Hello, I Am a Lawnmower Parent

Am I a terrible parent? A terrible person in general? Because I have decided, it is time to let my kids fail.

Helicopter parent is defined as: A parent who takes an overprotective or excessive interest in the life of their child or children. 

Hello, hand raised high in the air. I am obsessed with my kids.

I have LONG linked that definition to my parenting style, until recently. Just a few short months ago I was introduced to a new term (new to me, but I am always behind the trends… I am cool like that).

Lawnmower / Snowplow Parenting.  Oh friends, prepare yourself.  Because this?  This is me!  To.  A.  T.

Lawnmower or Snowplow parenting is when the parent will intervene or “mow down” any person or obstacle that stands in the way of them, saving their child from any inconvenience, problem or discomfort. Recently, society has witnessed this on a grand scale. College entrance scandal anyone?

While I sadly don’t have half a million dollars to get my kiddo into a particular college (eye roll). I am a much poorer version of this example. Think leaving work to rush a forgotten item to the school. Innocent enough right? I have a flexible employer, I can leave if I need to. What’s the big deal if I review all of their homework assignments to ensure it was done correctly. They need to know how to do it. I can prod them along in the morning with instructions on what to do next, even though they are old enough to know.

That’s just part of being a mom, isn’t it? All of these things mean no harm. Except I do them, times a million.

The thing is, now they are in the teen and preteen years, and I am watching the path that I have paved. The path that I have mowed down if you will. Despite having amazingly bright kids (if I do say so myself), I watch as they stand confused in the face of a decision. They are lacking in problem solving capabilities. They don’t have to figure out how to handle a situation, because they have all been handled by me. They crumble if they didn’t get the perfect grade or finish on top. I console them as they doubt themselves, all because they “could have done better!”

I have snubbed my nose at the generation of participation medals.  Always believing that you need to learn how to lose gracefully, learn how to win gracefully. But what I now see is that I was snubbing my nose at a version of myself. It is all related. This idea of doing anything for your kids. Going to any lengths. Because that is part of the parenting deal, right?  Doing anything and everything you can to ensure they are healthy, happy, kind, vibrant people. What parent wants to see their child disappointed or unhappy?

I am afraid that in my pursuit of their continual happiness and comfort, I have done them a disservice of knowing they are strong enough to get back up when knocked down. Robbed them of the gratification of achieving something all on their own.  Not given them enough credit of seeing the rainbow through a storm cloud. I have failed them in this area. How can I expect them to know how to handle a situation that has always been handled for them?

I am not quite sure yet how to walk that thin line of doing your best to protect your child while teaching them life’s lessons, good and bad. But I am trying. I won’t go through book bags to ensure they got all of their homework. I won’t ask them to breathe in my face to check their breath. I won’t email a teacher and ask for clarification on an assignment. Despite the itchy feeling it gives me to my core, I won’t do what they are perfectly capable of doing themselves.

I have just a few short years left with my kids under my roof. Just a few short years until the world attempts to chew them up and spit them out. And while I want those years under my roof to be ones filled with joy and happiness. I also want these years to be filled with character building of them knowing they can do it. The good and the bad.

Because they can. And they will.