This whole parenting thing?

Um yeah.

My job as a mother is two fold.  I need to raise my children to be able to think for themselves, yet, I also need to step in to aid them, advise them, if they are making a mistake when they are left to make a decision on their own.

It’s a fine line and one that I’m not so good on.

Matthew is 11 and a 1/2.  He’s at the point in his life that I’m allowing him to make descisions on his own.  While I am going to be around for the rest of his life and the parent with veto power until he turns 18, there are decisions that he needs to learn to make now.  Determining which decisions he is capable of making and which ones I need to step in on is where I struggle at times.

I am very fortunate that at this stage of the game, Matthew knows that I see the bigger picture and when I advise him that perhaps he might want to go a different route, he normally listens.  I don’t expect it to always be this way, but for now, I’m enjoying it.

For the most part, I’ve doing okay at knowing when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em, meaning Matthew is learning that I can’t tell him whether he should go to a youth event or football practice.  Matthew is learning to manage his time on his own.

And he’s doing quite well.

But today?

Oh today.  When I allowed him to make a choice that will affect the rest of his life.

Matthew came home with a huge mass on the top of his ear yesterday.  He told me that it hurt, especially when I squeezed it.  So I kept squeezing it.  Not to be mean, mind you, but rather to determine if it was doctor worthy.  I knew that he had taken a big hit Monday at football.  I was slightly concerned.

This morning it was no worse, but no better either.

Another nurse, and former football mom, mentioned cauliflower ear.  For the love of all things holy, please do not google this phrase.  Unless you like gross pictures.  Then google to your heart’s content.

I should not have googled it, but in a way, I’m glad that I did.  It confirmed that it was better to be safe than sorry, so I made Matthew an appointment.

After seeing his pediatrician, he sent us to the ENT doc who, seriously?  I wish he was our family doctor.  I loved him.  Really I did.  He explained in mom terms, and kid terms what was going on, why the mass was there, what it was and most importantly, our options to take care of it.

After the options were presented, he looked at me.  I looked at Matthew.

We had two, basically… drain it or let it go.

To drain it would make his ear the normal shape again with a slight scar where the incision was made.  To let it go was a crap shoot.  His ear could stay that way or it could go away and you would never know that it was there.  The latter option would put him back on the field tomorrow, the former would require him to miss two weeks of football.

I could tell Matthew was nervous, but I wanted him to weigh in.  Me personally, at first, I was all about… let it go, get back on the field, be a man.  Because I’m so not a good nurturer.  And I feel absolutely horrible about that.  But then, I wanted Matthew to tell me what he wanted to do.  It’s his football, not mine.  It’s his ear, not mine.

But was that a choice that I needed to make for him?  Was it a choice that he could make on his own?

After more thought, I decided that we should drain it, but I was still waiting for Matthew to weigh in.  What I didn’t want was for him to come to me when he’s 30 and blame his slightly different ear on the decision that I made for him 19 years prior.

But shouldn’t I be confident in the decisions that I make as a mother?  Shouldn’t I be able to look my kids square in the eye when they are older and tell them that everything I did, I felt was in their best interest?  Does it matter?

Eventually, Matthew’s decided to have it drained and miss two weeks of football.  Having a “normal” ear was more important to him.  And I have accepted that.

I have also realized that I am too concerned with football.  We take football seriously around these parts.  It’s a lifestyle. It’s a family.  It’s a big deal.

I realized tonight that I’m afraid to miss football practice, but I don’t think twice if I need to miss church.

That’s a problem.

Fortunately, for me, Matthew was a little smarter than I am when it comes to this.  He realized that missing football for two weeks was far less important than his ear.  And while it’s cosmetic in nature, it was important to him.

In the grand scheme of things, two weeks of football is nothing.  We’ll probably be heading in Friday morning for the procedure.

And now?

In addition to being very grateful that this is all that it is and it’s not a knee or head injury… or a broken bone, I’m confident in the decision that he made and he is too.  But for a brief moment, I wished that I had a magic eight ball to tell me what to do.

And I know that this isn’t the first or the last time that I’ll feel that way.

So now I want to know.  Do you allow your children to make age appropriate decisions?  How do you determine what is age appropriate?

Until next time…