Happy Monday! Hope you all had a wonderful weekend with your families. I’m here to bring you another Mom Crush Monday post. This week I am featuring Sarah from The Halfassed Housewife. Sarah, The Half-Assed Housewife, spends her sunny southwestern days chasing her herd of kidiots, half-assing housework and sometimes blogging. She likes her coffee as dark as her humor and as strong as her opinions. I absolutely adore Sarah’s sarcasm and writing and I think you will too! This is one of my favorite posts of hers about helicopter parenting and why she doesn’t watch her kids play.
I don’t watch my kids play – the freedom kids need from helicopter parenting
Let me set the stage before someone calls Child Protection on me for “not watching my kids”. I’m currently not watching them as I type this. There is some army-style sneaking happening by the older kids and the little ones have made a giant mud-puddle after taking it upon themselves to water our newly planted Raspberry bushes and are, I am certain sitting in it.
They are playing, happily.
We have a large yard with a somewhat secure fence on all four sides. We actually have 2 acres of property. Our backfield is fenced so that, in theory, our asshole goats will stay back there. In Theory. We have sheds, wood piles, a “vintage car” parked on the guesthouse lawn, tool shed, four wheelers, trees, grass, sandboxes and mud-pits courtesy of an Idiot Australian Shepherd and a two-year old with a hose.
I can see and hear what it is going on outside almost at all times. When I can’t hear the kids, I go find them. I can spot them from the kitchen window climbing a tree, a fence or an addition they built to their Little Tykes castle using an old trash can.
They have places specifically designed for them. We have a trampoline, we have a swing set, we have a sandbox. Those kid-friendly areas are used frequently but rarely in the way they were intended. The trampoline is more like an MMA octagon, the sandbox is a buffet and the swing set has seen some crazy Ninja Warrior skills from all 3 kids. I have noticed the less I watch the kids, the more adventurous they become. Or, the less they think I am watching them, the more confident they become in themselves. I also notice some wierd things being created by them all. We adults would call them messes but in our brush-off sort of way – but they are masterpieces and feats of engineering in their own respect. They are created by my kids every single day. Had I been hovering or helicoptering my kids, these things never would have been created.
I have seen some impressive problem-solving occur from the kitchen window as I sip my coffee and don’t hover over my kids like a helicopter. I have watched the three kids form alliances and make deals and solve fights without my ever having to leave the comfort of my living room. Kids who spend the better part of an entire meal pinching, kicking, poking and fighting have spent hours upon hours working together to dig a hole for a fort or collect the perfect rocks for a castle wall. Granted, I have also seen my herd run screaming past the window with sticks. Just because I don’t helicopter does not mean I don’t parent. I took the sticks away and sent them back outside.
I will not hover, control or helicopter parent. I am what I like to think of as a Drone Parent. If I see or hear of something going down I appear from nowhere and shut-that-shit down Drone Strike style without warning. Whenever I see some real shit about to go down I appear magically in the front door, hollering in my most serious mom-voice something along the lines of “absolutely fucking not”. The kids look around as though the Voice of Reason has just called to them and then they quickly scramble to quit doing whatever it was mom caught them doing that they shouldn’t have been. The “absolutely fucking not” is reserved for moments like the time I saw two 7-year-olds transferring a pickaxe and a fire extinguisher from a shed to the backyard for reasons that I could only imagine. Nothing more needed to be said and we haven’t had that issue happen again. Sometimes a quick yell from the window about hitting, sharing, screaming like you’re dying or trying to get out of the gate will suffice.
This drone style parenting is not for the faint of heart. There is a risk that while you cook dinner, three feet from the door your kids will be covering one another head-to-frickin-toe with tile thin-set powder. There is a very good chance that you will have to hose off your child multiple times, probably millions, throughout their childhood. There is a good chance that scrapes and bruises will become commonplace, but you will see that tears and band-aids are only requested when absolutely necessary. I have seen small children tackle tasks much larger than themselves with the determination of a nation. There is a good chance you will start to believe that when a tiny voice tells you “NO! I CAN DO IT!” that they can.
Not a helicopter.
I had read an article months ago about somewhere in Europe creating what basically amounted to a Junk Yard where parents weren’t allowed beyond the gate so that kids could do what kids are supposed to do. Apparently, that is break shit and get tetanus. I wouldn’t necessarily take my kids to this pre-fab junkyard to bounce around BUT letting them explore their own surroundings, at their own will, without my constant hovering, nagging, directing and fun-stealing has really allowed everyone to grow.
I don’t miss anything because what I don’t see while peering at my children occasionally they excitedly tell me about. Tugging my shirt to come see their sand castle, mud pie, rock pile – or telling stories over dinner about their day. Sometimes they don’t tell us. Sometimes their dad and I will be out wandering the yard and find something that looks like an army fort or a ramp or who knows what. We found some Hay Hooks in the bushes once. Immediately moved those out of reach, but I bet that was a really fun game of pirates.
Thanks so much Sarah for the laughs and a funny start to our Monday!
Are you a helicopter mom, drone parent or somewhere in the middle?