Helipcopter Mum

It's totally official, I am a helicopter mom. I think that you are pretty predisposed to becoming one if you yourself were raised by helicopter parents, but it could really go either way right? I told myself I would let Noah be independent, let him tumble, and just be a kid.

That all went out the window when he fell and got his golf ball-sized goose egg and we had to rush to the clinic. Then a day later he got knocked down by a big kid and hit his goose egg on the floor. *face palm* I gave myself another chance still at the park. I threw away my empty cup and in those 3 seconds, Noah decided he was a big boy now and tried to go down some cement steps like the grownups. This ended in a somersault down said steps and a scraped scalp. It was only three steps down, but still, he's itty bitty. After that he tumbled down the metal staircase of the play structure, hitting his head, and later face planted into another step and hit his cheek.

This is why I am currently an unapologetic helicopter parent, the kind of mother who hovers and is ready to catch her baby and everyone else's babies in the vicinity of her own. If you have seen your sweet baby injured, bleeding or in pain, you know why. My Small Human is solid on his feet, but he has his off days like everyone else. Maybe when he's bigger I can go back to being more laid back, but I am currently on tenterhooks with this zippy 15 month old.

Oh well, good for the waistline I guess. Maybe not so much for the grey hairs. ;) May you all have a glorious May weekend!

xoxo

Even the television knows he's being bad