This last week has been a doozy. Never mind that I had a husband out of town and the single momming went into over time. Or that I was trying to get Christmas gifts lined up (I'm still knitting!) to be sent this week. Nor will I mention the mounds of paper I was trying to read, of which at some point into last week I gave up on.
The thing that had me toe the line next to madness; that which brought me into the realms of a helicopter parenting nightmare:
C's (my 9 year old) science project and presentation. Of which I wasn't allowed to help him with.
It was almost the death of me.
I'm *so* not even kidding.
Sure, it was just an experiment about creating layers, to present The Principle of Density. Yeah, he's only in the third grade; it's not his SATs, or his graduate thesis. I can talk logically about it until I am aqua in the face, but it doesn't take away the fact that I had a couple of internal meltdowns.
I had to walk away while he managed his own materials. I had to bite my lip as he did the experiment. I had to slap my own hand away as I watched him do his presentation board.
And you won't believe it...I didn't even say a word as he practiced his presentation.
This morning, he schlepped his presentation board and a cooler full of materials to present it to his class. I cried when he walked away from the van, his brother helping him with all of his stuff. Not just because he is really growing up into his own personality, even taking me on this last week and all of my hovering.
But that, hey, I'm growing up with them too, and I'm sortof learning to let go. Not that I'm ready for them to drive or anything- hell, I'm still paranoid that they aren't in their 5-point restraint carseats. I'm just sayin', I didn't do so bad.
And I'll be on pins and needles until he gets home.
Have a great day everyone!
