Independance

I'm a helicopter parent at heart. If I didn't reign myself in, I would completely hover over my children 24/7 making sure they make good decisions, they're never in danger, that all their friends would be good influences, etc etc. I first realized this about myself when I was a preschool teacher and watched moms drop their kids off at school. I saw some give their kids a big hug, a big smile, and a confident "see you in a little bit!", and then turn and walk out the door. Then there was the other kind. I immediately knew, "I am the other kind" before I was even a mom. So I've worked really hard to guide my children towards autonomy and gentle separation from me bit by bit as they mature, to not hold them so close that I paralyze them. It's not always easy, I'm working against my core, but I'm grateful I'm aware and work towards balancing myself as a mum.
So today, I dropped Payton and Jonah off curbside at their school, and as I'm driving Davey to his pre-k class he announces, "I want to be dropped off at the sidewalk!" His classroom is a straight 30 yards from the curb within eyesight, BUT he is only four, that does seem young to be "checking" himself in to preschool. However, he was very insistent that he's ready, and I knew it would mean so much to him to give him this responsibility. So I agree.
We pull up, he hops out with a big grin, and as I pull away, I see he's headed in the opposite direction of his class. But I'm in the flow of traffic, and it's a crazy process, so I can't stop or pull over, I have to keep going. I'm panicking as I watch him in my rear view mirror wandering back and forth looking lost. I park ASAP and run over, I don't see him right away, and then he spots me and is nervous. "Mommy, I didn't know where to go!" I told him I was worried, and I was here to help him. He got really upset and indignant that he didn't NEED my help, would I PLEASE stay right where I was and allow him to walk into his class by himself. So I did.
It's so hard to know how much to let go. I was trying to give him space to grow a bit, but maybe it was too early (like I had felt all along). It's a continual dance I do with my children, trusting them with more freedoms, letting them make mistakes, trying to stuff the urge to say "I told you that would happen" when things go wrong. Davey's desperate to be a big boy, and he's determined to do it on his own again tomorrow morning. I'll let him try, but I'll be ready to pull over and make a mad dash to the rescue if need be. Ahhh, the balancing game continues...