My son took a tumble yesterday. He was going down the brick steps on our front porch with his sister and grandmother. He got caught on the dog’s leash and landed face-down, without even having time to think or brace himself with his hands. My mama bear instinct kicked in and I raced to him, gathered him in my arms and held him tightly against my chest. This is the way I’ve responded to them since they were born. Any time one of them falls down or gets hurt, I run over and press them against me, as if I know that just by being close to me, they’ll feel safe and it will somehow make it better.

He was fine, but pretty shaken up, as was I. It made me think, however, about how I parent. For the most part, I’m a hoverer. I helicopter over them just anticipating for them to skin their knee, all the while so consumed with anxiety over the fear of the matter that I can’t enjoy the beautiful scene that’s right in front of my eyes. It’s a trait I get honest from my own mama, who’s constantly checking on me even though I live down the road and am well into my thirties. To some extent, don’t we all love and govern that way? Don’t we all put our best foot forward and press onward with confidence, all while keeping the other foot trailing behind us, with our eyes peeking over our shoulders to make sure we’re making the right moves and our children are also?

It comes with the parental territory, I believe. Part of loving so fiercely means we’re constantly on the lookout for the risks, but the quest doesn’t have to squelch the journey and it doesn’t have to consume us. Instead, we can do our absolute best and hope that with a little bit of grace and freedom, the rest will take care of itself. Does that mean I’ll let my two-year-old climb to the highest point of the playground and dangle his leg over the edge of the fireman’s pole like he absolutely loves to do, just to torture me?

Absolutely not. Yet, it does mean that I’ll walk beside him and stand under that fear-inducing spot just in case he needs me. It means understanding that some decisions are best left in my wheelhouse while the weight of others can be shared and shifted. I don’t have to carry the weight of the world and theirs all at once, and this is where a community and tribe come in. Together, we can tackle this parenting thing. Together, we can watch out for one another, lift each other up and encourage those around us that it’s all going to be OK.

I’ll never forget the first time we visited the ocean as a new little family of four. We drove the five hours to the beach, checked into our hotel, and settled in for a long weekend of splashing in the waves and relaxing in the sun. We’d taken a ferry to a nearby island on the inlet and left our vehicles on the mainland. We were miles from our safety net and our creature comfort of home. Instead, we were in a new environment, able to get around and explore our surroundings only by golf cart. That first morning, both kids woke up with ear infections and my husband came down with food poisoning. I didn’t think twice and didn’t for once consider an alternative. I gathered my people up in the cart, arranged for a ferry back to our car, and took everyone home. We were sleeping on our own beds before the day was over.

Yet, I didn’t do it alone. The hotel staff rallied behind me and made the checkout process a breeze. The ferry manager was kind and understanding as he helped us arrange a time to leave. The local urgent care doctor was professional and concise when I called him on the phone for a prescription to just get us through the next 24 hours. Even the golf cart attendant was so helpful and quick that we’re now contemplating using that mode of transportation more often!

Turns out, even on an island, no man is an island. Knowing that and leaning heavily into it, I’m better prepared to take each day as it comes and not anticipate too much. There may be tumbles and spills, setbacks and disappointments, but there will be great victories and even greater joy. Because we’re all in this together, and it’s that chain of community that’s going to propel us and our families through.