随女儿一同成长

There is a fine line between being an active， concerned parent and one that doesn’t know when to let go.

As my daughter， Nicole， prepares to leave home for college， I’m discovering how hard it is to stay on the right side of this line. While I cling to the apron strings connecting us， Nicole， eager to taste her independence， yanks at those strings， trying to loosen my grip. What results is an odd mother-daughter， push-me， pull-you kind of tango.

For the past couple years， it’s gone like this.

Mother’s question， junior year： “Have you thought about taking an advanced placement class so you can earn college credits？” Daughter’s response： “It’s environmental studies. I’m not interested in that.” Mother： “ Yeah， but you can earn three college credits.” Daughter： a loud sigh.

Daughter’s question， senior year： “Would you please edit this scholarship application？” Mother’s response： feverish writing for a long period. Daughter： “You did it again！ You’ve rewritten half my essay.” Mother’s sheepish reply： “I just made a few suggestions.” Daughter： “It’s my application， Mom. It’s my future， not yours.”

As graduation approached， Nicole and I reached a truce. She accepted that as her mother， I had a right to express my opinion and offer suggestions. I accepted that I had to trust her judgment and respect her choices.

I bit my lip a few times and Nicole shot me a few glares， but our truce held.

She was accepted to a great university. When the time came for orientation and registration， I played it cool.

I asked nonchalantly， “So， are you going to registration with your friends？” “Don’t you want to come with me？” Nicole asked， slightly panicked.

We went to an introductory session together， but then parents and students were separated.

“You may be paying the tuition，” a university official told the auditorium of parents. “But choosing classes really is the students’ responsibility.”

Evidently， I wasn’t the only parent having a hard time letting go. The night before， I had perused the course catalog and highlighted classes I thought looked good. As Nicole headed off to her session with an adviser， we agreed to meet for lunch before she registered. “Think about those courses I highlighted，” I called to her retreating back.

We met three hours later in the cafeteria. Nicole was glowing with excitement. “I have my entire schedule figured out，” she said. “Already？” I was taken aback， assuming she would want to discuss it with me first. “It’s great， Mom，” she continued. “Look at what I’m taking.”

I examined the schedule lying on the table. Nicole had not taken a single one of the classes I had suggested. Brushing aside my initial pang of disappointment， I looked more carefully. Every class she had chosen exactly suited her interests.

I sat back and studied my daughter as she looked excitedly around the cafeteria. I saw a mature， capable young woman with a keen mind and the ability to shape her future. She no longer needed her mom evaluating every decision she made. I felt proud， although still a bit melancholy.

I reflected on the lessons Nicole has struggled to learn over the past 18 years： responsibility， compassion， and hard work. There have been a few potholes along the way， but she is well-equipped and eager to embrace her future. The next step， I recognized， was mine to take. I brushed away a tear and mentally untied the apron strings， giving my daughter and myself the independence we both needed.

Sensing my mood， Nicole reached over and patted my hand. “You know， Mom， we’ll have to be in regular e-mail contact when I’m in school.” “Why’s that？” I asked as I struggled to get my emotions under control.“So we can chitchat about what’s happening in our lives， and I’ll probably need some advice now and then，” she said matter-of-factly. “Maybe you can drive up for the day sometime this fall， and we’ll do lunch.”

I smiled broadly， welcoming the birth of a new relationship with my now-adult daughter.

一个以积极的态度关心孩子的家长和一个不知道什么时候对孩子放手的家长之间，只有细微的一线之隔。

女儿妮科尔准备离家上大学时，我才发现要站在这条线的正确的一边太不容易了。我竭力用母女关系影响她，而渴望品尝独立滋味的妮科尔却奋力要摆脱我的束缚。到头来，母女俩像是跳起了一种别扭的你推我、我拉你的探戈舞。

过去的两年就是这样走过来的。

女儿还有两年要高中毕业了，我问：“你有没有考虑过参加高阶课程班，这样就可以先修一些大学学分？”女儿回答：“那是搞环境研究的，我才不感兴趣呢！”我说：“话虽这么说，可是你可以获得3个学分啊。”女儿长叹了一声。

高中毕业那年，女儿问：“你帮我修改一下奖学金申请书好吗？”我的回应是，忙忙碌碌地写了好长一段时间。女儿说：“你这不是重写了嘛！有一半都让你改了。”我满脸尴尬地回答：“我只提了几个建议罢了。”女儿说：“老妈，这是我的奖学金申请书。它事关我的前程，而不是你的。”

临近毕业了，我和妮科尔达成了停战协定。她承认，作为她的母亲，我有权发表看法，提出建议。我也承认，我得相信她的判断力，尊重她的选择。

有几次我强咬着嘴唇把话咽下了肚，妮科尔则狠狠地瞪了我几眼，可是我们的停战协定还维持着。

最后，她被一所名牌大学录取了。该到校注册参加迎新活动了，我还是不动声色。

我若无其事地问：“对了，你打算和朋友们一起去学校注册吗？”“你不想陪我一起去吗？”妮科尔问道，口气中略显惊慌。

我们一起听了校方的简介，但随后家长和孩子就被分开了。

一位大学的工作人员对在座的家长们说：“你们可以去付学费，可是选课是学生们自己的事。”

显然，舍不得放手的父母不只是我一个。头天晚上，我已经仔细研究了一番选课目录，把我认为不错的课程用彩笔作了标记。妮科尔转身跟随指导教师去选课时，我们约定在她注册前先一块儿吃午饭。我冲着她远去的背影喊道：“考虑一下我标出的那些课程。”

3个小时后我们在学校餐厅见了面。妮科尔非常兴奋，脸上泛着红光。她说：“我把课程全都选好了。”“全选好了？”我吃了一惊，还以为她会事先同我商量。她接着说：“老妈，太好了，看看我选的课。”

我看了一下桌上的课程表，我推荐的课程她竟然一门都没选。摆脱了最初的一阵失望后，我拿着课程表看得更仔细了。她选的每一门课都是她感兴趣的。

女儿兴奋地四下打量着餐厅，我则靠着椅背悠闲地坐在那里，端详着她。我眼前是一个成熟干练的女孩，她思维敏捷，有能力主宰自己的未来。她不再需要母亲对她所作的每一个决定评头论足了。我为她感到骄傲，尽管内心还有点失落。

我认真回顾了18年来妮科尔一路奋斗学会的东西：责任感、同情心和拼搏精神。一路上少不了磕磕绊绊，可是现在她已有充分准备，渴望拥抱未来。我意识到，下一步该我来迈了。我擦去眼泪，精神上放开束缚她的手，将我俩都需要的自主还给了女儿，也还给了我自己。

妮科尔察觉到了我的情绪，她伸过手来，轻轻地拍了拍我的手，说：“听我说，老妈，我在学校时，我们可要定期发电子邮件联系啊。”“干吗要发电子邮件？”我一边使劲控制着自己的情绪一边问。“这样我们可以聊聊各自生活里的事呀，我还时不时需要你指点呢。”女儿说这话时很平静，“也许今年秋天你可以开车到我这儿来待一天，咱们可以一起吃午饭。”

我笑得合不拢嘴，我同现在已是大人的女儿建立起了一种新的母女关系，真让人高兴。