When parenting theories brush up against harsh realities...
Before we get to what happened, let me tell you what I believe: I really believe our society is moving way too far towards 'helicopter' parenting and over-protecting kids. I think kids need to learn to fail, need to fall down, need to hurt themselves, need to be comfortable by themselves, need to be bored...and so much more in order to develop into healthy adults. Here are a couple articles I think broadly reflect my point of view:
The Fragile Generation - http://reason.com/archives/2017/10/26/the-fragile-generation
The Overprotected Kid - https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2014/04/hey-parents-leave-those-kids-alone/358631/
So back to the story. It's Friday morning and we are at a friend’s place in Maine. Mom is pregnant with baby 2 and needs sleep. My friend doesn’t have kids yet, so he isn’t on the morning schedule we’re on. So when my daughter wakes up at 5:30 am, I take her down to the lounge area of the apartment while those two get more sleep. We end up playing in the lounge for a while, but as we walk to the bathroom, she sees the fitness room and wants to go in. I think to myself, “Why not?” I think we all know where this is headed…
We go into the gym and there's a guy working out that she occasionally stares at. But, for the most part, she is having a blast. She is climbing the treadmill, rolling around exercise balls, and just having a great time.
Then, suddenly, it all goes to hell. She is pushing an exercise ball and running after it. On this particular roll, it's rolling towards a treadmill that is on at a slow walking pace. As she reaches for the ball, the ball and her hand roll together until her hand is stuck between the moving treadmill and the ball. Her face freezes for a moment with pure shock before she starts bawling. I sprint over, roll the ball off and pull her hand away, but now it's too late. The skin is off most of her fingers and she is inconsolable. I run her hand under water, I hold her close, but it’s hard to convey how absolutely heartbreaking it is to hear your daughter wailing from pain.
Eventually, she settles down, the wound gets dressed and bandaged. And I've been wrestling with this ever since. Do I wish it had never happened? Do I wish I had been able to stop her from getting her hand stuck right before? It's easy to say I want her to fail, to get hurt, to learn to pick herself up...but damn, it's hard to see my favorite person on earth hurt when I could have done something to prevent it.
I don't know the answer. Each day that passes, as I see her hand starting to get better, I think I'm OK with what happened. I’ve even reached the point where I’ve made a funny video of pictures and clips before and after the incident to show her one day. But still, I've realized now it's a lot more difficult to not stand protectively next to her while she plays. To actually walk the walk when she actually has a negative experience. We’ll see?