Learning to Let Out the Leash

We went to the Halloween dance at school last night: an annual event where the kids can trial their costumes, get groovy down in the gym dancing with friends and have paltry snacks in the school cafeteria.

We took the girls last year, and the year before, and usually ended up just sitting on the bleachers watching the older children have fun. So this year, as we were walking in, my wife and I looked at each other and I said "I hope we're not benchwarmers again this year."

But what happened isn't necessarily what I had wished for...at least, what I was really wishing for.

After a few minutes of getting accustomed to the chaos, the low lighting and the loud music, we did end up on the bleachers for about 5 minutes. But then Skylar found a friend and ran off with her. And then Fiona found a friend and went off on her way. My wife was chatting with a couple of friends, and there I was, standing in the middle of the school gym dance wondering when my kids got old enough to run off on their own.

I was jumping back and forth between "It's okay...they're having fun...they need to explore" and "My God, I can't see them in this crowd...I don't know where they are...I hope they didn't slip on the floor...are they okay?" to "It's the school gym...nothing will happen...they know not to leave the gym without us...they can find us if they need us" to "When did I become this dad?

I was wishing not to warm a bench. And my wish came true. But I wasn't prepared for what that wish actually meant: my girls are going to need some space and I have to start trusting them (and the rest of the world) to let them wander a little further.