When your kids are in crisis, it doesn't matter if they're four or twenty-four. There's nothing you wouldn't do to take away their pain; to help them climb out of the hole they've dug themselves into. Even if you do manage to squelch that initial instinct to jump in and take over, you often can't help caving in the end. It must have something to do with that damn umbilical cord. Even after it's cut, it's still there, invisibly tugging you in the direction of that piece of your body that's now walking around on its own two feet.
I have to constantly remind myself that my "kids" are now adults. They should be able (and I should encourage them) to handle difficulties on their own. It's not as if they don't do their best to keep me in line. Those innocent eyes that once looked to me to make it all better have been replaced by icy looks that clearly say 'Don't even think about it'. Even if they want my help; even if they're going down for the third time, they're loath to let me in on it.
So, we lionesses have to be vigilant. We have to figure out how to separate the serious from the trivial. We can't go around roaring about everything. Because there will be times when you know you have to step in. There will be times when you feel in the deepest part of your gut that if you don't do something; if you don't help your child stop what they're doing/who they're seeing, something bad is going to happen. There will be times you just have to get in their face and stay there, shining a big fat light in their eyes until they finally see it.
This is one of those times.
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