House TalkN is a fun lookiloo at houses, houses, houses. It will answer pressing questions like, "When folks build a McMansion on a small lot, what are they compensating for?" or "Was the real estate agent drunk when they staged this house?" or "Why don't the Smiths' ever leave their drapes open when I am on a harmless walk-by?"

Monday, November 18, 2013

Helicopter Parenting

You know what? I am sick and tired (Yes, I have become my mother. "I am sick and tired of...") helicopter parents getting a bad rap.
I am guilty of throwing around "darn helicopter parents!" accusations. Truth be told, I have a long history of helicopter parenting. I'm betting that you do, too.
My helicopter parenting peaked with my firstborn. When it was time to feed the prince, the world stopped. Soft music would be playing in the background while we would cuddle in the "nursing chair." By the time our fourth arrived, I would feed her while chasing screaming toddlers. Boobs on the loose be damned. 
My firstborn never ate in the car. Developing good table manners is important, yo'. Now, I chuck sandwiches to the back of the swagger wagon with Peyton Manning accuracy. "LOOK ALIVE! Dinner is served!" 
My sister often pointed out my Helicopter Parenting offenses. 
"Why are you getting their drinks? They can do it themselves."
"Why are you laying out their clothes? They can do it themselves."
"Why are you peeling their grapes? That is just plain stupid."
"Why are you still wiping their butts? They can do it themselves."
"Why are you tying their shoes? They can do it themselves."
No one can put you in your place like your sister. 
I remember asking my husband if we should maybe, just maybe, move our brood out of our bed. He responded, "We have bigger fish to fry than kids in our bed. This will be over before we know it."
Now, it's just the two of us (and the dog) in our bed. He was right. That stage was over in a blink. I actually miss the days of toddler feet against my back...or against my chin. I miss waking up with warm, snuggly babies. I miss looking across a sea of toddlers at my husband clinging to the side of the bed. 
The truth is that we all do the best we can. Every family finds it's own kind of crazy rhythm. What works for one family might seem crazy to another family. And vise versa. I remember laughing at with a friend that had to push her son around the house in his stroller to get him to sleep. I was in no place to judge. My son had to play with my hair to go to sleep. 
I am In The Powder Room today confessing a litany of helicopter parenting moments. Meet me there and confess your sins. 
I see this chart on our basement door everyday. It reminds me how fast this whole parenting gig is flying by.


  1. Headed over, but had to say--love your husband's perspective about "bigger fish to fry". Amen! And here's to every family's unique rhythm!

    1. Ain't that the truth? We all find our own way, huh? Thank you, Meredith!

  2. There's so much I want to say in response, but I'm so tired...not sick, just tired ;)

    1. I understand. I'm too tired to get out of my robe.

  3. Just read your post on In the Powder Room. 36 scrapbooks!!?? Now that's impressive.

    1. It's embarrassing. I'm a scrapbook hoarder.

  4. Confession: I carried my son until he was nearly 4 years old. Literally


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