My daughter stands at the cooktop carefully considering the frozen dumplings she is cooking.
She lamented that she is not old enough to cook. I disagreed. 12 is old enough to do so many things. I let her use the gas stove. Fire.
I think about how scary it is actually to let them become grown, independent, self reliant.
My son comes home from college tomorrow. I will breathe easier when he is here back under my roof and I can try to assess his state of being. Not that I think I can undo anything he may have chosen out there on his own. I know that, but it does worry me, it stirs my fear.
We want to keep our kids safe, but we can’t if we want them to know freedom.
Freedom is not safe. Freedom is risky. Freedom is dangerous.
It is reasonable to steer them away from recklessness, but I even wonder about that.
When does our pursuit of safety become oppression?
Where is that line?
I say I want freedom. Am I willing to give it as well?