Tag Archive | protecting our kids

Helicopter Parenting, part 2

helicopter momLast time, I shared some thoughts about what happened to a mom who left her 4-year-old son in her car on a cool day while she went in to purchase one item at a store. (Read that here.) This post is a continuation of those thoughts about what it means to keep our kids safe.

Have you ever willingly fed your child GMO-laced foods? Have you been so busy you just didn’t have time to make dinner, so you ran by McDonald’s instead? What? Do you know how terrible that stuff is for you? Have you never seen “Super-Size Me?”

Have you used chemical cleaners in your home? Have you fed your family meats laden with hormones? These things are supremely bad for your health, and yet people eat them every day, and feed them to their children. Considering the circumstances, the above-mentioned mom’s lapse of judgement did not put her child in immediate danger. It wasn’t boiling hot; she locked the car and set the alarm; she was gone a few minutes. Dumb idea? Yes. Endangering her child? Sure. Nearly everything we do endangers our children to some degree. I let my kids play with our dog. Did I know that at any moment she wouldn’t bite one of them? No. How could I be totally sure of that? She was an animal. But I considered the circumstances, I had a history with this animal, and I instructed my kids not to get right in her face.

I tend toward helicopterness. I admit it. My teenage boys hate it. My 11-year-old daughter has never even crossed the moderately busy two-lane road by our house on her own. She’s never really had to. She’s always had someone to go with her. Next year, I’ll probably let her go on her own. She might be late to school as she tends to wait until there’s no car visible on the straight stretch of road, but so be it. She’ll get better as she does it. I let my kids climb the big magnolia tree in our backyard. Could they fall out? Oh yeah. Does that mean I don’t let them climb?

Our media-saturated, internet-addicted, child-centric society sometimes goes too far. We hear more stories than were ever heard of before because we have immediate access to those stories from all across the nation. It used to only be on the nightly news. And yet, from what I understand, crime rates are actually down compared to the 70s and 80s. So why do we fear the worst could happen? Because it could. That’s just the way it is. And no matter how much we try to protect our kids, something could still happen.

Are there people out there who really are bad parents and should have their kids taken away? Absolutely. I just watched a news story about a 15-month old girl who wandered more than 300 feet away from her home and ended up on the side of a highway. What? Where were her parents then? I also just read a story about a dad who forgot his baby in the backseat of his truck for a couple of hours in the Florida heat. The baby died.

That story and Kim’s, I believe, are very different situations. Kim weighed the circumstances and deemed it OK to leave her 4-year-old for a few minutes. Again, was it a bad decision? Maybe. But under the circumstances, it wasn’t over-the-top dangerous. Am I advocating leaving young kids in the car? No. In this case, avoiding possible tragedy is easy (even if you have to take a kicking and screaming child) and sensible.

The dad in Florida, well, he’ll have to live with his error for the rest of his life. Apparently, he forgot he had the child with him that day.

Kids die falling out of trees. Kids die waiting for their school bus on the side of the road. Kids die from dog bites. Kids die from automobile accidents. Every day. It’s tragic, I get that. But vilifying everyone who does something that you think poses too much of a threat, or keeping your child locked up in a bubble because you’re afraid the worst could happen really isn’t helping matters. It’s a broken world; bad things happen.

Ultimately, we make hundreds of little and big decisions every day about our kids. We can only do our best and the rest is in God’s hands.

My 17-year-old will drive himself to school and work. All three of my kids will climb that tree in our yard. My daughter will walk across the street by herself. It’s called living. I can’t protect them forever.

I’m willing to engage in polite debate on the subject. Comment below.

 

illustration by Jan von Holleben via realsimple.com

Helicopter Parenting

carsI have recently read an article by author Kim Brooks titled “The Day I Left My Son in the Car.” And then I read a response by a blogger who raked her over the coals for her thoughts. (Read that here.) I found myself writing a long response to her response (hoping she wouldn’t then feel the need to rake ME over the coals with another response), when I decided, “Why don’t I just say this on my own blog?” It’s a little scary to me to do so, because this is a very emotional subject about which people feel very strongly. But here goes.

Long story short (in case you decide not to read her original article, which is kind of long, but well worth the time): One cool day (50 degrees and overcast, by her account), Kim made the decision to leave her recalcitrant 4-year-old son in her car with the windows cracked, the car locked and the alarm set, for a few minutes while she ran into a store to pick up a pair of kids headphones for an airplane trip on which they were about to embark. She was running late, her son, who wanted to go with her in the first place, was suddenly unwilling to accompany her into the store, so she made the decision. Someone in the parking lot saw her do it, recorded the incident on their smartphone, and called the police. She was arrested, charged, and sentenced, in the end, to community service and taking a parenting course.

Frumpy Mommy argues that Kim Brook is trying to justify her actions in her article by talking about the epidemic of helicopter parenting in our society today. I think Mrs. Brook knew she was wrong. I read the entire article. It was a lapse in judgement. I don’t agree that the person who saw her do it should have waited, recorded and called police. I think right then they should have said, “Hey, it’s probably not a good idea to leave your kid alone!” If she ignored/was rude to/cursed out that person, then maybe matters should have been taken further. Why not nip the problem in the bud instead of watching someone fail?

I had a friend who recently lost track of their 3-year-old child at the beach. One minute he was playing with his brother, the next minute he was gone. They searched for 30 minutes for that little guy, panicked all the while. Turns out, a couple down the beach thought to themselves, “This child probably shouldn’t be wandering by himself.” But did they call the police and accuse the mom of being a terrible parent? No, they followed to make sure he wasn’t harmed by someone, they contacted beach patrol, and mother and child were happily reunited. Do children wander away in public places? Yes.

I lost my son for a terror-filled 5 minutes once at Sea World. Was I a bad parent because I took my eyes off of him for a minute? Granted, Mrs. Brook left her son in a locked, alarm-set car on a cool day. She made the decision. It’s different; I know that. And I’m not in any way, shape or form advocating that anyone leave their small child in their car for any reason. I didn’t even go into a convenience store to get my receipt if it failed to print at the gas pump if I had my babies with me. But no parent is perfect. I think we’ve probably all put our children at risk at some point. I think her point was not to excuse herself—I think she learned her lesson—I think her point was to say that judgement of others has gone way too far.

There is so much more to say. Don’t judge me until my thoughts are all out there (like yes, she’s the parent and should have taken control of the situation instead of letting her 4-year-old have control. And no, I’m not saying she was right in what she did.) In my next post, I’ll share more thoughts on this subject.

I’m willing to engage in polite debate on the subject. Leave your comments below.

image from eriesense.com