Every few months or so, parents are treated to a news cycle that tells us what we already suspect to be true: the way many of us parent harms our children. The most recent onslaught of “parent analysis” came courtesy of the recent college admissions scandal.

Having shocked approximately no one, this event highlighted how some celebrities and the uber rich feel the rules don’t apply to them. Unfortunately, I fear that the scandal will result in little tangible change to the admissions processes at our country's elite universities. It did, however, result in a few hot takes on why parents feel compelled to intervene in increasingly extreme ways on their children’s behalf.

The New York Times suggested that Aunt Becky wasn’t just using her wealth and influence to manipulate the admissions board at USC: she was participating in the phenomenon of snowplow parenting, the new “helicopter parenting.” Instead of hovering over our children’s lives and landing to tackle obstacles that pop up, snowplow parents run ahead at full speed, moving all obstacles out of the way.

I’ll take this opportunity to trademark my own parenting style: Roomba circa 2011 parenting. You know, where you blindly run into walls, generally sucking and occasionally getting stuck under the fridge.

Though we may never be in a position to bribe our child’s way into an elite school, we can reflect on the connection between the actions of the parents involved in the scandal and how everyday moms and dads approach their children’s challenges. In other words, how can we love our children fiercely and still let them experience the inevitable suffering that is part of the human condition?

[H]ow can we love our children fiercely and still let them experience the inevitable suffering that is part of the human condition?

“It is necessary for us to undergo many hardships to enter the kingdom of God.” (Acts 14:22)

I’m not equating the sting of Ivy League rejection with the acute suffering many children face daily, such as hunger and abuse. And I’m certainly not equating it to the suffering our Lord endured. What I am saying is that our children will experience challenges in their lives, and that we as mothers will have to let them suffer.

Preparing for my oldest to begin middle school this fall, we have entered into the stage where age-appropriate forgetfulness and carelessness can result in little sufferings (water bottle left behind during a game = thirst) and medium sufferings (low-quality work = poor math grade). But, I know that greater suffering is inevitable.

Waiting in the pick up line at school a few weeks ago, I turned the the Blessed Mother and asked her for prayers and guidance. Mama Mary is a frequent pick up line companion on stressful days. During my reflection, it became clear that I am called as a mom to do the difficult work of letting my children suffer, and increasingly so as they age. And, because I am not sinless as Mary was, it will be excruciatingly difficult.

I am called as a mom to do the difficult work of letting my children suffer

Pride and envy will get in the way and propel us to remove obstacles for our children so that they can achieve more. Love and empathy will also get in the way. We will remember what it felt like to be the only kid in class without a gym uniform, and bring it to our child’s school. We will remember the sting of a friend who suddenly left us for another group of kids, and be tempted to call the other child’s parent. We will remind, prompt, and nudge to protect our kids, both body and soul.

The model of our Blessed Mother isn’t a perfect solution to the toxic parenting environment we find ourselves in, but it’s a good start. As we strive to allow our children to experience the small sufferings of childhood, we prepare not just their hearts for greater suffering, but our own hearts, as well.