Parental Overfunctioning Is A Sneaky Bastard

Here's something I've learned about helicopter parenting: it's only obvious when someone else does it.

I don't think I'm a helicopter parent? While my kids were away at college, I didn't intervene with their professors and bosses, or request daily text updates or swoop in to solve their every problem. I paid for dorm stuff but it was modest in volume and mostly necessities.

Parental over-functioning isn't always so clear-cut, though, is it? You don't always recognize it in the moment. Circumstances and needs and timelines vary so much!

Who decides when "engaged" tips into "helicopter?" Is my definition of "just enough" too much? Should I have sent my son off with hand-me-down towels instead of buying a new set at Target? Is that whoosh whoosh whoosh I'm hearing the sound of propeller blades? 🚁🤷‍♀️

Sam’s dorm drop-off

My friend, Meagan Francis, wrote an article for The Atlantic about parental dorm decorating. I appreciate that it's not yet another entry in the annals of parent shaming. She points out the hazards of going to extremes but not without compassion for the pressures and feelings that might motivate a parent to go there, like, say, the anxiety and grief that comes with moving your kids out? Not everyone feels that way, but for those of us who do there aren't many places to express it.

I may not process grief through decorating, but color-coordinated throw pillows and desk accessories might be just the thing to ease another parent's heart through a difficult time; a parting flourish of care and comfort, a tender marking of the passage from one home to another.

Mirabai’s dorm drop-off

The dorm days are behind us; both my kids have graduated and moved back in with us as they plot their next steps.

Adjusting to life in the same house again comes with its own challenges, including the temptation to over-function as a parent. It doesn't look like a five-star bedroom makeover, but it's always lurking.

People talk about young adults regressing when they return home, but I notice myself sliding back into behavioral grooves we've all outgrown. The post-college transition can be tricky, and my reflexive urge to problem-solve is tangled up with my love. This might have been helpful a few years ago, but now that my kids are adults my "help" risks slowing their independence. I can be too much but sometimes I can only see that after the fact.

I thought I had my self-control dialed in as I prepared for the kids' return, but now that we're in the thick of it I need to course correct. I need to "suggest" less, better tolerate everyone's discomfort (including my own), and recommit to my own projects and priorities.

It's only been a couple weeks since my kids got home, too soon for grand pronouncements. But I can say this:

Parental over-functioning is a sneaky bastard.

My "just enough" might turn out to be too much or too little. I'll just have to keep adjusting.

Someday — maybe soon — I'll be able to look back and see the error or genius of my ways. But for now, I'm taking a breath and reminding myself that I love these two kids and am trying my best. Today, that's more than enough.