I often say that I have never actually met a helicopter parent. At least not one who describes themself that way. Everyone KNOWS a helicopter parent -- one who hovers and intrudes and smothers -- but they are always someone ELSE.
I can't say that anymore.
Meet Lorraine Duffy Merkl, whose essay here on HuffPost Parents starts with Merkl, a Manhattan mother of two, embracing the title. She sometimes provides her own sound effects, she writes, like the "whirring noise of rapidly spinning propellers." When one of her son's teachers describes her as "intense," she takes that as an accolade. " 'Intense' is how I get things done," she writes.
And Merkl certainly gets things done:
I am always the first mommy on line signing up for some class, getting Luke the books he needs. I have woken up at the pre-wee hours to stand on line for a Miley Cyrus book signing at Barnes & Noble and Justin Bieber tickets at Macy's. Whatever. My intensity has served them well up to now. For what some might deem "the least little thing" I am calling or emailing a teacher or administrator to make sure neither of them is being short-changed.
We often reveal more about ourselves than we intend when we write. And while Merkl's piece is about how she understands it's time to pull up on the stick, her words make clear of just how extreme a case she is.
Take her 17-year-old son's job search this summer. Luke applied for a position at a local tech store, and when he hadn't heard back within three days, Merkl made a follow-up phone call to the hiring manager. The result was an interview, which Luke apparently attended without his mother, although he seems to have provided her email address as his contact because she was the one who told him the news a few days later.
"We got an email about the internship," she said.
"Did I get it?"
"No."
Luke took the disappointment with equanimity. His mother, however, "wanted to die" and "started crying." Nowhere in her piece, though, does it seem to occur to her that recruiters tend not to hire candidates who make their moms part of the process.
Lorraine, I feel your pain. I have long believed that the criticism of parents who are more than a little involved in their children's lives is unfair. After all, we uberparents didn't pop up in a vacuum. Helicoptering grew from a context -- a world where our children seem to need us more, to keep them safe, and shepherd them to activities and help them navigate a more complex landscape. We expect this of ourselves, and others expect it from us -- as seen by how quick we are to jump on any parent who doesn't watch and protect and facilitate.
Then, one day, it is expected that we stop. Cold turkey. This happens on a day when our child turns 18. Or applies to college. Or looks for his first job,
Lorraine, in your essay you agree that it is past time to let go (of Luke, at least; you seem pleased to have four more years in which to pilot your daughter).
Yes, it is time. And I'd like to ask a favor. Would you write periodically about how it goes during the coming year? As a rare self-identifying example of the species Pareantus Helicopterus, you have so much to offer the rest of us about how to disengage, and cut our engines, and a cautionary tale about why not to get in this deep in the first place.
Follow Lisa Belkin on Twitter: www.twitter.com/lisabelkin
For me, one of the hardest things about being a parent has been identifying the difference between a situation where I just needed to let my daughter struggle, and a situation where I needed to step in. Children -- especially young children -- need their parents' advocacy. This was certainly true when, in third grade, my daughter was being bullied, and I made a complete pest of myself at her school. It was the right to do, and I'm sure of it.
There have been other situations that weren't as clear. It's hard to step back and watch your kid have the same struggles you did, making the same mistakes you did. But, I've learned that it's part of growing up. Childhood isn't always idyllic. That's how we learn to handle adversity.
Helicopter parenting didn't grow from a "context," it grew from a collective mindset. An anxious, obsessive mindset that, with some effort, we can overcome to ensure that our children grow up to be resilient and able to cope with adult life.
I was told to figure things out for myself, so I'd be ready for full adulthood in less than two years, so I did. I had plenty of money and full time access to a car, which was helpful in being independent, but I mostly was on my own. Therefore, while it's different with my 19 year old, who is autistic, and I do kind of helicopter him while navigating Vocational Rehabilitation and similar minefields, my strongest pull is to make sure the older ones can be fine without me.
These parents are doing their kids no favors. And honestly, I'm mystified why so many of my grown peers put up with it.
http://www.amber-hinds.com
If you leave 'unparenting' till your child is 18 you are doing him/her a big disservice. Are you sure this is not about being self centered and wanting to try and live your child's life for them? BIG problems if you do that!