Overprotective

I tend to err on the side of hovering. I don’t think I’m quite a helicopter mom (do we even use that phrase anymore or have we changed it to attachment parenting? Hmmm…)

But yes, I tend to hover.

I can’t help it. They’re my bayyyybeeees.

Ahem. Right.

So I attended a family gathering this weekend. It was family from my dad’s side. Which means I’m not close to any of these people. For the record, my dad is the tenth of ten children, so he’s the same age as my first cousins who are his nieces and nephews. So no, not close.

My half-sister was there with her twenty-six year old daughter.

I don’t see my sister very often. She was raised by her mother, I was raised by mine. We’re half-siblings in the fullest extent of the phrase. I always felt more like she was a distant cousin than a sibling.

Her daughter is…weird. Seriously weird. When she was younger and they’d visit, this girl would sidle up to me and then lean. Just lean against me. She very much enjoyed hugging too. It was creepy. Thankfully, she’s outgrown the hugging and leaning but not so much the weirdness.

I asked her if she was working, knowing the answer already. She smirked and said, “No. I admit it, I’m lazy.”

Did I mention she’s twenty six years old. 26!!! She’s never, ever held a job because, as she said, she’s lazy.

As her older, bossier aunt, I should have returned her smirk and replied, “Wow, that’s something to be proud of.”

Instead, I just said, “Yes, a lot of people are lazy but find they have to work anyway to pay bills, buy groceries, have a home…”

During all this, Alyssa and Olivia was sitting on me. Yes, both of them were ON TOP of me. And I wasn’t complaining much.

My sister came up and asked, “Is this something you’re doing to have to put up with your whole life?”

She was talking about their shyness, they’re clinginess.

I just shrugged. “They come by it naturally,” I said. “I was the same way with my mom and I outgrew it in time to perform in the school plays my senior year.”

But you know what? I should have laughed in her face and said, “They’re NINE and FIVE years old. They’re still children. What is your daughter’s excuse?!”

But I’m a fairly non-confrontational person, so I didn’t say what I should have. I just sat and listened to her bitch about Indiana’s screwed up welfare system and how she shouldn’t have to beg for food stamps at the ripe old age of 44 years old. Did I mention she doesn’t work either?

But I don’t really want to go into a rant about welfare and how I feel like it’s there to help people get back on their feet rather than to actually support people for life.

Right, not ranting…

So yes, I appear to be a bit overprotective. Alyssa attended a birthday party yesterday and when she got home, she said her friend and a couple of the other guests wanted to ride bikes around town but the guest of honor’s mom suggested that I might not want Alyssa to do that. And she was right. I don’t live in town, I don’t know the people there. I dropped my nine year old off at a house where a party was being held. I appreciated that the mom chose to make my child stay at that house for the duration of the party.

If that’s overprotective, so be it. I won’t apologize for that.

While at Cedar Point neither Alyssa nor her friend were ever out of my mom’s or my sight. I don’t think that is necessarily overprotective so much as it’s common sense. They’re young girls who need to be watched, to be protected. That’s my job as a parent. And as Alyssa and Olivia get older, I’ll teach them to make good choices, to be aware of their surroundings and the people they’re choosing as friends. And then I’ll pray because I know I won’t be able to over protect either of them forever and that scares the crap out of me.