Pants-Free Parenting: Sometimes it is OK to let your kids fail

Over the holiday weekend, my family went to a water park. Within two minutes of arriving, my daughter made a friend. Perhaps it was their matching princess swimsuits or their enthusiastic impersonations of mermaids, but they immediately began to hold hands, giggle and splash in the water.

A few minutes later, my daughter sat next to her friend at the top of a small waterslide. 'I can't go! I'm too afraid!” she wailed. Her new friend looked over at her, wailing in her waterslide agony, and then gave her a shove.

My daughter went racing down the slide. When she stood up in the water she was laughing and gave her friend a thumbs up. 'Thanks for that,” she shouted.

The father of the other girl came racing over to lecture his daughter on pushing. I don't like telling anyone how to parent, but I spoke up. 'It's OK, my kid needed the shove.”

He shook his head. 'No. She can't push.” And then took his daughter away in order to enforce a timeout.

I understand the parenting that had to go on in that instance. That father was being proactive and teaching his kid about life. I completely respect him. I might have even done it myself, except that I recently adopted a new parenting motto: Let them fail.

In her new book, 'The Gift of Failure,” parent and teacher Jessica Lahey argues that more than parenting, peer interactions ultimately determine the success and failure of our children. And these interactions are found in schools, playgrounds and, in this case, the water park.

She writes: 'One missed lesson in the sandbox is no big deal, of course, but when that child grows up under the wing of parents who continue to rescue - from playground dust-ups, to tween misunderstandings, and the inevitable volatility of adolescent friendships - that child becomes an adult with no clue about how to negotiate, placate, reason with, and stand up to other adults.”

After reading Lahey's book, I decided to take a step back from immediately interfering in my daughter's play with other children. Like the water park parent, I've often moderated sand throwing or slide climbing or stepped in to tell a child to 'Watch out!” But the argument that I was doing my children a disservice by mediating their interactions struck a chord.

All spring, I've been trying to get my baby not to walk in front of swings. A few days ago, he did it and this time I wasn't quick enough to save him from the head bonk. He cried, but he's been more careful ever since.

I was raised the second oldest of eight. I often remember running to my mom to complain about a sibling, only to have her say, 'Figure it out yourselves.” Sometimes this meant freezing an offending sibling out of our play. Other times this meant exacting justice by putting gross food in the sheets of a mean sibling. The tactic worked like a warning from the kid mafia. Instead of a horse head it was meatloaf, but the point was the same: Don't be a jerk. And it was a message received loud and clear.

You could argue that this lack of parenting is precisely what is wrong with me. I did have one college roommate drop out to join the Renaissance Faire after all. But the argument is persuasive: If we as parents micromanage every aspect of our children's relationships, they won't learn when to push a friend or when to hold back.

As my daughter sat on that waterslide I knew I wasn't going to rescue her. Part of my new motto to allow my kids to fail is to let them flounder before I step in. And I know from past experience that even if I had encouraged and wheedled my daughter down from the slide, she would have resisted and I would have had to take her down. We both would have been frustrated. No slides conquered. The push from the friend was just what she needed.

I have friends who 'push” me all the time - people who often challenge and critique me, pushing me to go places I'd otherwise be too afraid. I value those friendships and the well-timed push. And as my daughter gets older, I hope she learns their value as well.

Perhaps the father was correct in punishing his daughter for the push. But she was also right to push. I spent the rest of the day watching my daughter go down all the slides at that park - nothing stopped her.

Lyz Lenz is a writer, mother of two and hater of pants. Email her at eclenz@gmail.com or find her writing at LyzLenz.com.