June 10, 2008
Black Hawk
I am a helicopter mom. There’s no way around it. I’m not the type who hovers for no reason; I believe in letting my kids get their feet wet and their hands dirty. But I can’t just walk away.
Henry was invited to a birthday party today, at the club pool. He swam with his friends while Charlie and I played in the shallow end. They jumped off the diving board and shot each other with squirt guns and played catch in the pool. I was keeping one eye on Henry, all the time, because that’s what I do, because I am that mom, and because I know my son.
He doesn’t always read other kids correctly, or see what they see. I don’t know how else to explain it, but that’s what happens.
Charlie and I were playing catch, and in between tosses I watched Henry and his friends. Henry was holding the ball and another kid was trying to pull it away from him and a different kid was trying to help the first kid and Henry was yelling at them to stop. And then he started to cry.
He knew I was there, watching, because I always am; he dragged himself out of the pool, head down, trying not to cry in front of his friends. And when he got to me, he wrapped himself around my waist and buried his face in my side.
The other kids apologized and called for him to come back and play and tried to draw him back into their game; he tried to play with them, but he couldn’t recover. When they all started lining up to play games, he came over to where Charlie and I were sitting on the lounge chairs and curled up in my lap and hid his head under a towel and asked to go home.
So we did.
I have moments where I feel like a really good parent — not often, really, because most of the time I feel like I am just barely getting by, but every once in a while I step back and realize that I’m not doing such a bad job. I’m hovering for all the right reasons, I think, like a Black Hawk helicopter, waiting to scoop up the wounded and triage them. I can’t stop them from getting hurt — that’s part of life — but I can pick up the pieces afterward.
Even though the triage breaks my heart a little every time.
Posted by Susan @ 10:01 pm • Henry&Charlie
RSS feed for comments on this post.
TrackBack URI
June 10th, 2008 at 11:06 pm, All Adither Says:
Nicely said.
I am too. I justify it by telling myself that my son is severely allergic to so many foods that I want to be there at in case of an emergency at all times. But really, I just want to be there.
June 10th, 2008 at 11:26 pm, Angella Says:
Oh, Susan.
This hurt my heart. Only because I can relate.
Now that Graham is in school, he is wide open for hurts. All I can do is be there to put salve on the wounds.
You are a great, great Momma.
June 10th, 2008 at 11:27 pm, margalit Says:
Having two quirky kids with issues, I have to ask this question. What would have happened if you had NOT been there to scoop him up? Would he have been able to bounce back or would he have lost it completely? If he can bounce back on his own, then step back. If he can’t, then scoop him up until he can. But you gotta let him try. You don’t want a middle school kid that can’t self comfort. Working through the anxiety and inability to read other kids is so hard. One of my kids still has a lot of trouble with facial expressions and misses a lot. But we work on it all the time. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve been places and I’ve asked about a person we see. “Does that person look happy? Sad? Angry?” Knowing how to identify expressions and feelings will help him to avoid those little conflicts.
But when his friends call him back and he can’t go. That would be worrying to me. Really worrying.
June 10th, 2008 at 11:32 pm, Inzaburbs Says:
I was thinking just that as I was reading - you are hovering for the right reasons.
My eldest has the same challenge of not always seeing what makes sense to other kids. I support him, and tell myself that I was the same kind of kid and it all turned out OK - but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch .
June 10th, 2008 at 11:34 pm, Kristin Says:
Nolan tends to be overly friendly with kids ,and I’ve experienced that exact feeling of heartbreak watching him get his feelings hurt. You’re an excellent mama, propellers always going.
June 11th, 2008 at 12:25 am, Jenny Says:
You know what Susan? Someday many years from now your boys won’t remember all the little hurts along their paths. They’ll only remember that their mom was always there for them.
I think you’re doing it right.
June 11th, 2008 at 1:12 am, Lisa Says:
Jenny said what I wanted to say - only better.
June 11th, 2008 at 7:22 am, Sue Says:
Way to helicopter, woman! You are a great mom! My oldest also has his issues, and yeah, maybe he would survive if I wasn’t there, but I don’t want him to. If he needs me, I want to be there. For as long as I can be. (When he gets to college, I may back off a bit… we’ll see…)
June 11th, 2008 at 7:53 am, Lori Says:
My mom was a helicopter when I was growing up. And though I didn’t always need or want her there for whatever reason, looking back I am so touched by her presence. It took a lot of sacrifice on her part and for that I am truly thankful. I hope your sons will recognize that about you when they’re older.
June 11th, 2008 at 7:54 am, 3carnations Says:
I stay at parties, too. He’s at the age where about half the parents stay, and half the parents don’t. I don’t feel comfortable to leave him with parents of friends I don’t know well, and the parents I DO know well, I’d like to stay there with anyway. He doesn’t mind that we’re there. I would mind if I wasn’t.
June 11th, 2008 at 8:13 am, standing still Says:
Party? Water? I’d stay. I also second Margalit — it is a process and the letting go comes as the self advocacy grows.
June 11th, 2008 at 8:22 am, Shan Says:
Oof. I’m the same kind of mom, though my oldest is only just turned 4. She has a very sensitive nature, and social situations are often tough for her so far, particularly groups. I can imagine some scenarios just like this in our future.
June 11th, 2008 at 9:20 am, Ceece Says:
yes! someone who explains it well. I’m not a big fan of referring to an earlier thing I wrote, but I tried to tackle this same topic a few days ago.
Give him a big high five from Conner (now he swears thats the only thing that makes him feel better right now, hooray for 3!)
June 11th, 2008 at 9:28 am, RuthWells Says:
My boys both have Asberger’s, and very seldom see things the way the rest of the world does. With the older one now in middle school, I have started transitioning from Helicopter Mom to GoodYear Blimp Mom. (Wait, that doesn’t sound right….)
What I mean, of course, is that it does become necessary to step back a bit, at some point. You’ll know when it’s time.
June 11th, 2008 at 9:54 am, Mir Says:
There’s nothing wrong with knowing your kid and following his cues. Anyone who pays attention to what you say about your kids knows you’re not just scooping and running at the first sign of trouble; as for what would have happened if you weren’t there, let me guess: It would’ve escalated and he would’ve ended up hysterical? I wonder how I know that. Oh, right, because you and I have the SAME KID.
(You’d think he’d be more tired, leading that double life between your house and mine. Perplexing.)
June 11th, 2008 at 10:55 am, Aisha Says:
You’re doing it exactly right. My mom is a helicopter parent when I need her to be - she’s one of those mom’s that can tell when I don’t want to be somewhere anymore or who will jump in when I need her to step up for me. I appreciate it more than I can ever really express. (She calls herself a black hawk helicopter mom also - there for the emergencies, and that’s pretty much it.)
June 11th, 2008 at 12:23 pm, Velma Says:
This is exactly what I’m trying to do with my kids. My daughter has reached the age where she is starting to want me to leave, and so we are stretching those wings. My son still needs me around as a SERZ. That would stand for “Safe Emotional Recovery Zone.”
June 11th, 2008 at 2:06 pm, ame i. Says:
A helicopter mom raised by helicopter parents here. I let my girls swim without me around at my parents’ apartment because the water is only 4 feet deep and my dad is King of the Helicopter Dad/Granddads.
I will let my girls have sleepovers with most of their friends. There is one mom, though, that I would never let my 8 year old stay with if I am not around. I have seen her lack of observation too many times. As a toddler, one of her sons was hit in the head by a swing and knocked down three times before she noticed. This same little boy drowned in another friend’s pool two years ago. Mom was inside holding her newest baby and chatting away. They thought all the children were in the house, but this little boy figured out how to unlock the door leading to the pool. By the time they realized he was missing and thought to check the pool, it was too late.
Anyone and everyone can call me overprotective, parnoid, whatever. I’d rather be called these things than be a grieving mother.
June 11th, 2008 at 2:16 pm, Liz Says:
It must be “Blog About Your Helicopter Parent Tendencies Day” today. We’re on the same wave length, my dear. We can’t protect them from everything. However, I think it’s natural for parents to want to cushion the fall. Even if it’s just a little. Brava!
June 11th, 2008 at 4:14 pm, Poppy Buxom Says:
I’ve got two with Asperger’s. One is doing extremely well socially–the other still needs help with transitions and sticky moments. She’ll be starting Junior Choir in the hall and I already know that when she goes to rehearsal, I’ll be reading a book in the hall. Just in case.
No one knows your kid’s strengths and weaknesses better than you do. Listen to your heart and don’t worry about independence issues yet.
June 11th, 2008 at 4:58 pm, Nina Says:
Okay, my heart ached reading that.
Poor Henry…I think it’s great that he tried to go play with them again. And I think it’s great that he felt safe enough to acknowledge that he couldn’t and needed to go home.
June 11th, 2008 at 7:03 pm, Mocha Says:
Henry knows his limitations and knows what he needs. That’s damn good parenting right there if you ask me.
Hold your head up, lady. You are doing something right.
xoxo
June 12th, 2008 at 7:02 am, katrin Says:
It’s all about being in tune with your own needs and the needs of your family. It’s about knowing when to step in and when to step back.
And you know this lesson already: we have to let our children make — and learn from — their own mistakes. If we fix everything for them, they will grow up dependent and insecure. I think that’s the hardest thing for a mom to do… letting her child fail.
Katrin
www.momstimeouts.com
co-author, Mothers Need Time Outs, Too
June 12th, 2008 at 8:11 am, Kyran Says:
so very lovely.
June 12th, 2008 at 8:51 am, blackbird Says:
You give helicopter moms a good name.
June 12th, 2008 at 8:42 pm, Tracy Says:
Sounds like you are getting the important stuff right. Good job.
June 15th, 2008 at 1:04 am, :::::::::::: wife mom maniac :::::::::::: Says:
I think you handled it beautifully. You didn’t go in and scoop him up, you let him go, and when he needed you, you were there for him, and warmly received him and offered him comfort when he needed it. Parents should be the people kids know that they can come to with their problems, and you are letting him know from the beginning that you will be there for him when he needs you. Beautiful.
June 15th, 2008 at 9:48 pm, Marinka Says:
To me, helicopter parenting is unnecessary hovering, and your vigilance clearly wasn’t. That was fantastic instinct on your part. Your son is very lucky.
June 19th, 2008 at 5:07 pm, Aimee Greeblemonkey Says:
Lovely post. And I am much like you.