Helicopter parent

Those of you who taught with me at Timothy (or anywhere for that matter) are probably familiar with the term "helicopter parent". Used (at times with gritted teeth or perhaps a chortle or eye roll thrown in) to describe those parents who spend an excessive amount of time in or around their children's classrooms (and, therefore, their kids' school bizness), this phrase has been thrown around a lot in my vocabulary to describe one who might be the proverbial pain in my butt. (Sorry, parents.) Well, today, I had a breakthrough understanding of why helicopter parents hover the way they do. Vacation Bible School started at our church this week. J.J., being 3, is of an age when he can attend the preschool version. I dropped him off at church and just could not bring myself to leave (and, in my defense, was invited to stay - wink wink). So I stayed through the singing (which JJ ADORES - and his dancing is entirely too entertaining to miss) and still found I had to tear myself away. If I could have turned into that little fly on the wall that gets talked so much about, I most certainly would have. I wanted so badly to see how he would behave without me there and which social cues he's picking up on (or not). I had a mad urge to ask someone with a video camera to just plant themselves in his group for the day and shoot away so I wouldn't miss a second. And this just for a two-and-a-half hour event! My goodness, I just can't begin to imagine how crazy it must drive parents to have their child gone a majority of the day and to have no clue what is happening or, truly, how their child is behaving/speaking/learning, etc. So, first of all, my apologies to any parent to whom I may have referred as the helicopter variety. I completely understand now how much you want to know what's happening with your child when you're not there to monitor and help. When I came back to pick JJ up, I tried to get a full play-by-play from anyone who might have had insight into him that day. Luckily, at his age he's able to give me a report himself (albeit, fractured and somewhat fictional at times). It will be a good growing experience for both of us this week, I think. He will be learning to take instruction from others and what behaviors are and are not acceptable in these situations. Hopefully he'll learn to make some new friends, to share, to SIT (well, ok, we won't put expectations of miracles on these wonderful people). I will learn to start letting go and to trust my baby to others. And if you see a brunette thirty-something lurking around the windows of the church or school where my son might happen to be...I have an alibi.