On Helicopter Parenting

Hear that loud whirring and thumping noise enveloping you in surround sound lately? It’s the noise of thousands of helicopters hovering over the New York Metro area. But these helicopters are not of the flying machine type we are accustomed to seeing flying daily above our streets, roads and bridges. These helicopters walk among us. We socialize with them. Many of them are our dearest friends. But for the life of me I can’t seem to understand their approach to parenting.

I’ve heard a lot of talk lately about helicopter parents. So, just exactly what the heck is a helicopter parent? Well, from what I can assess, these are parents who pay extremely close attention to their children's experiences and problems. I guess extremely close attention is supposed to be the differentiator between helicopter parents and parents that simply pay attention to their children. Still not sure I get it, do you?

Well, I pay attention to my children. I actively listen to what they have to say. I care about what they do and want to see them do well. I am concerned by how they feel about things and I encourage them to tell me so. I tell them how I feel, albeit this is something I was not always good at. I give them advice when they ask for it and sometimes when they don’t if I feel so compelled. But generally, I leave them alone and allow them to make their own decisions. And unless I see they are really going to get themselves in serious trouble, I don’t intervene. But I always pay attention even when they think I might not be.

Now some people might view this quasi laissez faire approach as irresponsible. That’s OK I can live with that. But honestly, how else are they going to learn what works for them and what doesn’t unless they make mistakes along the way? Do they really need me to tell them, now look daughter, you must do it this way otherwise you will make a mistake and pay for it the rest of your born days?

Oh my god, make a mistake daddy! Does this mean I will not be perfect? Does this mean I will be a failure forever and ever with no chance for social redemption? Does this mean that my teeth will never be perfectly white again and no one will love me? Uh, like no kid, we all make mistakes, even the Downtown Daddy. Really, it’s all right; you don’t need to be prescribed Xanax or Ritalin if you screw up. But let’s focus together and learn why the mistake was made – that is if it’s a mistake that’s even worth redressing.

From what I can gather, helicopter parents do not allow their children to learn from their own mistakes. Instead they focus on preventing any and all mistakes. They do not discipline, they over reason, they interfere with their kids development rather than simply letting kids be kids.

That said, look whirly-bird parents, what are you trying to accomplish? Maybe you ought to examine your behavior? Maybe you don’t trust yourselves and therefore find it impossible to trust your children can get it right without you? Could it be that it’s your feelings of insecurity that drive your obsession to make your children feel secure? Or, maybe you just want to feel wanted? Could your prescription for their perfection be a misdiagnosis?

Emotionally intelligent parenting starts with self-awareness, not paranoia. An important question we all need to ask is how much, if any, of this helicopter behavior is actually helpful to our children? While some children born of royalty are titled prince and princess, most of us are not. Quite frankly, I’m not sure that I’d want to be seeing how most of them turned out. Anyone watch Showtime’s The Tudor’s that chronicle the exploits of King Henry VIII?

I think it’s a bad idea to treat children as royalty. I think it’s a bad practice to overinflate children’s egos by constantly telling them how special they are. Over protection and excessive coddling of our kids does not help them – it hurts them. With patient guidance, our children need to learn how to live their lives. They don’t need us to live it for them. And with whispered tone let me suggest this – they don’t want us to either. Did you?

I don’t believe in pre-school graduation ceremonies, trophies for little league teams that finish last or spending tens-of-thousands of dollars on “sweet-sixteen” parties. I don’t believe in entitlement. Whatever, happened to earning a reward? I don’t believe in planning my kid’s lives and believe even less in over managing their choices. And while I sincerely believe that helicopter parents are well intentioned, I think they are missing the point of parenting. And if you don’t stop, your kids are going to explode one day from over-inflation and you are going to crash head first into a thick wall of dismay.

For example, I remember the father of an employee of mine calling me recently. He wanted to know why his 22- year old “little princess” (his exact words) did not get promoted to a managerial position that had opened up in my department. I told him that she was not qualified for the position. He wanted to know what the qualifications were. I respectfully told him that it was firm policy not to disclose that information. He persisted. I said goodbye, have a nice day. He called back, told me he was dismayed and his daughter quit the next day. Now that was a productive lesson wouldn’t you say? I wonder what’s going to happen the next time that young woman get’s passed over for promotion?

You know, I often hang out with my oldest son who is 33. I love him very much and so does his mother. My son and I are friends. But he knows I’m his father. We share mutual respect for each other. You see, as my first child, I made child-rearing mistakes during his upbringing -- especially early on when I was younger. He’s also made mistakes that he learned from. Today, we are both adults. We enjoy a healthy parent-child relationship and have lots to talk about. He’s a solid citizen, works hard and pays his way. He made it. He’s alive! He lives his life his way and he enjoys himself. He’s a good, kind and decent young man who cares about other people. No one hovered over him.

In retrospect, what the hell did I know about parenting? I drew upon the best of what I learned from my parents, replaced some of their less desirable techniques, learned as I went and did it my way. That’s generally how it works for most of us. I’ll tell you what I did learn. Be an empathetic teacher. Have fun, be real and most importantly be honest with your kids. Let them see your humanity – this includes your faults. Don’t be afraid to show yourself to them. They will learn to trust you.

None of us are perfect parents – so why burden ourselves with the expectation that we are going to create perfect children. Recognize that children are very sensitive and perceptive. They will feel our burden and we will unknowingly make them carry it for us by pressuring them with the weight of our perfect ideal. That’s not what any of us consciously want.

So, when you start to feel like you are losing control of them, refrain from revving up your props and dispatching the air cavalry to their rescue however much it scares you. It’s OK; we don’t need the Xanax either. Be responsible without being repressive. Let them go forward with your invisible hand on their shoulder to guide them and you will help them learn how to carry only their own weight – they will thank you for teaching them the way.

Things To Do On A Saturday Afternoon

So, I’m looking for something to do with my temperamental teenager this weekend. Why is this a challenge I think to myself? My god, I live in one of the liveliest, most interesting and wildly energetic cities in the world and all my kids seem to want to do is text, text, text.

They text stuff constantly, incessantly and even while they are sitting on the toilet. They text things in a new foreign language with expressions like “OMG”: oh my god, “abc”: already been chewed or we've already discussed that, “*asl”: Age, sex, location – apparently, the person on the other end is asking for information on these things, “pos”: parent over shoulder, “ctn”: Can't talk now, “*td2m”: Talk dirty to me, “b3”: Blah, blah, blah, “ptb”: Please text back, “b4n”: Bye for now, “bbs”: Be back soon.

Now what do I do with this sort of competition beaming in from their cyber friends who are spread out everywhere and available anytime? I mean, let’s look at it this way, you discover some educational event that is taking place on Saturday at MOMA. You hope they will be interested and have some fun and maybe even learn something. You would like to help them expand their cultural horizons and your main form of competition for their intellectual future is a text message from a cyber pal that reads: “lol omg td2m but ctn pos b3 b4n bbs (: ”. Translation: laugh out loud oh my god talk dirty too me but can’t talk now parent over shoulder blah, blah, blah bye for now be back soon smile. And, I think out loud O-M-G! Enough already! Pleeeeeeeease make it stop! Or, in the lexicon of the new language – OMG EA PMS!

But I’m patient. I’m a parental professional. Yeah, I’m good huh? --“lol” (laugh out loud). I’m moving and grooving “cuz” (because) I’m in the know of the cyber mojo.  I am the Downtown Daddy. But, I still want to cut their freeking little fingers off. Ah, but alas, I must remember that I’m the adult. I must stand tall above this tragic form of intellectual degradation even though I’m the one paying an additional $20 bucks a month for their right to squander their time. But, that’s ok. I can take it because I’m the @##$%^ parent! So what do I do with this? What do you guys, you other dad’s do with it? I’d like to know. I know I’m not alone in all this. Talk to me guys!

Challenged with his texting obsession, I decided to do something with my 14-year-old son that I enjoy doing. And, as I recalled, he seemed to be fond of doing with me the previous summer during his bi-weekly trips into the city. It also occurred to me that he would not be able to indulge in texting while doing it. Yeeeesssss! So, on a recent unseasonably hot Saturday afternoon, I asked him if he wanted to cruise up the Hudson River Park bike path on our bicycles? I said we could stop for lunch at that outdoor café we ate at last summer - - located around 72^nd Street under the Joe DiMaggio overpass. He uncharacteristically jumped all over it and said, “yeah Dad, that place is cool, I really like doing that.” I’m thinking to myself, all right then, let’s do it. And, off we went into the great adventure.

Now, given this is about a four mile one way excursion up the river from my home in Tribeca, this meant that he could not text and ride simultaneously. At least I did not think he could even though I had previously observed that he could walk and chew bubble gum at the same time. Wow, off-line for about one half hour. He must really love to bike. Hmmm, but why? I started to wonder just a wee bit about his attraction to this activity. Curiously, I asked him what he enjoyed about biking along the river? To my surprise he didn’t text me the answer, he actually used real words to tell me that he “liked being outdoors. Like, you know, I kinda like to check out the sites and stuff and to like, watch the people -- especially in the summertime”.

What’s the bit about the people watching? Hmmm, I thought to myself, “people watching especially in the summertime”. What was it about those words that made me think there was a more powerful reason than his simply viewing park greenery, colorful flowers and the green sparkling water of the mighty historic Hudson River? I was suspicious. I was probing the not so deep inner sanctum of the male adolescent mind because I, the dad, intuitively knew there was more too this than met the eye.

And then it hit me right between the eyes. It was precisely what met his eyes that were the attraction. Ah ha! The missing bit that led to the discovery of noble truth with a capital “T”. Ah, yes. Yes, of course! Why it’s so obvious fellow dads. He has what we have! And yeah, ok, he’s like 14. Eureka! Sacre Coeure! He’s producing male testosterone in mass quantities and at an alarming rate especially when his twin turbo engines fire up like the Space Shuttle during its launch sequence. OMG! Hellooooo ladies. “TD2M”. Why, it must be the bikini clad female joggers!! No wonder it’s one of his favorite things to do -- it’s his fantasy love fest on a sultry summer afternoon.

I immediately picked up my Blackberry and texted him to get confirmation of my theory. He responded instantaneously and confirmed what I had suspected! Isn’t this great I think too myself with a tear in my eye. We are communicating - - really communicating! I text him back -- good talk son.

Tune in next week for more adventures of the Downtown Daddy! In the meantime, please share your Dad stories, adventures, concerns and advice on my Blog. The Blog for Dad’s, by Dad’s and about being a Dad - - god knows, we need all the support we can get - - it ain’t easy being us!