What Was I Thinking?

Hey Friend | Daily Letter July 9th

Jul 10, 2026

Hey Friend,

So, yesterday I knowingly abandoned my children at our local bouldering gym.

I am there every single day for one practice or another. It’s basically a second home. Yesterday, all four of them wanted to climb. Two of them were practicing with their team and the other two were just having fun on their own.

In the chaos of summer activities, I failed to plan ahead and forgot to bring something to eat while they climbed for two hours, so with about an hour left I told the kids I was leaving and they could all bike home together at 6:30.

You must know, my kids are basically the boxcar children. It’s a series of books based on four brave children who seek out adventures and solve mysteries. They are completely fine, and sometimes prefer, to be on their own.

They range in age from about eight years old to nearly fourteen. They can bike around the city without me, take themselves to their dad’s house, to the grocery store, to the park, to school, and to climbing practice. They can navigate traffic lights and bike lanes, and they know how to get home from pretty much any place in town.

About 30 minutes after leaving the gym, I received a message. I had been caught. Why were my children left unattended at the gym? Two of them were not old enough to be climbing without an adult present. Two older siblings didn’t count.

I wave of guilt, then the horror of what I'd done set in, should I bike back there as day I could? What would a good mother do?

She would have never left, that's what.

Instead I messaged the oldest one and told her to tell the two younger ones to leave the gym NOW.

I knew the rule. So what was I thinking?

I still walked out of the gym, thankful to be leaving my children to do what they loved. Thankful, we were entering a season where I did not need to hover, worry about their every move. Finally, finally, in a stage where they could have some sense of autonomy and confidence.

I know, I know. The public bouldering gym probably wasn’t the best place for us to explore the edges of their summer freedom and see how far the rules could be stretched.

As their mom, I knew they would be fine for that last hour at the gym. We could message back and forth (with their Garmin watches) if anything happened.

Getting caught without my children made me feel sick to my stomach, I’m still stewing over it today.

I feel terrible. I am such an irresponsible mother. I mean, what kind of mother leaves her four well-behaved, climbing obsessed children at the public gym to take care of themselves and bike home together when they’re done?

Apparently, I do.

The rules are there for everyone’s safety and sanity. We can’t have kids running feral in public. We especially can’t have them climbing without supervision of a parent, even though they can bike home on their own.

I know it’s a liability issue.

I know the rules are there for a reason to protect people and businesses and bank accounts.

I know if every mother in town assumed they could just let loose a little bit more and trust in her kids competence and abilities when it was appropriate, things might get out of hand. It might make everyone else around her kids a lot more up tight, uncomfortable, and nervous.

Or maybe not?

I don’t know.

All I know is today the good girl and good mother vibes are coming on strong.

I feel that familiar strangled feeling again. My chest is tight and the shame lingers heavy on my shoulders.

Ask any mother, if our heart is beating, the underlying pressure to be with our kids is also there, keeping us tethered to the ground, to their bodies, to this reality, to the very appropriate rules.

When we get caught exercising more freedom than what is allowed, when we break the expectations of good mother, things get really weird for everyone.

Sadly, today, I feel a fresh wave of determination to make sure I never ever let that happen again.

I know I will relax again, but not today. I can't.

Today, I’m aware just how close I am to being found out for the negligent mother that I am.