The labels are all around us. In the media. In our conversations with other moms. Practically in the air that we breathe.
But, what if you don't fit any of the labels out there? Or, if you fit them all?
I'm definitely not a Tiger Mom. I don't force my children to speak Mandarin at age 3 (really? Mandarin? Who are they going to converse with in Mandarin? Plus, my Chinese relatives are Cantonese. And they speak English, anyway.) I don't oversee three hours of violin practicing a day (are you kidding? I'm lucky if I can get my little Drama Queen to practice three times a week. For five minutes each time. And forget piano. The screaming and tears over practicing were legendary. And that was just me...) Half the time I don't even check over her homework, much less make her redo it because the handwriting isn't up to my standards. As far as I'm concerned, I've already passed 3rd grade and Kindergarten, and I'm no longer responsible for writing book reports. I'm happy to review homework for mistakes, but I'm certainly not going to stand over my children, lecturing them on perfection and excellence. I think of myself more of a Panda Mom--you know, lounging around surrounded by food, chewing slowly, enjoying an occasional nap, moving only slightly faster than a sloth when needed.
And, I'm definitely not a Hipster Mom. I have no idea what's "cool" on the "Indie Scene". I have no desire to wear "ironic" t-shirts of bands that I never saw the first time around. I don't care if my coffee is free-trade or organic--I only require that it has caffeine. I don't even require that it's hot anymore. Just that it's caffeinated. About the only think "hipster" about me is my slouch. But that's due to lifting heavy munchkins, unbagging groceries, having absolutely no core strength, and basically giving up regarding decent posture. It's not hip. It's due to a bad hip.
I'm a little bit crunchy-granola. At times. I clean with vinegar, water, baking soda, and essential oils. I'm beginning to make my own dish detergent and washing machine detergent because I want to avoid chemicals that give me hives. I do not use non-stick pans. In a fit of Dr. Oz induced hysteria, I threw out all of our plastic storage containers and water bottles out of fear of BPA. I've been known to buy organic. But, that's pretty much where I end. If you look in my pantry, you'll find waaaaay too many processed foods encased in plastic. If you look in the bathrooms, you'll find shampoo, conditioner, and lotion with fragrances produced by phlalates. And if the soap scum on my shower proves too much for my baking soda paste, I have been known to sneak a bottle of orange scented Scrubbing Bubbles. Plus, I really look bad in boho fashion...
I'd like to imagine myself more Free-Range than Helicopter. It doesn't bother me when the kids are running around outside without shoes on. MacGyver is cringing with visions of the kiddos stepping on glass and/or dog poop, but I maintain that part of childhood is running around with grass-stained feet, dog poo be damned. I support the excessive playing with dirt and mud. I allow my children to run wild and free in the woods behind our house and at the park in our neighborhood. I do nag about wearing helmets when riding their bikes and scooters, but the kiddos will get around me from time to time (especially in the summer when helmets make them hot), and I have to try to balance safety (and, frankly, the law) with the knowledge that most of us grew up without ever owning a helmet and most of us are okay. Sort of.
But, heaven forbid I hear and unsubstantiated report of a child abduction. Attempted or not. It doesn't even matter if it's in my area. I hear a story about a baby being kidnapped from it's crib, and I'm bolting the windows and doors, and putting on the burglar alarm while we're home, watching TV in "safety". I'll get one step from encasing my children in bubble-wrap and installing a micro-chip with GPS and Lo-Jack in their necks, like a pet. Yeah, I'm all Free-Range until I read my newsfeeds...
And then, there's the weekly disagreement about tree climbing in our family. I firmly believe that tree-climbing is an inherent right for children. That it encourages coordination, allows children to test their limits, and gives them a great sense of accomplishment. MacGyver thinks it's covers them in pine sap that's hard to remove in the tub, and that they'll fall and break their necks. The Wild Man like to climb trees. A lot. He has a favorite white pine that he likes to climb to the very tip top of, and perch like a drunken Christmas tree angel. The top branches tilt wildly to the side, and sway dangerously. I'll just yell to him to "get down right this instant!!! I've told you a thousand times not to climb that high!!! I swear, if you fall and break your neck, you'll have to call 911 on your own and explain this yourself!!!!!!!". MacGyver, on the other hand, would never let the Wild Man get near the tree to begin with. Too dangerous.
So, should we "supervise" (aka, helicopter) the children 24/7 in an attempt to control everything we can about their environment and try to keep them from injuring themselves by simply being children and doing stupid, childish things? Or do we go with the flow and let them explore the world on their own while we get some things done around the house, or--heaven forbid!!!--have a conversation with another grown-up at the park? I know MacGyver has a really good point when he tells me "how would you feel if the WMB fell off the top of the tree and hurt himself?" Yes, I'd feel like crap. I'd probably tell myself I was a terrible mother. I'd curse myself for turning my back and chatting with friends while my son decided to pretend he was a spider monkey.
But then, is it worth it to restrict so many things we did as children, and that generations of children did before us, because we're scared our kids will get hurt? We can't protect them forever. And we can't protect them from everything. And, really, wanting them to be "safe" is more for our own fears than for them. While I will never be truly Free-Range, I hope that I never cross the line into hovering in my helicopter, trying to
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