[Source: Notes from the School Psychologist]
by Dr. Rebecca Bell Branstetter

I think of my life in two phases: now and B.C. (before children). Before having my own children, I rolled my eyes at the so-called “Helicopter parents” who rescued their children from disappointments and frustration. Or, if we are keeping up with the latest judgmental term for moms, I would have rolled my eyes at the “Snowplow” moms who move all obstacles out of the way of their precious unique snowflakes.
To be sure, as a school psychologist, I have stories of extreme parental hyper-involvement that evoke the collective societal eye roll. One time, I had a mom burst into my office while I was counseling a girl. She screamed, “I was listening outside this door and my daughter is lying! I never said that!” Um…no. Or there was the time when I was doing an assessment with a middle school boy for learning differences and the mom came in my office in advance to make sure the desk was ergonomically correct. She straight plopped into the chair and measured the distance to the worktable. And I kid you not, I left to go to the restroom and when I came back, she was on a chair with some sort of Volt-o-Meter making sure that the lighting was correct.
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