Befitting that in the week that Mother’s Day falls, I finally learned what it means to give my child a level of trust

“You can tell him!”

“No… you! Because, if anything happens, you’ll shift the blame onto me!”

So went the veritable verbal tennis match surrounding the logistics of our eldest child finally being allowed outside the front of our house.

We have been so fortunate in being able to essentially keep our children within the confines of our back garden, along with our neighbours’ children for the last number of years. Due mainly, to the fact that we created a communal area of sorts which saw them being able to access all three without ever having to contend with navigating roads or oncoming vehicles.

When friends would visit, they would marvel at the set-up whilst intoning, ‘You are so lucky! We wish we had this!’

Yes, we were lucky. Our kids could wobble and toddle around the grass as we looked on from our kitchens.

But in the blink of an eye, that toddler has turned into an almost 10-year-old. With burgeoning hormones and the angsty look of a caged animal pacing his limited space. It was time to turn him loose, yet I was by no means prepared for it.

My husband, being one of three boys, was incredibly relaxed about the situation, ‘I can’t understand why you’re so uptight, you spent all of your time in fields as a child’. But this was different. A lot different.

My mind was on overdrive with ‘What ifs?’, fantastical scenarios that would see my son being abducted by forces from another planet or falling into some underground alternate universe via the fort he was building in a ditch.

On overhearing my conversation which ran something like, ‘Who is your doctor? What medication can you not have? What’s my phone number? What is our address?’… my husband eyerolled so hard he was able to view his spine. My son might have been ready to assert his independence but, it appeared, I was not so ready.

Categorically, this was the instance where I felt the tugging of the strings the most. All of the other ‘Firsts’, while emotional, had passed by without any lingering niggles.

The first day of school, the first match, the first birthday party, the first sleepover… all came and went without fanfare.

But there was a clear defining factor which separated this instance from the others; he was alone. By alone, I mean, without us or other adults who we knew. Each of those other firsts had been contained if you will: he had been surrounded by people he knew and trusted, in familiar areas. We were now trusting him.

The biggest ask we had ever demanded of him. He was out of sight, out of contact: just him and his friends and an expanse of trees to construct the ultimate fort.

A time was agreed upon for him to return home that evening as he bolted out of the door. We agreed to take it in turns to check in on them every hour or so which should have appeased any misgivings I might have had, but those four hours he was gone were interminable.

When it came time for me to cast a glance, I raced through the estate with the same pace my son had demonstrated when leaving.

Peering around the wall, like some budget Bond girl, I watched from a considerable distance as he along with the other boys dragged a fallen branch towards the ditch they had made their base. As he tumbled out of the hole, he turned his head and waved his arm in my direction which caused me to fling myself back against the wall as if I had been the recipient of an electric shock, so intent to preserve what I thought was a completely covert operation on my part. Then I heard him… a holler to accompany the wave, ‘Hi mum!’ I cried all the way back to my front door.

It is befitting that in the week that Mother’s Day falls, I finally have learned what it means to let go and give my child a level of trust. For him to know who he is, to trust his instincts. To trust that I know he will make bad judgements but will learn from them.

To know, which is the hardest of all, that I cannot always be there and neither can my husband. To trust, that for this part of his life, we have done what we can for him, instilled morals and values as best we could to allow him to step away from us slightly. To trust, that he will teach us.

Parenting is an utter gauntlet of emotions. I am not the mother I was when my child was born. I am not the mother I was yesterday. But, just like my son, I will find my way.

@thegirlinthpaper