water bottle battle

When my son Finnley was in 8th grade and practicing for the upcoming soccer season, we had a battle over water bottles.
 
He was playing during the very hot summer months and he was also really struggling to keep track of his things. He lost his water bottle within the first couple days of practice and searched the lost and found, but no luck. So he took another one and I made threats about what would happen if he lost this one, and then he lost it.
 
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. And lots of grumpy feelings going around. 
 
Until Finnley told me he wasn’t going to bring any water bottles to practice anymore and that it was fine and “no big deal.” I imagined him dying of thirst or drinking up all his poor friends’ water, but I threw my hands in the air. 
 
And then, at the first game of the season, it all made sense.
 
Finnley came out of the game, panting and with red cheeks, and he headed over to the big yellow jug for filling up water bottles that was sitting at the edge of the bench. 

He flopped down on his back and slowly shimmied himself in the grass so that his head was perfectly lined up under the jug's water spigot but not touching it. It took some maneuvering, but when he was all lined up, he turned on the spigot and drank to his little heart’s content.
 
I think I yelled out loud Ahhhhh, I get it! across the field. 
 
Because something clicked in my brain and heart that day—
 
Finnley knew how to solve his problem (and in a way I never would have thought of!), and life got a whole lot more magical when I trusted that. And, not for nothing, our relationship has really thrived when I've been able to remember and walk this principle out over the years. Life changing, actually. 

What do you think? Have you thrown your hands up in the air only to realize that was exactly what needed to happen?

With care,
Brianna

photo by @willianjusten