Yes, yes, you read that right—I’m not a helicopter mom.
I believe that kids should be kids—they need to learn how to fall and get back up. Don’t worry, I always make sure there’s no real danger to avoid serious injuries or something even worse.
So yes, I let my daughter climb everywhere, and I let her fall, too. I comfort her if she cries, and then I let her try again. I don’t know if there’s a direct connection, but my daughter rarely cries when she falls.
I get the impression that, over time, parents are becoming more and more fearful.
At the park the other day, a mother kept yelling at her son to stop climbing up the slide. She said she was afraid he’d get hurt. Aside from landing on the foam mat beneath the slide and maybe getting a little scare, I don’t think he would have gotten hurt—unless he was really unlucky.
Back in my day, we’d jump off the seesaws and play hide-and-seek in the woods after dark; we’d shoot pellet guns at targets we’d made ourselves, and we’d ride snowmobiles and ATVs without even being old enough to drive anything. We built igloos in the snow, raced down snowy slopes on three skis, and skated on half-frozen lakes.
Okay, I’ll admit it—it might have been dangerous, but our parents kept an eye on us from a distance, and we made the most of life. Why stop a child from going to play at the park, sliding down the playground equipment, running all over the place, and getting a few scrapes? The scars on my arms and legs prove that I’ve taken quite a few tumbles—and more than once. I always got back up. I’m still alive today.
Let kids be kids. Let them fall (on the ground, of course)—it builds character: I promise you they’ll thank you for it one day.
I know it’s hard sometimes to let go, but you’ll be much more relaxed when it’s time to let your kids play.