How a paper route influenced my child’s development
When and how to let go when you are not ready.

Lately, my husband and I have been having this conversation a lot. Our children are eleven and eight, and it seems in recent weeks that they have started growing up. Really growing up. In height and behaviors — some subtle and some glaringly obvious, underscoring this reality. A reality that has us questioning when and how to let go.
I have been through a lot with my oldest: holding his hand by his hospital bed; through countless medical tests where he has been poked, prodded, and pinned more than his younger brother asks for a treat (trust me, that is a lot. The kid has a sweet tooth that would have him swimming in a pool of Skittles if it was an option); or, waiting patiently for another seizure to stop. Watching the clock for the 6-hour mark, doctors determined the threshold to bring him into the hospital. Then, there were the times when an episode was short only to reprieve minutes later, which would also solicit a trip to the hospital. He has been seizure-free for nearly three years now, but I cannot separate him from this history. I question whether I ever will be able to and if letting go of this history is warranted. I do not have those answers; I am a Mamma bear, and my eyes are on her cubs.
There are also the adverse effects associated with going in and out of a comatose state so regularly and at such an early age. His lean body and lack of musculature, combined with such a history and other medical histories, make me see him as far more fragile than he really is. However, he continues to demonstrate his resilience. I am reminded that he does not know any difference between the life he leads to the more typical stream of development his sibling experiences.
The stature of my oldest is a constant reminder of some of his history. When a growth spurt is measured, his stature is that much more remarkable and indisputable evidence he is growing up.
To develop his social skills and enhance his fitness, we supported his desire to begin a paper route. With a client at the door, the first drop-off led to a 10-minute dance looking in the opposite direction and inching his way towards the door for the hand-off, after which he quickly ran to the next location. Then, there was yesterday. A client requested an additional paper, and without hesitation, he walked into the location, making eye contact clarified the query for future weeks with confidence, “would you like two papers every week, or just this week?” The client replied, “every week, please.” My oldest responded, “okay, I will have two papers for you every week.”
Is this the same child who inched his way towards a door for a drop-off, looking in the opposite direction just months prior? It is. This is further, perhaps more remarkable, indisputable evidence he is growing up.
When and how do we let how children go? We need to give them opportunities to be successful and to learn and grow. To FAIL — to experience the first attempt in learning.
We need to be present in experiencing their successes. We need affirmation that we are guiding them in the right direction. His actions and response, the confidence he displayed, “okay, I will have two papers for you every week,” offer such affirmation.
We need to maintain open lines of communication to hear their ideas, interests, and concerns. This will look different for everyone. For us, it is facilitating a paper route, putting the phone down when they want to tell us about their day, sitting beside them to watch a Pokémon episode, or playing a game of D & D Adventure Begins.
We need to follow through on our commitment to being there when they need us. This may be pulling a wagon filled with papers while a child is not physically able to; guiding which house to deliver to as a new routine becomes more familiar; a family bagging papers together on a rainy day in a cool garage; acknowledging and encouraging the “good job” being done along the route on a dreary pacific northwest winter day…
We need to accept that as parents, we are guides. We give them binoculars to take in the world from different perspectives: offering influence and freedom, but also offering them the opportunity to share the binoculars with others, their parents included, from time-to-time.
The paper route offered the perfect opportunity for both success and failure, and it was my child’s idea. It was his GREAT idea. When he brought the idea forward, my husband and I had ample hesitation as to whether or not he was ready and capable. The reality was and is, he is not — yet. Not alone, anyway. And that is okay; that is our place as his parents. It has been a bumpy (and wet) road, but a road of opportunity: an opportunity to develop skills towards potential independence.
Potential independence — writing this is evidence that this Mamma bear is learning that while nurturing her cub may look a little different, it is still nurturing. There is still a bond, an evolving bond, and providing an opportunity to share in success and failure is one means to help define when and how to let go. One means that highlights the when and how is not definite, it is evolving with circumstances. This is one tool and one perspective from my binoculars; what is in your viewfinder?
With grace, gratitude, and a wagon filled with papers en route to our next drop off…







