Little lesson?

As a mom, I'm frequently torn between wanting to make things easier for Maggie (or myself!) or letting her learn a lesson on her own - even if it means learning the hard way. She loves to make her own chocolate milk; I hate the inevitable mess, and though it's easier to do it for her, I know she needs the confidence that comes with doing it herself. Likewise, if she pitches a fit wanting to wear flip-flops to school when it's 30 degrees outside, I gently suggest another option and, when met with 5-year-old attitude, let her learn that lesson too. (She did wear the flip-flops last week, and I got lots of looks as she walked in to school ... some judgmental, others synpathetic. And even though I hated myself a little bit for it, I did sneak a change of shoes into her school bag. Which she readily accepted as soon as we got into school.)

So this morning we set off into school, she carrying her backpack and water bottle. She spotted an older friend, who offered to walk Maggie to her classroom. I've been trying all year to get Maggie to walk inside without me, so we I jumped at this new opportunity. Maggie enthusiastically agreed to go in with Mattie, and I kissed her good-bye, reminding her to get her crackers out of her backpack and put them on top of her locker (which is where the kids store their lunches and snacks). I hit Starbucks and then went back to the school for my shift as a library volunteer.

As I walked around the school gathering books that needed returning, I glanced at Maggie's locker. The water bottle was sitting on top of it, but no crackers. It was too early for her to have already had snack time, so I'm assuming she forgot to get them out. A huge part of me really wanted to go down there and fix the situation for her, unnoticed.

But I didn't.

If I'm always fixing things for her, she'll never learn to take care of them on her own. Maybe she'll miss snack today. Maybe she'll have to ask the teacher for permission to get inside her locker and locate her snack. Maybe it will jog her memory: "Oh, yeah, Mommy told me to do that." And maybe next time she'll remember when she's supposed to.

I hate the thought of anything making her uncomfortable, embarrassed, hungry, or sad. But even more than that, I hate the thought of her being unable to cope in everyday life situations. So these small lessons are my attempt at nudging her in the right direction. When Maggie was a baby, I read a book that said my role as a mother was to eventually work myself out of a job. That's a tough pill to swallow. I want her to need me, but I know there's such a thing as too needy, and encouraging that does a disservice to her.

Why is parenting so hard sometimes? And could anything else make me think so deeply about a simple pack of crackers tucked away inside a backpack three miles down the road?