As my daughter, Lily, ambled towards me, her head hung low and tears glistening in her eyes, I sensed something was amiss. Typically my vibrant 11-year-old, she seemed weighed down after a rough day at school. It was the start of a new year, and, as always, her shyness had resurfaced. This time, it was the lunchroom that had thrown her into turmoil. Surrounded by unfamiliar faces, lunch had become a source of anxiety rather than a break.
Lily wasn’t friendless; she simply struggled to make the first move in conversations. Yet, once the ice was broken, her true, sparkling personality would shine through. This year, however, the preteen social scene was particularly challenging. Fifth-grade girls can be a tough crowd, and if you don’t fit into the stereotypical bubbly mold, it’s difficult to find your place in a clique.
My heart sank as she recounted her lonely lunch, and I suddenly found myself recalling my own memories of being the shy bookworm in fifth grade, often the new kid. I felt her pain and wanted to intervene. My instinct was to fix things immediately—who could I reach out to? Who at the school could help her navigate these treacherous waters?
Despite knowing deep down that I shouldn’t interfere, I couldn’t shake the urge to micromanage her experience. I ended up calling a friend who worked in the lunchroom, trying to concoct a plan to ease her struggles. And in that moment, I realized I was guilty of what’s now termed “lawn mower parenting.”
Unlike the more commonly known “helicopter parents,” who hover over their kids, lawn mower parents take it a step further. We obsessively clear the path of any obstacles our children might encounter, striving to create a perfectly smooth experience devoid of any discomfort. Essentially, we “mow” down challenges so our kids can sail through life without any bumps.
If you think you might be guilty of this behavior, you’re not alone—and we need to stop it, parents. Making things too easy for our children isn’t doing them any favors. Life is inherently difficult, especially during those tumultuous early adolescent years. We all cringe at our awkward middle school photos, recalling the glasses, acne, and unfortunate fashion choices. We remember the heart-wrenching moments of first crushes and the sinking feeling of losing a friend.
Ultimately, we all survived those trying times, and so will our kids. Yes, there will be tears, heartache, and struggles along the way. You’ll want to defend your child fiercely when they’re hurt, and you’ll watch them grapple with academics and social dynamics. But here’s the thing: It’s not about us—it’s about them.
Kids need to experience the same trials we faced to gain the perspective necessary for adulthood. They must feel embarrassment and discomfort to motivate themselves to strive for better. While it’s essential to help guide them, we shouldn’t pave an effortless path for them. Instead, we should equip them with the tools they need to navigate their own challenges. Let them stumble; let them learn how to rise again.
Falling isn’t the issue—it’s the ability to get back up, to fight for what’s right, and to grow stronger in the face of adversity that truly matters. If we continuously clear their paths, we risk raising entitled individuals who expect life to be handed to them on a silver platter. And frankly, we have enough of those already.
So, let’s put away the lawn mowers, parents. Allow your children the space to do the hard work of growing up. It’s not easy, but we must reserve our involvement for when they genuinely need us. Trust me, watching your kids tackle life’s challenges while you enjoy a glass of wine on the patio is infinitely more enjoyable than pushing that mower around. For more insights on parenting challenges, check out this article.
In summary, lawn mower parenting might seem like a kind gesture, but it ultimately hinders our children’s growth. Instead of clearing every obstacle, we should empower them to face life’s challenges head-on, helping them develop resilience and independence.