I’ve been reflecting on my son’s current obsession with collecting football cards. He’s spending all his money on them — money mostly given to him by his grandparents — and while part of me feels uneasy about it, another part of me sees it as a pretty normal part of childhood.

There’s something in the way he lights up when opening a new pack, that hit of excitement and anticipation. Sure, it’s a dopamine hit — but isn’t that what so many hobbies start from? He’s proud of what he’s built up, and even if the cards aren’t overly expensive, it’s not really about the money. It’s about ownership, pride, and choosing something for himself. That in itself feels like a lesson worth learning.

I’ve had some boundaries around it, though. I don’t allow him to take the collection to school. He was really annoyed about that — understandably — but I saw how devastated he was once when someone ripped one of his cards. If he lost the whole file, it would be a major emotional collapse, and the truth is, I might not have the space to support him through something so easily avoidable.

I explained to him: “You can’t bring it to school, but you’re welcome to show Riley if you want.” Riley’s the mate across the road. He did show him, even though Riley wasn’t especially interested. But he got what he needed — the ability to share and be seen. That mattered.

It’s moments like this that show me we’re doing an okay job. He’s learning. He’s experiencing pride. He’s choosing how to spend his money. And I’m learning, too — to not overreact, to set boundaries with care, and to recognize that sometimes, good parenting is about letting things unfold, trusting that the little decisions matter.

I don’t think anyone’s parenting journey is perfect. But I feel good about this one.