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By Marlene Widra
 Sitting on a park bench, I watch my now five year-old daughter, Anna, beam triumphantly from the top of the climber. A mere year ago, I would have needed to be at arm’s length beneath a much less sure-footed four year-old. Back then, I would have been needed to push her on the swing, but now she has learned to pump.
And so I sit. Sit and watch and wonder what exactly my new role is.
Are keeping pencils sharpened and the kitchen art shelf stocked with paper and paste as important to Anna’s healthy development as helping her learn to use the potty chair and make it through the night without nursing? It seems like my main work lately has been less directly involved in Anna’s life; I fill the swimming pool early to warm up for an afternoon swim and fill Popsicle molds with juice to freeze for an after-swim snack.
At five, Anna still has high-need moments, but for the most part, she is now independent enough to sail through her day with little assistance from me. This realization simultaneously fills me with a sense of pride and uselessness. I think about the stuffed lion she once would not be without, who now waits alone until bedtime snuggles. Soon, I know that same lion will sit untouched and forgotten on a shelf.
With impeccable timing, my train of thought is interrupted. “Hey Mom, watch this!” Anna calls from the climber.
I smile and watch her from my place on the park bench, no longer feeling like the abandoned lion. Sitting on this bench and sharing one of Anna’s shining moments is exactly what she needs from me right now. My daughter may not need me to tie her shoes anymore, but just being there for the good times, hard times, and all the everyday in-between times is still one of the most important things I will ever do. |
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