Tidy Up Your Parenting
Did you hear the latest from the parenting experts? Helicopter parenting works, but it doesn’t spark joy. If only there was a way to make it both effective and joyful… Well, now there is! It’s Marie Kondo’s KonMari for Helicopter Parents.
Greet. Begin by closing your eyes. Say hello to your children. Not the real children you’re chasing around the playground. Your imaginary future children. The ones who spark joy. Now, speak aloud some positive, aspirational words to show you love them. If you said “hardworking” or “kind” or “fun,” you are on the right track. But if you said “perfect,” or “popular,” or “winner,” keep your eyes closed a little longer. Think of Peter Pan…he was a special, popular boy. His friends worshipped him. He also lived on a mythical island, wore clothes made of cobwebs, and never lost his baby teeth. Open your eyes.
Visualize. Envision yourself as an actual helicopter, hovering over your kids. This copter is a metaphor, and it comes in a lot of different sizes. Let’s say your first grader struggles in math. You work on subtraction tables at home to help raise his test scores. This is like, an air scooter. An ultralight mosquito chopper that you assembled at home, in your garage. Or did you, in fact, deal with the low math scores by questioning the teacher’s competence, complaining to the principal, then enrolling your son in an after-school class? Hmmm. Does a four-blade twin turboshaft attack chopper with a tandem cockpit just seem like “too much” for first grade? If you’re not sure, ask Joan Crawford, your co-pilot.
Create Zen Spaces. Having arrived at the right mindset, test your skills on a small space. Your teenage daughter, for example, feels excluded. You log onto social media, where you see her friends having a party without her. Following kids on social media is smart-zen; the internet is a modern parenting nightmare. Problem is, you follow your compulsive overparenting impulse and get invested in the drama. You drive to the other kids’ house. You demand an invitation. Witch, your joy chakra is blocked. Get this intense heart opener: Disappointment is part of life, you can’t make friends for her, and you are making her life worse. Take a deep breath. Click on some pet bloopers. Or do literally almost anything else. Namaste.
Pile. Ready to tidy? Make a big stack of all your displaced anxieties and controlling behaviors. Ooh, here is the time your son turned in a sloppy social studies project and to get his grade changed, you told the teacher his grandfather died. Here’s that fun day when you were escorted out of the little league park by a security guard for calling the umpires a diamond of dummies. Here is that email to the theater teacher, cutting off your donations because your daughter didn’t get a role in Mama Mia. Pile it all on the floor. Take a good long look at it. Please, do this while your kids are still young, because if you wait too long to fix that mess, you will end up photoshopping your kid’s head onto a stranger’s body to get them into college. And that pile will be harder to clean up.
Purge. Thank all of these items. For absolutely nothing. Now throw them away. Do it now.
Fold. Know how before you send an angry letter, you should put it in a drawer overnight? Well, good parenting requires similar strategies. Fold up your hyper-reactive behaviors and tuck them away. Stack them in tiny vertical rectangles, so that emotional baggage doesn’t inadvertently tumble out at an inopportune time — like a family vacation in Mexico — and culminate in an explosive statement about the “kind of losers who take gap years.” Do you want spring break to be remembered for hot tears, cold enchiladas, and your daughter’s observation that “This is why nobody likes you?” Tiny. Vertical. Rectangles.
Personal Transformation. Why is this so hard? Why can’t this be fun, like cleaning on TV with Marie Kondo? The answer is simple. Marie Kondo is sweet and lovely. Never in human history has there been a grown woman who looks that cute holding a big-ass umbrella. But Marie Kondo is not your cleaning lady. She’s the self-help version of a honey badger in a petite cardigan. She has come to unclutter your house by tidying up your head, and head cleaning is serious business. Because really, is there anything more painful than living in a hoarder house full of stuff you don’t need and can’t find? Why yes, there is: Living vicariously through your children.
Joy. Joyful cleaning feels like holding a puppy. Joyful parenting is the same. There are different helicopters, though. And different puppies. You don’t want the puppy who your kids begged you to get, but can’t ever take care of, because they are too overscheduled to chill with their adorable pet. You want the puppy who your kids take for walks, occasionally, when you remind them. Who licks the tears off their faces when they lose a game. Who gnaws on their shoes while they do their own homework. This puppy will become a very good dog. This puppy will also become an excellent companion for you when your kids grow up, go off to college, and move away forever. Congratulations! Wait, are we still talking about joy?
