Slides, Bikes and Elephants

Alex graduated from the University of Iowa two weeks ago. It was a joyous, tear-filled event that poured buckets of pride over me and her father. Not only did she graduate from my favorite college in the whole wide world, and majored in a demanding field which I hold close to my heart, but she graduated holding a compass: a compass facing her true north. Today, she's in India. Well, maybe the compass was facing east.

The first time she mentioned this trip, my heart dropped out of my chest. Aren't you a journalist now, Alex? Don't you know that women get raped and murdered there? That was my knee-jerk maternal reaction. Anytime our kids tell us they're going to do something, anything, with an inkling of risk, my optimistic brain turns very dark. Obviously.

Alex was always a cautious little girl.

Once when my sisters-in-law and I took our kids to the park, I had to coax her to have fun. My nephew had gone down the slide at least ten times. Alex sat at the top, contemplating whether it was really safe to go down. I stood at the bottom, trying to convince her she'd be okay. I promised I would catch her. She'd watched Mitch go down with no notable injuries. She was still skeptical. Eventually, she scooted her way down – not the most fun way to enjoy a slide, but she did it. Then she did it again, with a little less scooting and a little more sliding.

Teaching Alex to ride a bike a few years later had a similar theme. I can't remember exactly how old she was, but everyone else her age had mastered it. Finally, Doug took over. I simply couldn't convince her that she'd be okay – even if she did fall. It was one of those times our kids needed someone who was a little less patient and a little more militant. Even with Doug in command, Alex was still tentative. "Dad, you promise you won't let go?" I think Doug was sneaky in his response. He said something like, "I won't let you get hurt." Reluctantly, she let him push her off. And, of course, he let go. For the next few seconds she had no idea he wasn't holding on to her. When she checked behind to see if he was still there, she wrecked. And despite not having one scratch from the fall, she was furious. "You let go!" While she wouldn't admit it (not even to this day), we suspected a bit of pride in the accomplishment.

Now, she's off to India to help a journalist friend with a story. I have no doubt her curious nature will always lead her to some interesting adventures. And while my heartburn has set in while she's across the world, I have no regrets of convincing our cautious little daughter to take some risks. I'm quite proud of it, actually. She's come a long way from slides and bicycles. Now, she searching for an elephant. Literally. She literally wants to ride an elephant.

I hope she does.

The Spectrum of Anxiety: Prom to India

Cole's Junior Prom is over. Check that most over-celebrated high school event off the list for this year. Don't get me wrong. I love being involved with our kids' activities. And while co-chairing the after-prom party was kind of like having mud thrown in your face (in a good way), it really wasn't all that bad. Not that I'd ever do it again, Mrs. Heithoff. But I have to admit it. Helping to plan the after-prom party was nothing compared to the actual anxiety over my son's entire experience.

Prom Challenge #1: Would his tux be a skinny fit?
Prom Challenge #2: Would another date cancel right before the buzzer?
Prom Challenge #3: And finally, would his awful cold prevent him from getting through the night?

As it turned out...

kramer.cole kramer.

• Cole's tux fit like a glove. More specifically, it had a James Bond appeal without the pistol.
• His date did not cancel, and she was beyond lovely. He had a great time despite the fact that her boyfriend was actually at prom as well. (Long story.) 
• And his nasty cold turned out to be a bit of a blessing! To his parents, anyway. He got through casino night (under our watchful eye). And by 2:00 AM, he was too sick to attend any after-after prom party. Poor kid. (Whew! Thank God.)

worth the hassles.

Now on to other worries. There's this one that's been niggling at me. Especially when I pushed the banality of prom drama aside.

A few weeks ago, Alex casually mentioned she might be taking a trip to India. Just for a few weeks to help her friend with a journalism project.

Say what?

India! No, Alex! Haven't you read what happens to women over there?

Well, yes. She does read. Journalists read.

I get that she's an adult now, despite what our tax returns might say. So, we can't really forbid her from going on this so-called Pulitzer grant project. But certainly, she'll listen to us. I've been trying to formulate a coherent argument. It goes something like this:

"No, Alex. You can't go. We won't let you. Just because you want to experience a new world and write an in-depth article about social injustice in a remote part of an undeveloped country doesn't mean you should...Heck, why don't you join the Marines or the Peace Corp while you're at it?"

This is where I get stuck.

Is it wrong to discourage a child from pursuing a noble cause in favor of eliminating a parent's anxiety? Is it all that different from discouraging your kid to attend an after-after prom party to keep from getting sicker? Okay. Maybe it's a little different.

When Alex was a junior in high school, she saved her money and convinced us to let her go to Amsterdam. It was an amazing, enlightening experience for her while I suffered painstaking heartburn for the entire two weeks. Despite the pain in my chest, my mother's voice would ring in my head. "You raise kids to be independent." I believe that, in theory. I just can't quite let my heart

See that map on her wall?

embrace it.

But I will. It's the right thing to do. If she decides to go, I'll load up on Tums and ensure my fervent prayers reach across the world. And perhaps I'll preoccupy myself by helping Cole to figure out a date for homecoming next fall.