Hi. My name is Kimberly and I am a helicopter mom.
Hi, Kimberly.
By definition, a helicopter mom is a parent who hovers over her children and becomes too involved in their lives. I confess: this revelation was no surprise. What was surprising, however, is how hovering over my children has made them dependent on me in ways where independence is the norm. As the product of a stay-at-home mom, it was my destiny to follow suit. So for close to ten years, I basked in that position; when I returned to the workforce, I witnessed my enabling.
Recently over breakfast with my family, we engaged in our usual round table discussion. After taking care of business about school, calendar events, and chores, the dialogue shifted and each child had their say. While my daughter mapped out her wish list of places to go, people to see, and things to do, my sons honestly shared that I was “doing too much.”
That expression is the most common of vernacular amongst our youth today. “Doing too much” has different contextual meanings. The following are all such examples:
· Becoming a flash mob of one in an aisle at Target as I sing Fame and my children look the other way;
· Tickling my son while he’s trying to play the Wii;
· Spotting a French speaking security guard in the grocery store, telling him my son speaks
French, too, and encouraging the two to converse.
Simply put, my sons craved just a little space. They needed me to trust my expectations will be met without the consistent reminders laced with frustration. They wanted to spread their wings and fly, not have them clipped. So, I obliged and for seven consecutive days I stopped “doing too much.”
Letting go, albeit briefly, was truly an art. It required me to relax, relate, and release so my sons could…breathe. The move was so spontaneous it left me with very little time to give my game plan thought. Yet, I kept moving forward and developed my approach around these three important components:
1. Believe. Every decision begins with a thought. I had to believe I was capable of letting go. I had to believe that, even if they found themselves at a cross roads, they would employ their internal GPS and navigate themselves accurately.
2. Trust. By hovering over my children, I demonstrated a certain lack of trust. All things considered, the tasks assigned were not foreign. They’ve demonstrated responsibility in the past. Why not trust them to go forth in like manner?
3. Shift. Less hovering equates with more time on my hands. My newfound freedom caused me to shift my attention to tasks I’ve left incomplete. I even managed to get in much needed “Mom-me” time. I never knew a 2005 movie could be so good!
The insight I gained is too numerous to name. So, let’s just say this helicopter mom has landed.
Hi, Kimberly.
By definition, a helicopter mom is a parent who hovers over her children and becomes too involved in their lives. I confess: this revelation was no surprise. What was surprising, however, is how hovering over my children has made them dependent on me in ways where independence is the norm. As the product of a stay-at-home mom, it was my destiny to follow suit. So for close to ten years, I basked in that position; when I returned to the workforce, I witnessed my enabling.
Recently over breakfast with my family, we engaged in our usual round table discussion. After taking care of business about school, calendar events, and chores, the dialogue shifted and each child had their say. While my daughter mapped out her wish list of places to go, people to see, and things to do, my sons honestly shared that I was “doing too much.”
That expression is the most common of vernacular amongst our youth today. “Doing too much” has different contextual meanings. The following are all such examples:
· Becoming a flash mob of one in an aisle at Target as I sing Fame and my children look the other way;
· Tickling my son while he’s trying to play the Wii;
· Spotting a French speaking security guard in the grocery store, telling him my son speaks
French, too, and encouraging the two to converse.
Simply put, my sons craved just a little space. They needed me to trust my expectations will be met without the consistent reminders laced with frustration. They wanted to spread their wings and fly, not have them clipped. So, I obliged and for seven consecutive days I stopped “doing too much.”
Letting go, albeit briefly, was truly an art. It required me to relax, relate, and release so my sons could…breathe. The move was so spontaneous it left me with very little time to give my game plan thought. Yet, I kept moving forward and developed my approach around these three important components:
1. Believe. Every decision begins with a thought. I had to believe I was capable of letting go. I had to believe that, even if they found themselves at a cross roads, they would employ their internal GPS and navigate themselves accurately.
2. Trust. By hovering over my children, I demonstrated a certain lack of trust. All things considered, the tasks assigned were not foreign. They’ve demonstrated responsibility in the past. Why not trust them to go forth in like manner?
3. Shift. Less hovering equates with more time on my hands. My newfound freedom caused me to shift my attention to tasks I’ve left incomplete. I even managed to get in much needed “Mom-me” time. I never knew a 2005 movie could be so good!
The insight I gained is too numerous to name. So, let’s just say this helicopter mom has landed.
Kimberly K. Parker is the President and CEO of Writing Momma Publishing, LLC (www.writingmomma.com). On December 10, 2011, she is hosting a workshop on effective essay writing at People’s Community Church in Washington, DC. Visit http://www.writingmomma.com/ a click on the “Writing Program” tab for more information. Kimberly is a ghostwriter, author, publisher, and blogger living in Maryland with her husband and three children.
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