Do I Let Her Fall? And other parental quandries...

Thud. Thud. Thud.

That's the sound of my blood pounding in my brain, my adrenaline all jacked up and ready to propel me across the yard to swoop up my crying baby.

She's climbing again, higher and more confidently every day. There she goes, scaling her way to the top of the fort, looking back at me for approval and applause. If I don't clap, she'll be upset. If I do, she'll let go and clap with me, which causes my blood pressure to soar and sparks that jolt of adrenaline. When I remind her to hold on, she'll yell at me and possibly stomp her feet, which makes me even more nervous. I'm caught in a no-win situation. So, I clap for her, I force a proud smile on my face. "Good job, Sweetie! Hold on, don't fall!"

Whew! She's down on the platform. Safe. But wait! She's turning around, working her little tush onto the top step, wedging herself in where she KNOWS she'll get "stuck!" She's done that before, and then I help her hop down, safe in my arms. But this time, she looks at me, "stuck!" she says, then she JUMPS out, almost before I can catch her! The adrenaline, it's flowing full-force.

She runs over to the first step to do it all over again. And again.


And I'm left asking myself, do I let her fall? Should I just let her jump down on her own? It's only a two foot drop, she won't get seriously hurt, maybe just bang her head against the fort, or land hard on her feet. Enough to scare her a little. But is that good parenting? To let your child do something a little risky, knowing the outcome, letting it happen anyway? I can't protect her forever. There are consequences to our actions. She needs to learn this. But she's so little! I'm there to keep her safe while she explores, figures out what she's capable of doing.

I'm pondering all of this while she keeps climbing. Now it's the slide. She's walking up it, not holding on, ducking her head to fit through the arch. She almost falls off the edge, but catches herself. She laughs a little nervously. She knows that was a close call. She looks at me to see how I'll react. I tell her, "Good catch, be careful, Chicaboo."

I'm weighing all of this against my own memories of childhood. I was a "climber," too. I would routinely climb high up into the tree tops and then get stuck, not knowing how to get down. I'd yell at my dad, "should I just jump?" "No, don't jump, Kam! Hang on, I'll come get you!" And he always did. Except for the one time I fell and broke my arm. But that didn't teach me not to climb. I had this insatiable need to scale things. So, you see, she gets it from me.

Later, after she's safely in bed, with no new bumps or bruises, I ask my husband. "Should I let her fall?" "I don't know...maybe."