I’m a hoverer. I flit about like a nervous hummingbird. When I am sitting seemingly still, my mind is still jumping back and forth between all the little ducklings in my brood. Am I allowing the diva enough opportunities to grow and nurture her free spirit and fashion aspirations, while still planting reasonable expectations in her head for the future? How can I help my little Aspie deal with society and their lack of respect for anything that doesn’t fit the norm? Am I pushing both of them enough, without over doing it? Are my kids dealing with things okay? Are they in need of reassurance, without over assuring them and becoming a nuisance?

Unlike many domestic caregivers, what to have for supper and clean clothes rarely enter my mind. I am that unique blend of obsessive and slob. I obsess over emotional well-being of those around me without ever considering the chunky milk sitting next to me. This is surprisingly exhausting and- as you can imagine- an odd combination. In other words, it matches the rest of my brood nicely. This particular obsession leads to what is described by my children as “helicopter mommy-ing.”

Now, we’ve all heard of helicopter parents. Those parents that must be involved in every move their child makes. The typical helicopter parent seems to micromanage each aspect of their child’s life and tries to do the same for all the children their child encounters. Not only is that not practical for daily sanity, it does not teach your child how to handle any aspects of their own independent life. Helicopter parenting is not in the long-term best interest of either the parent or the child. I, however, argue that hovering in the background has some benefits.

Let me say first, that by hovering I don’t mean the type of helicopter parenting that blows everyone away and makes it hard for the child to hear their own thoughts. I am talking about being a mostly silent observer in your child’s interactions with their peers. I don’t mean that you should dictate every move your child makes in an attempt to keep them safe from any particle of harm or misfortune to befalling them. While it is necessary, at times, to dictate what your child does, it is equally important to give them opportunities to fail and make mistakes. Some scraped knees are necessary, some logical consequences given for not preparing, etc.

The problem with helicoptering around your children constantly is that they never learn. Think about your greatest accomplishments, or feelings of success. Those moments- most likely- come from failure or lessons learned from a failure. When we helicopter around our children, making every decision for them, we insult their intelligence and create dependent, helpless children. Those children grow into adults that need someone to make all their choices for them. In the real world, people willing to make choices for your dependent adult children might not be so keen to keep their best interest in mind.

It’s hard not to hover. I think this is especially true for parents of children that have unique needs. It is much easier for me, as a parent, to let my little diva handle herself in situations, because I know she is naturally more equipped with the social skills to do so. She reads people incredibly well, she trusts her gut instinct, and she puts up with crap from no one. It is much harder for me to let my little Aspie loose. I know how sensitive he can be to the harsh realities of the world. I want to protect him, guide him, show by example how to interact with people…and I want to move him immediately away from anyone who doesn’t accept his best effort. This, however, is doing him no favors. So, I’ve come up with a compromise…instead of helicoptering around, I think it is beneficial to hover at a safe distance.

By now, I’m sure you have a great picture of me hiding in the bushes at the park with a dart gun full of tranquilizers aimed at any child who looks at my precious angels in the wrong way. Alas, no, I control myself slightly better than that. I have, I think, found a happy medium that works well in today’s society full of uncertainty and distain for all things different. It is vitally important that we all provide our children with opportunities to express themselves, practice social skills, practice anger management, and to fail. Yes, I am telling you that your kid needs to fail and you need to stand by and watch it happen. However, it is equally important that we are there to pick up the pieces of that failure and help our children put themselves back together and learn from that failure. Hover- in the background- watching, taking notes, and making sure that things don’t go too far.

Hovering rather than completely helicoptering allows for a few things that I think are important. It fosters independence, but also allows for a safety net. For example, we have a playground in town that is designed to be inclusive…children of all abilities can find something to do at this park. My children LOVE it. Going to the park with the Aspie and the Diva is always an interesting spectacle. Our little diva is a thrill seeker. She fearlessly climbs just about anything. Our little Aspie is much more hesitant to test his physical abilities. Parks make him terribly self-conscious of his motor control differences. Undoubtedly there is always that one kid at the park who thrives off making others feel bad. A helicopter parent would find this child, and make sure their children were nowhere near them. A hovering parent recognizes this problem child, but also recognizes that such vultures will be encountered in the real world…thus, it is important to have practice dealing with such children. Such unpleasant people are quick to pick up on the fact that our Aspie is taking the safer way to the top of the slide rather than scaling the side of the play scape like his sister. I remember one time in particular where a child pointed this out to our Aspie in a most unkind way. My mommy senses tingled and I immediately wanted to jump in, tell the kid off or force equal play, brush off my cape and pat myself on the back for being such a good protector of my little ducklings. However, I recognized that this was an excellent learning opportunity. My Aspie won’t have mommy there to protect him every step of the way. Our goal is a productive, intelligent, contributing member of society, not an adult who runs to seek someone else to do the difficult stuff in life. So, I sat back…a safe watchful distance, but close enough to jump in should my assistance be needed. I have to say, I was surprised by what I saw.

The playground heckler approached our Aspie and asked why he played on baby toys. I bit my lip. Our Aspie glanced around for someone to handle this child and seeing no one, ignored him. The heckler persisted and I watch as our Aspie gets frustrated and flustered. I poise myself to pounce on the intruder. Then, our Aspie takes a deep breath and says, “I like doing it this way. We all have our strengths…mine is intelligence. I like how you did the monkey bars.” Our Aspie turns to the slide and slides away. I relax some. Our Aspie walks up to me. I expect a tattle. Instead of a tattle, our Aspie sits next to me and asks if I saw that. I confess that I did see and hear the whole thing, and compliment him on his coping strategies. Shrugging, our Aspie said, “Well, I wanted to come get you and ask to go home. But, sister is having a good time and I am working my way up to the tall slide. I knew you wouldn’t let me go home just because someone talked to me, so I decided to handle it. I know you would intervene if necessary or I would be hurt.” My heart swells and I hug our Aspie. Aspie pushes me away and goes, “Mom, too much touching.”
Our Aspie was right. I would have stepped in if things had gotten heated, or if a meltdown was in progress. Otherwise, I would have told him that we weren’t leaving the playground because of one spoiled brat. I would do the same for the Diva.

Our Diva will be the first one to break a bone. I cringe every time she climbs something. Partially because it seems so foreign to me to climb anything (I, like our Aspie, took the safe way up everything), and partially because I know she will eventually fall. Knowing this, I try to set ground rules. Don’t climb things you can’t get down from. Don’t climb things that aren’t anchored to something (specifically bookshelves). With ground rules set and a watchful eye, I let her play. One day she will fall and hurt herself, twist something doing a pirouette, or otherwise bruise herself. We try to teach her skills to monitor danger and make intelligent decisions about her limits, but she cannot determine her limits if I refuse to let her explore them. Furthermore, her limits will never expand if I do not let her push them. So, I do. I watch as she climbs, turns, runs, and leaps and watch for imminent danger. As a result, she had done things that I never would have tried. She falls and grows from that fall.

The real world is full of surprises and unpleasant things. If we helicopter around our children they don’t learn about these things and are overwhelmed by them in adulthood. If we simply hover in the background, we are able to provide safety and assurance to our children when necessary while still giving them the life skills to succeed in the future. Children are gifts, precious gifts, meant to be enjoyed and loved unconditionally. They are also future adults that the rest of the world will have to interact with once they have flown the coop. Hovering offers opportunities to use teachable moments, allow for growth, and still provide the nurturing support children need to grow and be confident. We need to hover in order to provide viable and useful feedback without micromanaging every moment. Hovering in the background is the happy medium between complete freedom and complete imprisonment. Hovering takes work on the parents’ part. It takes time and effort to be an active listener and observer, knowing when to bring mama (or papa) bear out and when to bite your tongue and sit on your hands. However, when you hover, you will eventually see a moment that tells you that you are making the right choice. You will see your children blossom. Hovering will allow you to see things you would miss if you were too busy worrying about what to protect your child from next, or likewise that you would miss if you were buried in your phone or yourself. Hovering is the happy medium. So, I’ll see you at the park. I’ll be the one in the background…there’s room on the bench for two, won’t you join me?