On the same camping trip I wrote about in an earlier post, there was an incident that made me reflect on how I react as a parent.
My son had bought a couple of packets of powder that change the color of a fire. He was sharing them with his friends, and one of the kids was sitting in front of the fire. When I saw my son about to throw a packet toward him, I yelled at him not to do it.
All I could think about was the possibility of an accident. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt because of something my son did.
But he was hurt by how I spoke to him, especially in front of his friends. He put his head down and walked away.
After a while, I realized how my reaction had affected him. I tried to explain that I had been scared someone would get hurt. We talked, and in the end, things were okay.
Still, that moment stayed with me because I recognize the same reaction in other situations. I worry about him getting into trouble. I worry about him being bullied or doing something that makes it harder for him to connect with other kids. Sometimes, without realizing it, I let those fears turn into a harsh tone or words that hurt him.
In that moment by the fire, I needed to stop him quickly. But once the danger had passed, I also needed to help him understand what had scared me and acknowledge how I had spoken to him.
The harder part is noticing when I react with that same urgency even though there is no immediate danger. Sometimes I’m responding to what I’m afraid might happen, rather than what is actually happening in front of me.
I want him to learn, stay safe, and make good choices. I also want him to feel that he can come to me when something goes wrong. The way I speak to him matters in both.
I’m working on it. I’m trying to notice my fear sooner, explain myself more clearly, and take responsibility when I’m too harsh. Loving him doesn’t mean I always get my response right. It means I need to keep learning too.