My husband and I took Lilly hiking up Mt. Crag in Northfield, MA a few weeks ago. The foliage was hitting its peak and the morning fog burned off into a sunny, pleasant day. I hadn’t been up here in years, since before Lilly was born; when Jay suggested we bring Lilly there, I hesitated. Wasn’t that a bit steep for her? It’s a high, rocky climb. You’ll have to carry her up most of the way. It’s too tiring, isn’t it?
He waved away my concerns. “She’ll be fine.”
And you know what? She was. She did great. Jay held onto her under her arms and helped pull her up, but she zipped right up that ascent without a complaint. “This is fun!” she said.
Sometimes, I just have to let her do things. I have to ignore the chorus of worry that’s always singing in the back of my mind, and let her stretch her wings. I have to actively fight against the instinct to overprotect and keep her helpless. Luckily, my husband counterbalances this with his need to share the things he loves with Lilly: hiking, biking, being in the great outdoors (he worries about different things, and I try to counterbalance in my own way). Maybe between the two of us, she’ll come out just fine.