Children are brave

I suppose it is a normal maternal instinct to protect one's child, but occassionally this instinct to protect can limit a child. Luckily for me, One Philly Daddy can be in tune for when I'm setting that safety limit just a bit too close to home.

We spent a weekend with family at the shore this summer - it was One Philly Son's (OPS) second trip to the beach, and we'd been to the pool a few times, so he was comfortable with water and sand. He stared, amazed at the seagulls and wondered at the waves. He was just beginning to walk while holding on to someone's hands and insisted on crawling toward the water.

One Phillly Daddy and I stood at the surf, letting OPS put his feet in the water. As a wave would approach I would pick him up, sure the waves would frighten him, as even the small ones would come up to his waist. Each time I picked him up he fussed a bit, confirming my suspicion that he was afraid of the waves.

Finally One Philly Daddy suggested I leave him standing on his own two feet when the wave came in.

And he loved it!

Laughing, mouth wide open in glee and amazement, he gloried in the waves.

I'm so proud of One Philly Son for how brave he is, for how unafraid he is of new things, things he'd never seen, things that should be huge and frightening and beyond his comprehension.

I'm also proud of One Philly Daddy and I - he for seeing our son's need and voicing how I was not meeting it, and myself for trusting One Philly Daddy and One Philly Son and allowing my 10 month old to stand on his own two feet in the crashing surf.

He loved it.