A small body sailed into my bed and got as close to me as possible. “Alligators again?” I asked sleepily. She nodded as I settled the covers over her and held her close until she stopped trembling and eventually fell asleep. I couldn’t figure out why she was so afraid of alligators. Steve Irwin, Crocodile Hunter, was her hero. She once asked me what I wanted her to be when she grew up and I replied, as always, “Whatever God wants you to be.” She asked, “What if He wants me to be like Steve?” I said, “Well, if that’s what He wants, that’s fine.” And yet, she continued having nightmares two to three nights a week for months.
Being afraid is part of childhood. I remember my own fears of the monsters in the closet. You know, the ones who can see you if the door isn’t closed all the way? And those under the bed, well, everyone knows you have to jump way out from the edge so they won’t get you.
The fear, or lack thereof, was different with each of out three children. Our middle one got a toddler bike helmet as a gift from my parents. He loved it, wore it all the time for two weeks. It was probably the only time of his early childhood he had no bruises on his head. He feared nothing, well, almost nothing.
I remember one spring day I had all the windows open in the house. It was nap time and I was doing housework. Suddenly, I heard “Help!” from the back yard and looked out to see one of the kids from down the street standing under a myrtle bush with her arms stretched over her head. I ran outside and discovered my middle one hanging upside down by the hem of his shorts. That and her support from underneath were the only things keeping him from falling on his head. I extracted him, set him down in front of me, bent to eye level, and asked, “Where are you supposed to be?” “In bed,” he said. “Go there. Now.” He shot into the house and into bed. It frightened him so much no punishment was needed.
Our oldest, on the other hand, was afraid of many things. Bugs, roller coasters, log flumes, the Jurassic Park ride at Islands of Adventure-I talked her into it on a junior high band trip. “It’s just a water ride. You ride in the boat and things pop up out of the water and spray you,” I said, pointing to the video they show in the wait line. “You’ll see. It’ll be fine!” Who knew there was a five story plunge in the dark at the end into a Tyrannosaurus Rex’s mouth? The picture flashing on the screen at the exit for us to consider purchasing showed the abject terror on her face. She’s still bitter about that one.
She got a bike for Christmas one year and Kent took her into the street in front of our house to teach her to ride. Early 
into the lesson, she fell headfirst into a storm drain. She was terrified. After that, she refused to ride her bike at all. When her younger brother got a bike and immediately learned to ride it, I could tell she was jealous, but she adamantly insisted that she hated bike riding. One Sunday afternoon, I decided it was time for her to face her fear. Kent and I took her to Hickory Dickory Park, to a large grassy area, and made her keep trying, in spite of her loud protestations, until she finally did it. It was a good parenting decision. She learned that she could overcome her fear and even if she chose never to ride again, she now had a choice.
Our kids all had very different ways of handling fear from their earliest days, but we pushed them to do hard things as each was ready. With encouragement, they all learned to face difficult challenges. Now, as adults, the youngest loves outdoor adventure, the oldest travels the world on her own, and the middle one is seeing the other side of parenting as he teaches his own daughter to handle scary things.
As for the alligators, it turned out someone had told our youngest a story about a group of golfers who encountered a monster alligator on the golf course. Apparently all but one of them had gone for help, leaving one player behind to keep an eye on the reptile. The watcher got eaten. Not the best story material for a five year old and it took months to get to the bottom of her fright.
Helping kids face their fears equips them to eventually leave the nest and have a healthy life on their own. It’s the nature of the job to push them out of the nest and it comes with the territory. As we savor the snuggles, cherish the moments, and enjoy the ride, we as parents have to face our own fears and push ourselves to do the hard thing as well, because while parenting is a blessing, it also includes a heartbreaking part of the job-working yourself out of it.
