Learning about Parenting from My Bunny-Obsessed Children

Picture: Lop-eared bunny next to a rope ball; Learning About Parenting from my Bunny-Obsessed Children
“Just give him space,” I plead. “Seriously, just back off.”
Despite my increasingly desperate tone of voice, the kids crowd around our new bunny. No matter how much I urge them to give him an escape route or to not stick food in his face – “Would you like me to stick broccoli in your face?” I ask – they just can’t seem to help it. They just love him too much to leave him alone.
But isn’t that feeling familiar to us parents?

The need to interfere, to manage, to fulfill our own needs and anxieties through the small creatures we’re caring for. To be on top of them when they most need independence. To mold them into what we need, rather than what they need. Or even if we don’t give into the urge to micromanage, to feel the urge and fight against it.
I want to say to my children, “Yes, I know that feeling. I know it when I worry about you, when I want to guide you in every decision, when I want to protect you from everything. When I worry that you don’t meet the expectations of the world for “normal.” And yet I can’t give into that feeling because I know that you deserve more. You deserve more than fulfilling my needs, my desires, and my terms. You deserve to meet the world on your own terms, just as the bunny does.” But I can’t, because they don’t quite understand yet.
So instead, when the kids finally leave the room, I sit on my older son’s floor and wait. Sensing safety and quiet, the bunny hops over to me. He nuzzles my leg and then scurries away. Once he feels like he has enough space, he sprints from one side of the room to the other. He spin-hops around, an adorable move called a “binky.” He does things that I thought only cartoon bunnies did. His joy is radiant.
So it is with our kids. When we sit back and follow their lead, that’s when they can blossom. That’s when they can be themselves, safe in knowing our love and not feeling the need to earn it. That’s when they can leap and jump both physically and metaphorically. I’m not saying that they don’t need our guidance. But that guidance should never come at the expense of giving them the space and freedom they need to be themselves.

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