THE TALL GRASS

You love your kids. You don’t want them to experience the hardship you experienced, and you want them to be set up for success beyond your own. It’s a natural feeling for us as parents. Isn’t it normal to chart a course for our kids, to empower them to go further in life? To set them up for a life better than our own.

Mind you, I am not a child development professional, I have no degrees in this area and I only have my own experience. I do, however, tend to be a bit observant of situations. Within those situations, I am aware that I don’t know the full context and perhaps, I’m only seeing an emotional, point-in-time decision based on years of build-up. While that is true, I also know you have your own experience and you’re not reading my thoughts for medical or psychiatric direction. If you are, please stop now.

With that out of the way, what am I getting at? Perhaps the best way I can explain is by sharing a term that was recently shared with me, the “lawnmower parent.” You’ve heard the term “helicopter parent” where a parent hovers over their child to observe, criticize or correct their every move. This parent is involved in every decision, micromanaging the mental and emotional development of their child. I’ve been this parent before when I focus on critiquing the actions of my kids. I’m obsessing over what they are or are not doing, correctly, in my eyes. The lawnmower parent is different. This is the parent that is always out in front of their child clearing the path, removing every obstacle in an effort to ensure their child doesn’t have to make a tough decision on their own or experience adversity.

I choose to believe that the heart of the lawnmower parent is in the right place, that the intent is constructive. No parent wants to see their kid struggle, even me. I do enjoy the feeling of seeing my kids experience the light bulb moments, however. Those moments when they figured something out on their own. In the earlier years, when I could still provide guidance on their homework, it was great to see them figure out the solution based on an approach different than my own. Or, deciding what should be included when packing their suitcase. It’s an error they learn more quickly when they get to a friend’s house and realize THEY forgot to pack underwear. At this point, there is no one else to blame and the consequence isn’t too severe. Today, it might look like a new idea on how to handle a tough situation with a friend. Or perhaps more commonly, mom and dad aren’t going to make the meal, so they need to figure out what a balanced, colorful, body-nourishing meal looks like…they’ll actually eat.

This reminds me of what my mom would say when we’re in the kitchen together. Whether we’re making dinner or emptying the dishwasher, she’d say, “Don’t ask me where something is or where something goes, keep looking until you find it’s home.” Sometimes, she’d ask a question about where I thought something like that would live or show me once but not repeatedly. Like so many of her one-liners, they seemed to only address the immediate and I didn’t draw the parallel to life. What she’s inferring is the same as a two-liner you’ve heard, “Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. TEACH a man to fish, feed him for a lifetime.” She knew that by telling me where I could find the glasses, I’d likely ask her again when I needed a plate. I’ve only then learned that she is the source of knowledge. She also knew that by letting me open and close a few cabinet doors until I found my objective, I was learning it on my own, gaining my own knowledge that I could then share with others. No wonder she always had me emptying the dishwasher and making my own lunches. Seriously, thank you Mom.

Or, what about when my daughter comes home from school complaining about an interaction with a friend that I too would complain about? What should I do? Should I call the other kid’s parent? Or the school? Should I tell her to ignore this person and find a new friend? I don’t want to see her struggle and as a dad of three daughters, I want to be the protector. I want to be the place of refuge for my girls. But if I make that phone call in this case, I might have robbed her of the ability to think critically. Instead, she realized that at this point, their personalities didn’t blend well, and she could have a better relationship with a different friend. Not the ideal outcome in the moment but a key learning in life.

There are certainly times when I will need to step in more directly. However, I need to apply my own discernment and realize those times are the exception, not the rule. My discussion with her was centered around understanding why this situation surfaced. Why did the friend act this way? How did you, my daughter, contribute to this interaction? I understand my kids aren’t perfect and could have contributed to this dilemma. What are a few options on how to move forward? If she helps to solve the problem, she’ll be better equipped to think critically in the moment and share that learning with others. If she just applies what I say or believes I’ll fix “it” for her, she’ll struggle more in those moments when the heat really rises. We’ve told our kids repeatedly and we share this belief with others, we’re not raising kids, we’re raising future adults, future leaders. Leaders can’t always look over their shoulder for someone to come save the day.

Sometimes, not giving the child what they want in the moment presents conflict. I’m essentially telling my child, “no” and in the earlier case, it’s to address a conflict for them. In other situations, this could be minor like saying they can’t always just have PB&J and grapes on their plate and no, I’m not going to make your lunch. Or, I won’t email the teacher for you, asking for clarification on an assignment. It’s likely they won’t make the same decision I would, which exposes some of my own helicopter issues but hey, improvement needs a place to start. On the other hand, what if we’ve taught our kids so well that they actually handle a situation better than we would have, or, make a much better lunch than we would have? Imagine that light bulb moment. Imagine if my teenager couldn’t make her own positive food choices or make her own bed. What if we got tired of negotiating with her and performed these daily tasks for her? Would it continue through high school and then into early adulthood? What decisions are made at that point? What did we really teach her? While the bed example is still working to prove its benefit (it took getting married for me to see the benefit), the food example has paid off in spades. I challenge you to find a newly minted teenager who eats a more powerful menu. Girl loves some sugar, but it brings a smile to our faces when she runs the show in the kitchen making her choices. The alternative could have robbed her of real-life qualities. She is now an example for her younger sisters and isn’t that the way it works? See one, do one, teach one? Show her how to make an omelette, have her make a few mistakes en route to her perfecting her own omelette then have her show her friend or sisters how to make an omelette.

This learning doesn’t happen, or at least it doesn’t happen until later in life unless we empower our children, our future adults, to think critically through tough decisions. If I rob my kids of learning through adversity, they’ll believe that life is easy because others take care of the hard stuff for them. Or, what if they walked through life not knowing how to think through things on their own?

By the grace of God, my adversity has been minimal and to date, so has the adversity our girls have had to face. There are times where it is appropriate for me to step in, times where adult contribution is advised. However, if I think my contribution is required to keep them from spilling milk on the counter, that is more of a control issue. When they spill the milk, they learn to clean it up. They learn that cleaning it up is no fun therefore they look for a way to avoid spilling the milk. I’m not pouring the milk for you any longer and guess what, they love the responsibility. Shoot, now they observe parental behavior when we’re out and they feel sorry for the kid. “Let your kid try it for themselves instead of doing it for them. They’ll learn.” These are statements they have made from their own observations.

Can you please let your children, your future adults, spill a little milk, get a few bruises, make a few mistakes and see that both you and they, can learn through not having the grass mowed for them? Let them experience a little reality, a little bit of hiking through the tall grass, not just walking barefoot on the putting green. If they’re not fortunate enough to experience some small failures at an early age, what happens when they fail at something at a later age? They might think they’re a failure because life has come so easy for them until that moment. Don’t do that to them. Don’t rob them of the learning experience adversity provides? Did you become stronger by having life lived for you?