Every generation of parents embarks on the journey of “I Will Raise My Children Differently Than My Parents Did,” only to find themselves gradually succumbing to the pressures of parenthood. This tug-of-war between the desire to diverge from my upbringing and the instinct to forge my own path is where I currently stand.
In my childhood, my parents were astonishingly easygoing. My mother, despite her ambition and dedication to providing a nurturing environment, simply didn’t have the bandwidth to micromanage every mistake I might make. And believe me, I made plenty. Her philosophy was clear: if I got myself into trouble, I needed to figure out how to get out of it—think critically, be resourceful, and seek assistance when necessary. This approach, while beneficial later in life, made me feel quite untamed during my formative years.
There was little discussion about saving money, no consistent curfews, and absolutely no nagging about my vegetable intake. The focus was primarily on empowering women, promoting literacy, and other invaluable lessons, but boundaries were nearly non-existent. Fortunately, my inherent caution and respect for authority kept me out of significant trouble.
Now that I’m a parent, I’ve swung to the opposite end of the spectrum, adopting a much stricter approach than my mother ever did. I monitor my children’s sugar intake and enforce a specific diet. Bedtime is strictly at 7 p.m., and I’ve never permitted playdates without my or my husband’s supervision. I oversee homework diligently and am a fixture at the pediatrician’s, school, and dentist offices. I have become everything my mother was not.
This shift has been overwhelming. Recently, I had a moment of realization: I’ve transformed into a hyper-involved parent, driven by the fear that my children might feel neglected as I once did. Everything—cooking, cleaning, organizing playdates—has morphed into my sole purpose, draining joy from my life. As a result, I’ve found myself snapping at my children for not meeting my rigid expectations.
In an effort to regain balance, I’m learning to ease up. I’ve noticed how I tend to micromanage my family, from rearranging furniture to obsessively folding laundry. It dawned on me that I could take a step back and eliminate some of my most compulsive behaviors. The house can remain livable without my constant vigilance over every sock left on the floor. I could allow my children to make their own meal choices instead of adhering to my overly structured meal plans. I might even consider letting my oldest visit a friend without hovering nearby.
Establishing balance has become my primary focus. Learning to relax and allow my children to enjoy themselves while I practice tolerating a little chaos will ultimately enhance my parenting. I don’t want to be an overbearing parent any more than I want to be a permissive one. Like many parents, I’m navigating the uncertain waters of motherhood, figuring out the best path forward.
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In summary, my upbringing has led me to become an overprotective parent, but I am now striving to find a balance that allows for both structure and spontaneity in my children’s lives.