You have that nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach. You allowed your daughter to spend some time with a new family on a playdate, one that you’d gotten to know reasonably well, but not as well as you’d like. However, because you understand that a mama’s got to gradually let out a little more rope in a child’s life as they grow, you agreed to let her go.
Now, you’re a little unsure. You want to trust that she’ll be okay, but now that she’s there, you’re struck by MAMA FEAR.
Oh my, I’ve been there, done that, still doing it. I get it. Seven kids. I’ve had enough mama fear to make an army of zombies run for cover. I understand.
And if you’re like me, gnawing, fearful thoughts lead to a myriad of questions that bubble in your subconscious and surface the whole time your child is gone. “Is she okay? Are these people really safe? Do they really share my values? Are they watching out for her as I would? . . .”
And if you’re like me, by the time we pick our kiddo up from her playdate, we barely make it into the mini-van before our bubble damn bursts. “Were they nice to you? Did anyone hurt you? Did they show you a movie you shouldn’t watch? Who? What? Where? When? How? . . .” And our child is drowning in our soap suds of questions, feeling our fear, with no understanding of why. They can’t even respond to our questions because, well, no one can communicate with bubbles in their mouth! By the time we’ve scooped up the bubbles, by ceasing our interrogation, we have no idea what our child did at the playdate or how our child really felt about it.
Because it’s not so much what she did at the playdate that’s important. It’s how she felt about what she did at the playdate.
How she felt will give us more information about her safety than the activities she participated in. Children are feelers. And right now all she is feeling is our fear and she can’t navigate through our feelings to get to hers.
We do this as mamas. I know, because I’ve written enough fiction in my head while my children have been away from me to fill a library. Well, okay, seven libraries. I’ve also been guilty of spouting off questions rooted in my fiction and based on my fear. (True confession: I just did this the other day with one of my teens. I’m still learning.)
And when fear governs our mama questions, we lose. And so does our child.
