helicopter

As my mother mentioned (in the kindest of ways), I'm in the helicopter parenting stage. I hover, and it is the greatest challenge right now for me not to. Because T is the opposite of hovering. He is everywhere all at once. He is spreading out, out, out beyond anything I consider. And he is doing it "just fine, Mama, on my own."

This morning, the rain is coming down. I sip tea, pull on a sweater, fold laundry, and think of dragon stories, map activities, and egyptian indoor fun so that our day is not stunted by this "summer" weather. T provides a soundtrack of "dippty dippty dippty dooooooo! Woo woo woo woo. Ugha ugha bidop bidop. Oh! I'll go outside to play fetch with Tess, Tess, Tess! Are you my good girl? Yes, yes, yes, you are! Mama, can I do fetch? Bah bah bah, birdip birdip birdipty doo...."

I force a rain jacket and socks and shoes instead of flip-flops upon him, and then he is outside. His sounds are outside. And he is doing it just fine, on his own. And I'm here, in the quiet that remains behind, watching, listening. A helicopter idle.