Confessions of an Overprotective Mother

Don’t! No! Be careful! Watch out! All phrases I catch myself saying to my kids more than I care to admit. The truth is, I am an overprotective mom. I’m not particularly proud of it. In fact, I often feel ashamed when I sit and think about it. Some people may think I’m uptight, too strict, or just crazy. I think I am cautious. I don’t want to hold my kids back because of my insecurities, but how can I ensure they are safe?

What Can Overprotective Look Like?

Each of us created and carried these babies that walk around this big world holding our heart and souls in the palms of their hands. Their physical, emotional and mental pain equates to our own. It is only natural knowing what that pain can feel like, so much that we would want to do anything we can to shelter our kids from it even if that mean sheltering them from other opportunities and experiences in the process. For example, when I stressed for weeks about our first time staying in a hotel for the weekend and brought everything that would shelter him, entertained, in our room. I was certain this was to be a disaster; not once did I realize that my son would actually think it was awesome and would love exploring all around the hotel itself.

Right now I can kiss boo-boos and cuddle sickness away. I can see them through the tunnel of sadness when they forget their blanket somewhere, and I can rock gas pains to sleep. I can make it better…but just for right now. The looming fear of the day I can’t fix something is what gives me anxiety, thinking of the “what ifs” and trying to prepare the best I can for the unexpected. It’s what forces the “watch out!” and the “look where you are going” from my mouth.

When I say “watch out” to my fearless toddler, it’s because I see one hundred different terrible outcomes to what he is about to do. Broken bones and tears generally flash before my eyes. What I often forget is that he doesn’t see any outcomes. That is the whole point. He is exploring, learning, and excited for what comes next because, more than likely, he has no idea! That is a really tough pill to swallow when I sit down and think about my over protectiveness reaping his joy from exploring the world around him. Is it really fair to him that he doesn’t get to swim in the lake and make memories because I think the water might be too cold? All those wild and crazy scenarios of him drowning are not realistic since I will have my eye on him every single second not to mention my hands.

Owning the Anxiety

I think there is a form of anxiety that is inherited when you become a parent regardless if you had it before kids. You are now responsible for these little lives that depend on you for everything, and let’s face it: that’s a big deal. That is cause to send even the most cool, calm, and collected individuals into the deep end. When you already have anxiety and then you become a parent, it’s like the house is on fire; you never practiced an escape route prior to having kids. Now, you have kids, and you still don’t know an escape route, and you also have three animals to get out. (Not that I have thought about this or anything).

I don’t want to project on to them. I don’t want to be the reason why they develop anxiety and don’t know why, what it is, or how to deal with it. There is no way I can be their eyes and ears every day and point out everything that could possibly go wrong and how to avoid it. That is cringe-worthy behavior.

I want them to learn and experiment on their own what outcomes are and what consequences look like, to experience pure joy from a surprise outcome and to be spontaneous and open-minded. I want them to seize opportunity. Ask forgiveness instead of permission (I know I will regret that one later). I want them to be happy.

So What Can We Do?

My over protectiveness of them is not their issue. Voicing caution at them each time we are on a walk, and they start to steer the wrong way, is not their problem. It is all my own. How do I look within myself to lessen my anxiety and curve my behavior, so that they flourish? There are three things that I do regularly to help myself along this journey and maybe they could help you, as well:

1. See a therapist or counselor. I cannot sing the praises of that enough. It has been a game changer for me, my marriage, and my parenting. It helps lessen the frequent build ups of the “what if’s” when I can voice them out loud to someone, and they are then able to walk me through why it is unlikely or unrealistic. Regular counseling sessions is one of the best things I have ever invested in when it comes to self-care.
2. Slow down. Try to correct the anxiety-infused phrases before they are even coming out of your mouth. Try to praise something positive that is happening. Nine times out of ten when I let it be, to my surprise it is perfectly fine.
3. Give grace when you don’t meet your own expectations. No one is perfect and try as we might, we are still going to yell “watch out!” before we even realize it is coming out of our mouths. Allow yourself those hiccups and know that you are doing your best.

We have our bumps and bruises along the way, but I want there to be a lesson or a story behind those battle wounds. I want them to navigate through and know I was there with arms open the entire time. I don’t want them to feel defensive coming to me with a mistake or injury because of the varying degrees of caution I was saying at them instead of talking it through with them; also, I certainly don’t want to be the “I told you so.” So, I may let some sleepless nights pass my way due to worry of the future and possible obstacles in our way, but I promise myself and most importantly my kids, to try my best to let them explore this world to the best of their ability and to uncover all of the magical things that I have long forgotten exist.