Hover mother

I sat at a ball game last week and watched a young mother hen peck her six year-old daughter to near tears. The child wasn’t allowed to play with my kids or their toys. She wasn’t allowed to move up or down the bleachers. She wasn’t allowed to chew gum or get dirty or wiggle around very much at all. After about 30 minutes, the poor child was so frustrated, she became almost inconsolable when her mother said she couldn’t get something to drink. I thought to myself, “What a hover mother.”

I never want to be the kind of mother who hovers over my kids’ every move. I try to make a point of leaving the boys to themselves to play, when it is safe and appropriate. Some days the boys can be very constructive-reading or building towers or putting puzzles together like they’ve been doing it for years; other days, I can turn my head for a split second and they are on the verge of burning down the house. Yes, what children can get themselves into when their parents aren’t looking-that is what keeps us on our toes. I’ve learned that in our house, when all is quiet…that’s when I should be most afraid.

It wasn’t long after Cooper learned that he was big enough to open the fridge that I found him, after what seemed too long of a quiet spell, sitting on the bottom step of the refrigerator with the door open. He had climbed to the top shelf, grabbed the carton of strawberries, and proceeded to take a bite out of every one, after which he carelessly tossed each half-eaten berry onto the kitchen floor.

Or there was the time I caught him just as he was about to step from my computer chair onto the desk to reach for the video camera, which was sitting on the shelf directly above the laptop. In my moment of horror, I shouted his name. Startled, he turned and said, “Mommy, I was just going to get that camera right there so I can smile in it.”

And of course anything Cooper can do, the little guy can do better. Just this morning I caught Brisco standing in the middle of the kitchen table gumming up “fun-flower seeds” and spitting them all over his feet. Guess maybe I should do a little more hovering.

As far as I can tell, there is little good that comes from being a hover mother. I will admit, there would probably be fewer messes to clean up and less frustration experienced on the part of the parent. But who wants a clean, quiet, clingy, broken-spirited little child who can’t move or breathe for fear of getting his ear chewed off by a nagging mother?

I’ve discovered that there is a delicate balance between swarming my kids’ every move and giving them the space they need to play and explore and problem solve without simply getting in their way. Children will seek us out when they are in need; they will learn to be independent if we allow them. What they need is a little freedom and a lot of guidance…and a really good bar of soap.

And that’s All in a day’s work!