Helicopter parenting at it's finest

Y’all, let me first apologize in advance if we have a play date anywhere where my children could potentially get hurt because I’m a self admitted helicopter parent. Maybe it was giving CPR to Sloane three years ago or maybe it’s just who I am, but I audibly gasp when Sloane bikes, swings, runs, dodges branches, or pretty much does anything that could hurt her. I say this with laughter but let me paint you a picture and then you can decide if my behavior is totally normal or if I'm a little crazy. 

SO excited for Disney World!!! 

Last October we took the kids to Disney World with Jay's parents. Of course we had our fast passes booked for Space Mountain because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you go to Disney World.  Jay, Jay's dad, Graham, and myself headed to the ride while Jay's mom took Sloane to the smaller roller coasters.   We made it through the line fairly quickly and Graham and myself ended up in the first car together, separated by the seats, arms distance apart.  The car takes off and, for those that don't know Space Mountain, it's a roller coaster in pitch black and you have no idea what turn is next.  Clearly, I didn't remember this ride from my childhood and in this moment, I'm thinking, Dear Heaven save us now!!! So I do the only thing that any mom would do, I LITERALLY reach over the shoulder rests and hold Graham down by the shoulders as tight as I possible can, SCREAMING it's ok buddy it's ok, I have you!!  First, did I really think I could hold his body in the car if the straps or bar were loose?  Second, he was measured for the ride and there have been millions of children his size that have been perfectly fine.  In my madness, I'm scaring the bejesus out of him even more. As the ride pulls up to the station the poor child gets off shaking and in tears from the absolute horror that just happened.  Walking out I don't know who left the ride more scarred, me due to the vision of his small body flying through the air or him because his mom was screaming at the top of her lungs clutching him trying to control a ROLLER COASTER.  Meanwhile my husband was more perplexed at what happened then ever before.  While walking to meet the rest of our family and replaying what in the world just transpired, I started to wonder what happened to the girl who used to LOVE roller coasters.  Life happened, fear took over, and it was slowly destroying everything in my wake.  My fear of the "what if's" traumatized my five year old at Disney world!!  If that isn’t a come to Jesus moment I don’t know what is.

After this spectacle, I tried to process how I was parenting my children and I started to realize I wasn't empowering them to be brave, instead I was making them scared because I was scared.  I wasn't allowing them to fail when I was protecting their every move in hopes of preventing pain.  I wasn't allowing them to learn through failure, through brokenness, through sadness, through character building moments,  that those are the moments that end up defining us.  It's hard to write these words knowing that for the first few years of Sloane's life we were surviving and not thriving.  Of course we had no choice, but what I don't want is to create timid children afraid to tackle hard things in life.  Fearful of failure, fearful of having their hearts broken, and fearful of life because of my own anxieties and fears of the unknown and that's when I decided to make a choice, a daily choice to not let fear rule my life. 

Through processing all of this and intentional efforts, and I say intentional because is NOT normal for me not to want to protect my kids.  It doesn't feel right when I let them fall and scrape their knees because I'm their mom and my job is to keep them safe.  However, it it's also my job to help them get back up again when they fall.  If I don't empower them to do so, who will? So, while I still gasp, I let them fall, I let them fail, and I let Sloane stand up to other kids and proudly state why she has to wear an eye patch for 8 hours a day or why her eyes look funny when all I want to do is jump in and protect her.   As I continue to push forward in these unnatural feelings, guess what I'm starting to witness, they are gaining confidence in who they are and it makes my heart soar greater than any fear could.  

It’s so hard as parents not to protect them because we can. We have every right to do so, but we also have the responsibility to send our kids back out into the world empowered to overcome the challenges they will inevitably face.  So ask yourself, how are you empowering your children, are you letting them fall down, and letting them learn how to pick themselves back up again.  We HAVE to work at this DAILY in our house.  We TALK , we communicate about mistakes, and pushing through and I'm honest with Graham that life is hard.  Maybe too honest at times but he's also seen hard times from the age of 2.  As much as we wanted to protect him, we couldn't.  His sister lived in a hospital for almost 5 months, and when she came home we were living with my parents and Sloane had nurses and her nanny and two broken parents trying to figure out how to survive this new normal.  It wasn't easy.  I still look back and can't believe that was my life, BUT without that road, we wouldn't be where we are today.  My goal is to share a little bit of our story over the next couple of weeks/months.  Let's be honest Sloane's story is CRAZY and LONG and it will be chapters upon chapters but it's a page turner and it's taught me more valuable lessons in these four years than I would have ever learned anywhere else.  

One final thought because I can't end my helicopter parenting rant without the best part.  On our last day at Disney Graham decided he wanted to ride Space Mountain to overcome his fear.  So the three of us headed over to the 2 hour wait and got in line to support him.  I was also feeling guilty and secretly was hoping to redeem myself.  While we were standing in line I decided to check our fast passes just to see if there was anything for Space Mountain.  I still smile to myself when it plays out in my head.  TWO FAST PASSES opened up for the exact time we were waiting in line.   Jay jumped at the chance to take him and the two of them hopped over the railing and off they went.  As I watched them both walk away I knew this was God's way of showing me to let him go, he was going to be fine AND my fear couldn't rule over my child's ability to want to overcome a fear that I misplaced the day before.  10 minutes later Graham walked out with the biggest smile on his face knowing he overcame the biggest roller coaster of his life without one tear or one crazy mom holding him back.  Sometimes all it takes is intentionality of letting go even when all we want to do is hold on tight.     

On the resource tabs I have some AMAZING kid books that we read to our kids about failure, rising above challenges, and learning from your mistakes.  Graham and Sloane both love them and we do too.  xoxo

 

Beauty out of Ashes

He makes beauty out of ashes – have you ever sat around to think about what that actually means?  I have, and I know first hand out of our own pain and struggles; there is joy that might not have been found without walking THROUGH it.   I’ve contemplated this space, blog, or whatever you want to call it for a VERY long time. Back in January one of  my best friends told me I should start a blog and run a ½ marathon.  She told me I needed to set goals for myself.  I distinctly remember laughing and saying I hate running and I have nothing to say.  For some reason I’m now doing both.  At points while typing I've asked myself why, but then realized why not.  It may be hard and scary but you know what's worse.  REGRET.  So here I am attempting to be vulnerable and real about raising a medically complex child and walking this unknown path all while still trying to manage being a good wife, present mom, daughter, sister, friend, employee etc.. and let me be honest it’s HARD and lonely at times. 

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More often than not, I have wished there was a road map for our journey, wishing, hoping, and praying for answers.  Four year ago when our lives were turned upside down I remember Googling some of Sloane’s conditions and there wasn’t much to read and the doctors couldn't tell us anything definitive about her future.  Instead we live in 6-month increments, with appointments and therapies in-between MRIs believing everything is stable.  What I’ve started to realize in the midst of these waiting periods, maybe it’s better this way.  I don’t want a diagnosis defining our future of what she can and can’t do.  I want to push her forward to be the best she can be.  I remember telling the doctors that she can do everything everyone else does until she shows us differently.  Guess what, so far she does everything.  We were told she wouldn’t hear out of her right ear.   When I whisper in her ear that is sutured shut and tell her she’s a superhero, she repeats back to me what I've said.  When the doctors told us she wouldn’t be an athlete because of the tumor on her cerebellum, she is starting her first soccer season this fall.   It's incredible to see a child overcome the supposed limits of a diagnosis.  So I say all of that to say this - I hope this will be a space of hope and lots of laugher and learning together how to navigate the everyday challenges or raising medically complex kids but doing it gracefully and with JOY.