Tag: letting go

Heli-Texting: A Helluva Habit

One of the Helicopter Mom’s greatest tools is texting. I know many would say the Life 360 App is the best, but, I confess, I have never used it. I’m still old school. I still remember the days when my parents had no idea where I was and what I was doing. And, primarily, for that reason, and the fact that if I used that app, I would be a wreck, I have refused to use it. But my kids use it for each other, so when I am tempted to know where someone is, I tread the unpredictable waters and inquire from one of the kids. But I was a habitual heli-texter. Yes, you heard me right…”was”. I am proud to announce most of my heli-texting days are probably over.

Heli-texting, what the…heck is that? Well, I made up the word last night. Backstory… I live with three nocturnal creatures…my daughters. They go out every night, even after a long day at work or at school. And one of them is like a four o’clocker…almost always a very late night. Horrible conditions in which to quit heli-texting. I don’t know where they are. I have been long exiled into the “need-to-know basis” territory. Much to my chagrin.

Anyway, last night, I was home all alone, all the creatures, even the ones next door, were out. I didn’t know where most of them were. I had been working on ditching heli-texting for almost a month, but I did panic a little last night before I went to bed because one of the kids said they were coming home before going out again. Didn’t come home, didn’t text. So general anxiety panic disorder (GAPD) set in. (I made that up too.) And I fell off the wagon, and began to type out a text, copy it and sent to each of my offspring. To which I got two answers. Then I finally heard noises downstairs from one of those nocturnal creatures who had returned home. I went to check it out. I asked, “Where is everyone?” One of the persons present told me of a potentially harried tale while the other person present tried to throttle him. And all I said, “If they’re home safe, I don’t care.” And I added, “Hey, haven’t you even noticed I haven’t’ been “heli-texting” anymore?” To which, my daughter replied, “Hella texting?” “No, heli-texting…helicopter texting. Hey, I just made up that word.” She wasn’t too impressed. I went back to bed and went to sleep.

Heli-texting, or known as hella-texting apparently in the Bay Area, is helicopter parenting via text. That’s it. It’s blowing up their phones. I even googled heli-texting and couldn’t find any match for that word. Therefore, I hereby unofficially patent the word and take ownership. And why not? I am an expert…albeit a retired one.

I wrote a blog, “Hope For The Helicopter Mom”, about an incident when my oldest son tried to check my rampant heli-texting. Heading over to the City back when he was like 17, he told me I only get five texts. I sweated through the evening and he arrived home safe and sound just using five texts. But that was twenty years ago, it’s only recently that I’ve quit heli-texting.

A few weeks ago, I don’t remember exactly what happened, but as I’ve tried to emotionally distance myself from my grown kids and put the mothering to rest, I decided to quit bugging them via text. Just quit bugging entirely. They’re grown, they’re doing their own things (nail biting) and unless they loop me in, I’ve got to find something else to do. In a conversation on a podcast, the interviewer reiterated some of Jordan Peterson’s words to him: “I heard you recently talk about a mother’s ability to let her child go out into the world knowing that they’re still vulnerable and that it’s now down to them and the world to look after them, that’s one of the bravest things…” To which Jordan Peterson finished the thought, “It’s the female crucifixion.” He went on to describe the Pieta and Mary’s grief after the crucifixion.

Yes!! Letting them go, go out into the world – a place you know is dangerous and evil as well as beautiful and glorious – knowing they are so young and inexperienced is likened to something as traumatic as a crucifixion. Letting them go has been that hard. And what keeps me on track to not worry, be anxious or fretful is that, as a Christian, I am called to JOY, PEACE, LOVE and HOPE, things that cannot survive in the hazardous environment of fear.

Lest you think I’ve arrived at total acquiescence and indifference to my kids’ independence and activities, I do still peak out the bathroom window after I wake up and count the cars, and, sigh a heartfelt “Thank You, Lord.” So what am I supposed to do now? Read my last blog post here.






Ditching the Helicopter

It’s time to hang up my helmet…

Helicopter graphic by the incomparable Breena Nuñez

I’ve been a mom for almost 35 years. I passed Helicopter Parenting 101 with flying colors. My friend admirably remarked once that, “You always know where your kids are!” I was proud of that….but it’s time to retire the whirlybird. My youngest just graduated from high school last week, and promptly moved to LA. What!!!???

I thought I was doing well…trying not to care where they were or when they’re gonna be coming home. Trying to mind my own business (which for three and a half decades was them). But tonight, a friend of my daughter’s was over and they were going out….I “kneejerked” suggested they get something for their brother….their brother who is 28 years old….”a grown man” he always reminds me. Shoot, I can’t undo my meddling or their embarrassment.

So….I am going to retire the helicopter, and entrust these birdies to God. Y’all pray for me because worrying and fretting is in my nature, I inherited it from the best – my dad. We are so thankful he never had a cell phone. But he did just fine with a landline. We all have stories of him tracking someone down who he was worried about. I think Katie has the best stories, he called hospitals, police departments and the CHP looking for her once.

Uhm…I haven’t gone that far…except, maybe, when Eva and Nonnie missed their train stop in San Bruno. They were young, about 14. They both had phones, and both their phones, of course, had died. And it was 10:00 at night. A perfect worrying storm. How I lived through those years, I don’t know. A good and gracious God, no doubt, helped his anxious daughter.

Anyway, I am waiting at the train for these two girls. The 10:00 train, heading towards the City (the only real City – San Francisco) comes…and goes. No girls get off. Huh? Oh no…

I don’t have my phone because I left it with Espi at the house in case they called. OK, maybe they’re getting off at South City. So, I race over there. Nobody is to be found in that scary, desolate station.

So as I was beginning to hyperventilate, I run over to the nearby 7-11 and call Espi to find out if she had heard from Eva. She responds, “Yeah…all she said was that the next station is ‘Bayshore'”.

Oh crap….

Anyone familiar with San Francisco knows that the Bayshore area off 101 isn’t the best neighborhood, especially for two young teenagers, and most especially at night. It’s almost 11:00 now. I race over to the Bayshore station which is not far from a few, uhm, well, uhm, unsavory areas of the City. There is NO ONE there. It’s a large, dark station and I don’t even know where they would’ve even gotten off at. It’s almost 11:30. My blood pressure is climbing. I don’t know what to do.

I run back to San Bruno to my trusty pay phone at 7-11, and call Espi again for any update. None. So what could I do, but go full blown Dad Mode. I call the police, I call the San Francisco Police, the South San Francisco Police and the San Bruno Police. Did I miss anyone? Each of those agencies went and looked for two teenage girls at their respective stations and found no one.

So I go back to the San Bruno station and wait in the parking lot trying to figure out what to do next, fighting off the worst that possibly could go wrong. Not long after midnight, the last train pulls into the station, the train from the City, and off pops our girls.

And in an indignant, but relieved, imitation of my father, I take a deep breath and ask pointedly, “Where the hell have you guys been?”

They weren’t too keen on all the story details when I told them on our way home. Well, too *&^##! bad.

I should’ve ditched the helicopter then…yet, I still had another decade of mothering to go. But, it’s time now to retire the worry, the anxiety and the overseeing. They are on their own. Mission accomplished.

It’s time to let them go, let them go out “the gate” and live their own lives. Their lives which were so much a part of mine. I knew from the beginning I was only a temporary guardian, and that role is complete now. Though they were the stars of my show, I must be happy to be only a supporting character in theirs. It’s okay.

I’m looking forward to a new future…with new experiences and new freedoms. But I will always miss my littles, and I will continue to watch – and pray – from afar, just not overhead.

https://wordpress.com/post/fromtheshoe.com/67 – Hope for the Helicopter Mom