Oh Wait… Are We Helicopter Parents? (Part 2)
This is the continuation of Oh Wait… Are We Helicopter Parents? (Part 1)…
We live in a townhouse with a staircase leading up to our son’s room. A while back we used to talk about getting a “baby gate” to keep Jack from crawling up the stairs or falling down them.
But looking back now, we just haven’t got around to it, and I figured out why:
My wife and I have this default policy that we never let Jack wander into the next room without us.
But as little as he actually gets to see us, he doesn’t want to be in a room alone anyway.
So anytime Jack wants to climb up the stairs, one of us is right there with him, ready to brace his fall if he stumbles.
Sure, we let him run around free, outside. But only in a park, and we’re casually chasing him. Or in a racquetball court.
We love to see Jack explore the free world, as long as we’re right there with him the whole time.
I’ll say this: My parents were definitely not helicopter parents. Mainly because back in 1983 when I was Jack’s age, I wasn’t curious enough to try to stick car keys into an electrical socket.
That’s not to say Jack doesn’t know the concept of danger or has no real concept of boundaries, because he completely does.
But maybe he’s just a more curious kid than I ever was, and as his parent, I am overly aware of this.
Are my wife and I helicopter parents? I don’t know.
I’ll let you decide, based on what you’ve read about our style. I suppose it takes a third party to decide that.
But really, what does it take to qualify someone as a helicopter parent, anyway?
It’s not like Jeff Foxworthy has a joke series called “You might be a helicopter parent if…”.
That’s where you come in.
I would love your feedback on helping me get some good stereotypes, I mean, examples, of helicopter parents.
In fact, I think it would be pretty cool to write an article called “7 Token Signs You’re A Helicopter Parent.”
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