So my 15-year-old son says he wants to work part-time. Great! I'm all for it.
Only his choice of a part-time job is not the same as mine. He sees the money and his eyes glow. But this has long hours, hard physical work, the likelihood of nasty and potentially exploitative bosses written all over it. Now why, I think, can't he choose an easier route but maybe does not pay that much. I know it's not even about the money. At his age it's about his friendships - the group of close friends all out working the same gig together.
On one level, I know this is good for him. Hardship never killed anyone. Hardship grows character. If he meets with a nasty boss, then its time he learned that the world can be harsh. If he is exploited, he will learn from his mistakes. What may seem hard to me may not be so to him. Plus the money is good.
He is eager to work. He says he understands the hard work and the tough conditions that await. He knows all that. Or at least he brushes those aside when I list them.
So I know all the good reasons why he should be allowed to go his way. On a purely academic level, I get it. But there is this fierce tug in my heart that resists this. That tug is unreasonable, irrational, obstinate and emotional. That tug is made up a huge knot of emotions.
It is born of the deep anxiety to protect our children, to shield them from any form of hardship.
But I guess to help them grow up, I myself must grow up. As I expect them to be independent, to learn through mistakes, so must I as a mother learn the hard way to let go and trust that all will be well. As tough as it is to want to cushion them from all of life's hard knocks, I must learn to stop and let them go. It is scary and full of anxious hand-wringing and second-guessing but maybe that is my journey as a mother.
Growing up is hard. Even for mothers.
