CI’m that mum, the helicopter mum that follows my child around the park the whole time.
The one you roll your eyes at when you see the worried look on my face if I lose sight of my child for a split second. Getting to the park itself took so much energy. We had to fight through his anxiety. It was such an achievement to even get him out of the car.
To you and your friends, I look overprotective. You might even think at first glance that I need to let him be more independent, but going to the park for us isn’t as simple as it is for you.
In my head, I am scanning the area to make sure Isaac cannot escape because he would run off without hesitation if a gate is left open. My beautiful boy has no sense of danger; he loves to watch cars drive past and wouldn’t think twice about running in front of a car he liked just to get a closer look.
I’m also here, watching his body movements closely. Checking that he isn’t getting too overstimulated because that would mean he might start to hit out at other children near him.
I’m listening to everything around me.
Trying to single out any sounds that may cause him to become overwhelmed. As we walk around, I am constantly checking the ground for anything Isaac could put into his mouth, because he will do it without even thinking about the dangers.
I’m listening to the sounds he makes so that I know when to move him to something else—because his annoyed scream means he is becoming possessive over the swings. I’m trying to keep him calm so that he doesn’t have a meltdown, because I don’t want my child to be stared at by adults who should know better.
I don’t want to have to explain that he isn’t having a tantrum. That he is, in fact, communicating with me in the only way he knows how. I don’t want him to get to the point where he loses all control in a place that doesn’t feel safe for him.
I don’t want him to hurt in ways I cannot fix, no matter how hard I try. So I will do everything in my power to stop that from happening. I want him to have the best time possible, so I am right next to him. Making things a little easier for him.
This means I get to be part of all the magical moments.
I get to watch the way his whole face lights up when he smiles and listen to his giggle every time the swing comes towards me. I get to clap every time he makes it to the top of the climbing frame. Cheer for him when he comes down the slide.
It means every time he looks back, he sees my face, and he knows without a doubt that mummy is always going to be there.
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