I should provide a disclaimer that I am dating a Baby Boomer; he has three sons, ages eighteen, twenty-two, and twenty-four. We have lots of parenting conversations as he is a serious helicopter parent and I am … well I am not. I am a Generation X mother of two sons, ages nine and thirteen. However, I think the idea of the helicopter parent has eeked its way into many Generation Xers lifestyles (think soccer moms).
I was surprised, and happy, and relieved to read this article in Time magazine. I have long just laughed off the glares of what a “bad”and “uncaring”parent I am. You know those conversations that suddenly cease when you walk into the room and all those gossiping women give you a 100-watt fake smile when you approach the group. Or how I have the ability to kill a conversation by simply saying, “My children walk to school.”Oh, the horrified looks I get. You would think I had said, “I force my sons to walk to school wearing pink tutus!”Yes, I am a powerful woman. I can change the mood in the room to immediate discomfort just by entering it.
“We were so obsessed with our kids’ success that parenting turned into a form of product development. Parents demanded that nursery schools offer Mandarin, since it’s never too soon to prepare for the competition of a global economy. High school teachers received irate text messages from parents protesting an exam grade before class was even over; college deans described freshmen as “crispies,” who arrived at college already burned out, and “teacups, ”who seemed ready to break at the tiniest stress.”(Time)
Unlike the article, my parenting style did not evolve from the financial hardships of the Great Recession. No, I have always parented with intention that my children would become self-sufficient adults. I always parented with the knowledge that at any moment, I may not be here and my children would need to be able to succeed without me. I have always parented with the intent that I would continue to have my own life and in order for that to be possible my children would need to be responsible. I have always parented with the desire for my children to go happily off to college AND NOT RETURN! (Just kidding, sort of, a little bit … well maybe not. Unless they are bringing my grandchildren to visit.)
I owe my children the following; love and lots of it, education, food, shelter, clothing, warmth, humor, and most importantly boundaries in which to learn their own limitations. Other than that, I am NOT my children’s slave labor, I am NOT their short-order cook, I am NOT their laundress, I am NOT their chauffeur, I am NOT their memory. I AM their mother.
“From peace and prosperity, there arose fear and anxiety; crime went down, yet parents stopped letting kids out of their sight; the percentage of kids walking or biking to school dropped from 41 percent in 1969 to 13 percent in 2001. Death by injury has dropped more than 50 percent since 1980, yet parents lobbied to take the jungle gyms out of playgrounds, and strollers suddenly needed the warning label “Remove Child Before Folding.” Among six-to-eight-year-olds, free playtime dropped 25 percent from 1981 to ‘97, and homework more than doubled. Bookstores offered Brain Foods for Kids: Over 100 Recipes to Boost Your Child’s Intelligence. The state of Georgia sent every newborn home with the CD Build Your Baby’s Brain Through the Power of Music, after researchers claimed to have discovered that listening to Mozart could temporarily help raise IQ scores by as many as nine points. By the time the frenzy had reached its peak, colleges were installing “Hi, Mom!” webcams in common areas, and employers like Ernst & Young were creating “parent packs” for recruits to give Mom and Dad, since they were involved in negotiating salary and benefits.”(Time)
