helicopter mom

Life Begins When You Let Go of Your Kids

by SoCalledMom · Aug 3, 2017

Letting go of your kids is the hardest part about parenting.

Which makes sense because we often quit our own life so we can dedicate it to someone else–to teach them how to crawl, walk, eat, sleep, go to school, make friends, study, make the team, graduate on time, and ultimately leave the house in one piece (and hopefully with rave reviews and 5 stars on your parenting skill card). So it’s no wonder we get carried away on our parenting adventure–that we forget they need adventure of their own.

Still, no one has really asked us to quit our lives to focus on theirs, per se, but we do it because we think it’s what is best. And it might be, for the first handful of years, but after awhile, it all just turns into bad habits. Really bad habits. Or repeat nightmares that sound like: mom, I can make my own sandwich or worse– mom, I can tie my own shoes; ask for her number myself; tell my friends no…and what I’m also doing is trying to tell you no.

I believe the gray area between helping your toddler and your 17-year-old figure things out for themselves is called meddling.

And I have become such an expert at meddling for so long that it has turned into Jake believing he can’t do anything–which has killed his self esteem. However, the best part about being a So-Called Mom, is that there is always redemption waiting in the wings (ta-da!). Which means, I decided to pull the plug on myself, while also shocking him back to life, by signing him up for 2 weeks of wild, survival based Outward Bound goodness.

I understand that putting him on that bus full of strangers headed for the woods will be much like putting a cat in a toilet, but I’m going through with it because I know it’s what he needs.

It’s what we both need. He’s going to be out there, freaking out on the first day I’m sure, but kicking ass by the time it’s through. I’m also open to him not being too thrilled about the experience when I pick him up two weeks from now, but I do think he will be able to look back on this and get what he needs out of it. And if he doesn’t, well, there’s always next summer. 😉

So-Called Mom

From Teen to Adult: Outward Bound Adventure

by SoCalledMom · Jun 23, 2017

This week I announced we are sending 17-year-old Jake on a 2 week Outward Bound trip. As much as I hate to admit it, there is so much that bothers me about this trip that I can’t believe I am paying this much cash for this level of (good for you in a sick way) torture. This adventure has become step one to sending Jake out of the nest, but there are so many nuances that I’m hesitant I’m doing any of it right. Jake is my first kid. I had him young and for awhile it was just us going through life together. And I’m totally guilty for hanging onto that “just us” notion for far too long.

In all reality, this whole adventure is signaling that we are both growing up.

That’s embarrassing to admit, but it is what it is. At this point I’m assuming his teen to adult transition is harder on me than it is on him–but isn’t that the way it always is? The more I think about what bugs me, the more I discover that I have just as much to learn as he does. The best part is that Outward Bound is teaching both of us so much already. Torture indeed: It would be so much easier to just keep on helicopter-momming and not change along side him. But that’s not who I am–or at least who I want to be.

After my interview with Jake, I realized that I had a problem with him thinking that he can just summit a mountain with no training. I couldn’t get over his nonchalance with being thrown to the wolves in his interview below. But at the same time, I had to flip this annoyance around on myself. Would I want him to be too scared to go? Definitely not–but the mom in me is shouting: you can’t do this without being ready! While the teenager in him is replying watch me.

Well, Isn’t that what I signed him up for?

Of course it is. But it doesn’t take away the little things that will undoubtedly come up right up until he goes. I’m a little irked because he acts as if this whole gig is for him to prove something to me. He apparently already knows he will make it. He already knows everything there is to know about the outdoors and survival–in life and in the wild. The best thing I can do is let him prove that to himself out there.

I’m learning that it isn’t the act of pushing my kids out of the nest that hurts. It’s not the separation or the worry of emptiness over the missing kid in your house. Nor is it the terror in pushing them out and watching them potentially plummet to the ground, hereby demonstrating years of parenting failures. The real pain comes from realizing that he left long ago, and hasn’t needed me for years. And maybe worse still, that I’ve been doing things without the awareness that I’m not helping him “adult” at all. So then, my Outward Bound assignment is to continue to acknowledge that if he says he can, he can–and that if he can’t, well then, it’s up to him to find out.

I think it’s every moms dream for their child to have this very clear-cut transition point from teen to adulthood. We see what only looks like success all around us: graduating at the top of their high school class, sports scholarships, Ivy league, great job, kids of their own, a happy spouse and a nice spacious home. But the truth is, it’s not straightforward at all. And that is only surface level success. It is the success that we want for them because ultimately it reflects on us–alas, we’re great parents.

But when I think about it in the context of Jake, I have no idea what success looks like for him. All I can do is show him what it might look like–high up and overcoming fears on a glacier, for instance.

Despite the push and pull of these transitional parenting challenges, I’m not giving up. My ultimate goal is to raise this kid into a healthy adult human who cares about himself and sees the value in what he can contribute. That means however he gets there, his own way, will be the best way.

Onward and Upward,

So-Called Mom

On Throwing your Children to the Wolves

by SoCalledMom · Jun 21, 2017

Like all mom bloggers, I have a love-hate relationship with my blog. I think my particular case of this polarity is due to the nature of how much it keeps me accountable: I appreciate the reminder to follow through on what I’ve been promising so I can become a better So-Called Mom–but my old habits like to dig their heels in like a toddler who won’t get into his own bed at night. It is an adventure and of itself.

As a such, I have decided to address my helicopter mom issues full-steam-ahead with my 17-year-old son Jake. How? Well, I’ve decided to send him on a two week Outward Bound adventure.

I’m essentially throwing my child to the wolves to see if he will survive.

Wait–will he survive? Of course he will survive! But I’ve turned into a wreck all of a sudden, and I’m only at the point where I’m filling out paperwork. So unfortunately (and as predicted with my horrible heli-habits), I’ve made the conversation about me and whether or not I can survive Jake’s Outward Bound adventure. So here I am, vowing to keep myself in check all summer because if he even detects a sliver of anticipation from me, it’s over. Oh yeah, and also: I’d be flushing a bucket of money down the drain.

Step one is to complete that paperwork: signed, sealed, delivered. Step two is to talk about getting into physical, mental and emotional shape with Jake–and actually following through with it. Lucky for him, I’ve had a personal trainer for a few weeks already, so he can follow my lead. Hey I know that’s probably more embarrassing than ideal, but I can’t let him go it alone for this part. He does need to be able to summit a glacier after all. The good news is, this kid already has a built-in love for the outdoors. Who knows, maybe this experience will lead him down a previously undiscovered career path? Fingers crossed.

This will be an adventure for us both and even though I’m (shhhhhh) terrified, I’m also very excited to see the outcome: An adult who is not only ready for his last year in high school, but excited and motivated by his own potential to life a fulfilling life. I promise to document our stages, trials and tribulations as we make our way to the finish line.

Pinecones & Needles,

So-Called Mom

MEAN Kid or REAL Bully & When to INTERVENE!

by SoCalledMom · Jun 15, 2017

Bullying is one of the hottest parenting topics out there. As one of those overly protective moms, I have often overreacted to hurt feelings. Often times, I’ve used this terminology without really understanding its side effects. Aside from putting a label on kids, it also decreases opportunities for building resilience, acceptance and most importantly: resolution.

My last two posts had me vowing to clear my helicoptering parental habits. And ever since then, I have exorcised the demons! Well, sort of. There’s still a nagging feeling that wants to govern every situation my kids simply must experience on their own. But now I’m doing my best to ignore it. Even when it comes to the neighborhood bully. So I’m working on a different approach.

Which has me putting my new set of rules to the test: Case in point, The other day Pascal’s neighborhood tribe of new pals suddenly turned on her. She spoke of some rude name-calling earlier yesterday and I fought the urge to run out on my lawn, eyes a blazing, asking which kid wanted to experience a real bully. So for a moment, I fantasized about it and then directed my attention to Pascal. How do you imagine the issue resolving itself?

And then I buttoned my lip and listened.

Pascal seemed to have it sorted until the text messages started in as we were sitting there. I suddenly realized this was a bigger problem than just a squirmy boy calling her ugly (apparently name-calling isn’t considered bullying, go figure!). These kids were only engaging in a normal act of thick-skin building meanness until they began pulling other kids into a group text, ganging up on Pascal with the promise of social exclusion as far as the our neighborhood development could see. Then she was blocked, by all of them, in unison, so she couldn’t respond. Now that, my dear mom friends, is bullying.

Learning the ins and outs of this stuff is new to me, especially now that I’m So-Called helicopter aware. And even though none of us want our kids to feel any of the above, it helps to see these problems separated out into categories so that we know when to stay grounded and listen and also when to fly in, rescue and hover like hell.

But the information on what to do is still conflicting in my mind, despite obsessively reading a number of articles between my sleeplessness last night and this mornings coffee. Step in or get out-of-the-way? Rescue or relax? What builds resilience and what feeds into self-destruction?

The difference between intervening and not isn’t a chasm dividing the two, it’s splitting hairs between championing parenthood and letting your kids down when you should’ve been there.

And even though I seem to do it plenty, I’m not into the mom-fail thing. Or letting kids get away with bullying mine.

So then, I’d Love to hear it directly from my mom group.

What would you do: Intervene or not?

That is the question,

So-Called Mom

Help Me Stop Being a Helicopter Parent

by SoCalledMom · Jun 13, 2017

Last week I confessed I was a Helicopter Mom. The truth is, while I’ve heard the phrase Helicopter Mom for years, I never once thought it applied to me. In fact, even when I posted about being one, I was being a little cheeky about the whole thing.

Then I turned to Dr. Google.

I’m a textbook case:

I’ve stayed up late completing school projects for my kids.

I have meet with teachers and answer questions, originally directed at my child.

I intervene with dance and gymnastics coaches when my child hasn’t advanced at the speed I think they should be.

And literally and metaphorically, I don’t let them make toast, because they could get burned.

I am now obsessed with kicking years of dedicated helicopter habits. Like everything else I do, I’m probably over-correcting: I’ve checked out ten library books with titles like The Overparenting Epidemic and Because I Said So. I’ve scoured the internet for articles (there’s literally 8 million results). And I’ve drawn up a set of rules to help me self-check:

Allow them to feel uncomfortable:

I realize I’m more uncomfortable listening to or even anticipating their discomfort than they are – as if it’s happening to me, not them. I’m robbing them of the right to feel badly and then learn that this too, shall pass. If this means pissing off your five-year-old because they have to sleep in their own bed, or allowing your 17-year-old to fuck up his grade because he pulls a no-show for a really important test, then so be it. Hell, I didn’t rag on my husband when he paid cash for a stolen car, why am I hovering over these kids? Maybe next time they will make the right choice, and I will save myself a big argument.

It’s time to stop “child-protecting” the family environment

In short, they can do things without my supervision. Failure is ok. Or in other words, they may get burned making “toast,” but they will probably survive.

Prepare to kick them out of the nest

In other words, teach some concrete life skills and model them. I’ve unconsciously fostered a home atmosphere where no one (except Pascal), really cares about hanging out with anyone outside the immediate family. They are all devoutly anti-social. And that’s just a small example. Jake and Phoenix are complete slobs. They can’t even do a load of laundry or take out their own garbage. Jake has failed his driver’s license twice. Em hides in her room most of the day. I could go down the line, but believe me, none of them are learning any independence. Five year old Leo doesn’t even have the basics: I could start with getting him to spend the night in his own bed. Which leads me to:

Helicopter Mom, Helicopter Parent, good fortune, Fortune Cookie

Let them find their own solutions

All too frequently, I solve the problem or step in just because it’s easier. Because I tell myself things like, 14-year-old Em would forget to breathe if I didn’t tell her how to, I end up enmeshed in a ridiculous conversation about what she should do with a basket of laundry. I think I’m doing some badass parenting, because I turn it into a Q&A: What do I do with this basket of laundry? Well, what’s in it? Towels, should I fold them? What kind of towels are they? Dishtowels. Do we waste time folding dishtowels in our house? No. Where do they go? In the drawer. Bingo. But seriously, who is to blame? Why didn’t I start this sooner?

The goal is to end up with resilient kids who can problem solve and don’t need your input for every detail in life. They might make poor choices, but they will be able to come up with a backup plan or a solution. Ultimately they will be able to resolve issues without holding your hand. This also creates an adult that is prepared for the world.

But I’ve done none of this. I’m SO late to the party, but it doesn’t mean I can’t still go.

Helicopter Mom, Helicopter Parent, Step Mom, Blended Family, Parenting Advice

For more than ten years, I’ve been posing as an expert on both parenting and step-parenting. As far as blended family issues? Ask me anything. Every kid still has ten fingers and toes, they are reasonably healthy, and they like each other so much they don’t even want to leave the house most of the time. I must be a great parent. Helicopter Mom is a term for some other dame.

But then I started this blog. From the sheer weight of having to self-reflect and edit my thoughts, and review the various comments – both positive and not – I realize how much I don’t know about raising kids. So I’m flipping the conversation for a bit; rather than impart my own So-Called Mom wisdom into the world, I’d like to share a series of posts over the next few weeks about different parenting challenges I’m facing and ask for your advice.

Helicopter Mom, Helicopter Parent, Parenting Advice, Step Mom, Mom Support, Mom Blogger

From the various comments I’ve received, it’s easy to see the support and the hate. I welcome both. After all, we moms are in this together, aren’t we?

So here’s to a better version of this mom,

So-Called Mom

Confirmed: I am a Helicopter Parent

by SoCalledMom · Jun 9, 2017

Another parenting challenge you won’t find in any of the how-to books is how to help your 17-year-old firstborn navigate his first heart-break. Apparently helping doesn’t mean hovering, shouldering or swooping in and saving the day, my bad! Believe me when I tell you that there is nothing worse than realizing you’ve been meddling like this right up to your kids’ adulthood.

As a freshly self-identified helicopter parent, I recognize that no one, especially Jake, has asked for my help in this way.

Full disclosure (I’m getting good at those): my first instinct was to memorialize my reaction in a vlog. And in all my well-intentioned emotional “honesty,” I realized while editing, that all of it was best left on the cutting room floor as they say.

So here’s what I got out of this:

I’m lousy with boundaries. Whether it was their first day at kindergarten, or navigating friendships or getting their driver’s license or

having their heart-broken, I have bumbled my way through helping my kids cope, thinking I could “fix things,” truly believing I was an expert. Ironically, this blog is teaching me the flip side of being a so-called mom: that the more I think I know, the more I realize I don’t.

Don’t we all have that mom fix-it impulse? To step in and just take-over?

Well, apparently this So-Called Mom doesn’t just take over and fix, I flat-out hijack any and all rites of passage and then take it upon myself to fix things that aren’t even broken.

So back to where I began: my 17-year-old, Jake. Yesterday he fessed up that the reason he’s been staying home from school isn’t his “migraines,” but because the girl who he’s been crushing on all year-long is moving far away. I spent the day texting with him, while he was in class, about what to do. That’s no-no #1. And then I bawled about it like it was happening to me.

Note to self: Don’t create a false narrative about your kid’s so-called heartbreak like it’s going to create a lifetime of regret over “the one that got away.” Especially over a relationship that never even happened. It’s as if I see the disappointment of a first crush as proof that leaving the bubble of homeschooling was the bad idea I knew it would be.

My problem? I feel my kids pain even more than they do. And then whenever there’s a remote discomfort, I want to “protect” my kids from feeling it—and I do, without realizing that letting them experience these things is essential to building confidence and resiliency.

Look, I want to say it’s not as bad as it sounds, but the truth is that he is transforming into an adult faster than I can keep up with and I just want to be able to say I did OK. Part of that means that I can look back and confirm that I provided an equal balance of support and letting go—that he has been able to find his own path after I showed him the ropes. But I realize now that I haven’t been doing that—and not just with Jake but will all my kids. I’ve been leading the pack too strongly and controlling their emotional responses.

So this next part is going to be hard. It means backing off of my instinctive responses and keeping my pain to myself. I get this about letting them fail. But maybe I’m afraid of failing myself? Do other moms also share that?

Please say yes,

So-Called Mom