Morning routines can be chaotic, especially when your child is involved. “I need more milk!” my 6-year-old daughter declares. “I can get it!” she insists as I instinctively rise from my chair. I pause, reminding myself to let her handle it. I watch her rush into the kitchen, her small cup clutched tightly in her hand. As she struggles to open the refrigerator door, which nearly topples the salad dressing, my anxiety spikes.
With all her might, she yanks out the nearly full gallon of milk, which seems to weigh as much as she does. I take a deep breath, recalling the parenting literature that emphasizes allowing children to do things independently. What does it teach them again? My focus narrows as I see her tilt the gallon toward her cup. My tension rises as I anticipate disaster. Suddenly, milk spills everywhere, creating a mini flood on the floor.
“Oops!” she exclaims, setting the carton upright, milk still splashing out.
“It’s fine,” I manage to say through gritted teeth, forcing a smile as I hand her a mop. “Accidents happen!”
After sending the kids off to school, I try to avoid their bedrooms, knowing they made their beds to the best of their abilities. While many parents would be satisfied with that, I am not your typical mom. I am a recovering perfectionist. Eventually, I find myself upstairs, cupping my hands around my eyes like a horse wearing blinders to avoid a meltdown.
“It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine,” I murmur, despite knowing the sheets are likely bunched under the comforter. The impulse to take over extends well beyond breakfast and tidying up. I bite my tongue when my daughter comes down with an uneven ponytail, and I physically restrain myself from jumping in while they assemble a puzzle, my stomach churning as they take too long with each piece.
Being a control enthusiast has its advantages. In my previous work life, tasks were completed efficiently, and my bosses relied on my meticulous nature, even if my coworkers found my presence stifling. My life was orderly: a perfect credit score, organized sheets. The only downside was my discomfort with flying; I loathed relinquishing control.
“You’ll have to adapt once the baby arrives,” my friends warned during my pregnancy, often while I meticulously arranged their kitchen utensils. “This child will change everything.”
I brushed them off. “Sure, but could you lend me a tape measure and a circular saw? I can create something amazing for you!”
They were right. Despite my efforts to loosen the reins, old habits die hard. I understand that children must experience failure to learn—natural consequences are essential. After all, you must fall to learn to walk. That bunched-up sheet under the comforter isn’t going to cause harm. Repeat after me: The sheet bunched up under the comforter isn’t going to hurt anyone.
My children are developing resilience and determination. And judging by the noticeable twitch in my eyebrow as they take 20 minutes to tie their shoes every morning, I’m learning those lessons alongside them.
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Summary:
Navigating parenthood as a perfectionist poses unique challenges, especially when it comes to relinquishing control. As children learn through their mistakes, parents must embrace the chaos of daily life, recognizing that imperfection is part of growth. This journey can be an opportunity for both children and parents to develop resilience and adaptability.
Keyphrase: Parenting as a Control Freak
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