helicopter mom

I tend towards humor around here, but was re-reading some things the other day and realized that YOU, gentle reader, might not know the other side of me so well. The one that takes, very seriously, this job that I have been gifted with. The job of mothering these three precious beings. Actually, I do think you get it, but let's be clear. I can laugh and joke and see the humor in say, Sharon and Karen, primarily because I am so darn intrigued by their every developmental milestone. I balance the need to let them explore their headstrong personalities with the desire to protect their fragile little emo-systems. Yes, I just made that word up and I don't even have to explain because you guys are so darned smart.

I do not helicopter. I am the opposite.

I believe in freedom. I believe that my children are pretty good decision makers and I want to let them flex those wings as often as possible. I believe that if they make a bad decision, they will learn from it, and move forward.

I was at a soccer game the other day. A little girl, probably seven or eight, was sitting next to her mom. She wanted to run to the edge of the field and pick some dandelions, about 50 feet away. In my mind, it would be the perfect thing for a little girl to do during a double header. My child, the same age approximately, was roller blading on the bike path by the river (out of sight and ALONE in this cruel world!) and I was so happy for him to have that chance because we have no concrete at home.

The mom, in a voice for all to hear, wanted to have 'a little talk' first. They talked about stranger danger and 'men we don't know' and never leaving sight of her. Did she remember their policy about strangers?Was she going to talk to anyone? Was she going to come straight back?

'Yes, no, yes'. said the little girl, a little less excited than she had been minutes before.

Finally, the mom let her go. She ran as fast as she could, picked a few flowers and ran back. 30 seconds maybe. The mom swooped her up and told her proud she was and how incredibly amazing she was. It went on and on.

Whaaahh?

Do we want to mother from a position of fear or one of faith? Do we want our children to believe that the world is primarily, scary and bad? That the dandelion patch is a potential mine field? Our language and words are so powerful.

I'm not sure what was more troubling? The lack of common sense, the fear-based tactics, the boogey man logic, the posturing around the conversation, the excessive praise for a simple action, the lack of faith, or the loss of the innocence of a childhood.

Mostly I just felt sad for the little girl.

What do you think?

Here's the good news. People are overwhelmingly good. Crime is at an all time low. Statistically,  the metaphorical 'strike of lightening' that we train our children to be waiting for at every turn is rarely going to strike. So very rarely. Almost never, statistically speaking. Just because it's our worst fear does not mean that it's rational, healthy or smart to project it onto our child. Take a deep breath. Watch them, don't scare them. Trust and believe. Chances are, odds are, the man by the dandelions is somebodies daddy.

And this is something to ponder.

The energy that we put out comes back to us.

It does.

Be careful what you attract.

We get to choose! Life's beautiful that way.