anxiety, turning what should be a simple meal into a source of stress. Mia wasn’t friendless; rather, she struggled to start conversations. Once the ice was broken, her delightful personality would emerge.
This year was especially challenging, as the social dynamics of preteen girls can be unforgiving. If you don’t fit the bubbly, girly stereotype, breaking into a fifth-grade clique can feel impossible. I remembered my own fifth-grade experiences—often shy and the new kid—feeling the same pangs of loneliness as Mia recounted her day.
My immediate reaction was to fix the situation. Who could I call? Who at the school might help her break through the social barriers? I didn’t want her to endure the same solitary lunches I had. But as these thoughts swirled in my mind, I recognized that intervening wasn’t the right approach. Yet, I couldn’t resist; I found myself reaching out to a friend who worked in the lunchroom, brainstorming ways to ease Mia’s discomfort.
In that moment, I understood I was engaging in what is now termed “lawn mower parenting.” Unlike the more familiar “helicopter parent” who hovers and micromanages, lawn mower parents clear obstacles from their children’s paths, creating a frictionless experience that leaves little room for growth.
I realized that if I was guilty of revving up the lawn mower, many parents likely were too. We have to stop this trend, as it ultimately does our children a disservice.
Life can be tough, especially during those early adolescent years. We all remember the awkwardness of middle school, from the braces to the first crushes and heartbreaks. We survived those times, and so will our kids. Yes, there will be tears, and we may want to confront that boy who hurt our daughter or question why our son didn’t study for that important test. We will witness them face failures and rejections, and we will wish we could shield them from such pain.
But here’s the truth: It’s not about us; it’s about them. Our children need to navigate challenges to develop resilience and empathy. They must experience embarrassment and discomfort to learn and grow. We can’t pave every road; instead, we should equip them with the tools to tackle life’s hurdles and allow them to stumble occasionally.
Falling isn’t the issue; it’s the ability to rise again that matters. If we smooth every path for our children, we risk raising entitled individuals who are unprepared for real-world challenges. So, let’s put away the lawn mowers and allow our kids to do the hard work of growing up. Instead of micromanaging their journeys, we should be present when they truly need us, supporting them through life’s lessons.
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In conclusion, while parenting is a daunting task, we must resist the urge to shield our children from all discomfort. By allowing them to face challenges, we prepare them for a future full of opportunities and growth.