I want to set the record straight. The people who need to read this have been deleted from my facebook, but I am setting the record straight anyway. Just for S&G.
We have started attending a new parenting class for tweens and I have learned a lot. Last week I asked a question. A parent had shared that she had told her teen to pack a sweatshirt for the evening because it was supposed to get cold but her daughter refused to listen to her. Everyone shared about how teens/tweens don't listen to their parents, etc. I asked a valid question. I said, if my tween refused to pack a sweatshirt, I would put one in their backpack anyway knowing it was going to get cold, Is that wrong? I was answered with a resounding, "yes." They need to feel the consequences. They need to be independent. You can't always be there to pack a sweatshirt when they might get cold or a sandwich when they might get hungry. I humbly said, "Remind me of that next week,"
But I have given it some thought. I know I am a helicopter parent, but I also know why. I am 39 years old. My mother was diagnosed with a brain tumor at 36 and died at 42. Given those odds, I have a few more years. I do pack the extra sweat shirt. I even use his favorite detergent because he hates certain smells. And you can condemn me all you want, but the truth is, I have NO IDEA how much time I have left with these precious babies. So if I am not teaching them independence and self-reliance, let me tell what how quickly you have to learn independence when your mother dies at 42.
Yes, I match his socks and cut off his crusts.You can judge me all you want but if I only have a few more years of doing that, then I am. A lady actually said, "Well, he won't be married long if you act like that." And I wanted to say, "What if I don't get to see him get married?"
We "helicopter parent" because we know the risks. I rode my bike without a helmet. I don't think my mother loved me any less. I also rode my skate board down the "big hill" (Sally Thomas and Tiffany Teagarden know what I am talking about). My mother still loved me. I took risks. So, I get scared to death when they take risks. It's because I know more then they do. My mother just had this faith that I was going to live through it. And I did. I lived through riding my skateboard. I lived climbing the highest trees. But she didn't. So I "over" parent. Because I want to be around to see them graduate college.
Last year there was an incident. My boy who loves to run had practiced very hard for a race. Right before that (that very morning) he had won a quiz and was not acknowledged for that accomplishment right before the race. I was a coach. He looked at me teary-eyed and said, "Why didn't they call my name?" Then it was time for his race. He had practiced and practiced because he wanted to beat the high score. It was called a false start and he was disqualified. This kid who had been to Nationals was disqualified before he even ran. I saw the look in his eyes and I said, "What do you want to do?" He said, "I want to leave."
So I did. I lost my position as coach and teacher. But I won as parent. In the car he cried. He said he'd never race again and he never has. I have tried to encourage him but he was broken hearted. I deleted the people who did this so they will probably never know....but that was my moment. I gave up what I knew what was right to show him that I was always on his side. It doesn't matter where you are from. The big hill is the big hill. When you crash at the bottom, your mama is always there. It doesn't matter WHERE you live. I hope someday he runs again. And to the adults who weren't there for him...don't worry, I was. I miss my mother every single day. EVERY SINGLE DAY. There is no one there who tells me I am worth it. There is no one there to walk out because I am hurting. There is no one to take my side even when I am wrong.
So, yes, I over-parent. Because I AM the parent. Not the boss, or the teacher, or the wife...I am the parent. I will always take his side. That is my job. And for however long God grants me this job, I will do it. He isn't perfect. Neither are you. But I bet your mother thinks you are.
