On Being A YoYo Ma
By Alice Whitmore, a/k/a Lutheran Liar
I am going to riff a little here about “parenting”.
First, let me make my distaste for terms like “parenting” clear. The use of nouns as verbs (“crafting”, “birding”, “blogging”) tends to make my eyes roll heavenward. I mean, if I’m “parenting”, is my daughter “kidding”?
But I must admit that I rather like my new not-yet-trendy parenting term “YoYo Ma”, which I will explain shortly.
But first, have you heard of “Snowplow Parents”? The parents involved in that college admissions scandal at the University of Southern California are great examples of these parents who clear the way for their children, “snowplowing” away any obstacles that might actually challenge them. These Moms and Dads take care of any pesky stuff that might interfere with their kids’ happiness, like homework and term papers, college application essays—and even SAT scores. According to Wikipedia, the term “Helicopter Parent” has been around since 1969. I’m sure you’ve known parents who hover—or maybe you’ve even done your share of same. Speaking of which, somebody told me about a college that had to make a rule to ensure that parents actually left campus after dropping off their freshmen because they found this one Mom who not only slept in her son’s room for a week, but went to all his classes with him.
Well, I admit that my husband and I did actually get in a car and deliver our daughter and her belongings to college. But we didn’t hang around. No, not even to attend the “Welcome Parents” festivities. Instead, we did the sensible thing and headed to the nearest bar.
I suppose that non-hovering must run in my family. I remember that my mom did drive me to college in the fall of my freshman year. But I was the oldest of five. By the time they got to Kid Number Four (my sister Laura), my parents said, “We’re too busy to take you to college; you’ll have to get a ride.” So she did. And ended up marrying the boy who was nice enough to drive her.
But the Mothers of all Hoverers must be parents who go to the trouble (not to mention the expense) of sending their kids to boarding schools—and then rent or buy houses near said schools and move there. I mean, honestly. What’s the point?
Anyway. In spite of our relative lack of hovering (or snowplowing, for that matter), our daughter has turned out pretty well. She’s even become a contributing member of society with an actual paying job (praise the lord).
But is our Nest empty? Well. Not entirely. Our fledgling has friends in New York, and parents who insist on seeing her on major holidays. Which means that just when I’ve become accustomed to the Nest being actually empty, she comes back. Then, after a day or two, when I’ve finally recovered from the shock of a 28-year-old woman inhabiting my child’s body, and I’m relaxed enough to “grab some sushi” and “catch a movie” with her—she’s gone again.
I’m up, then I’m down. I get back up… then down I go. I am a Ma with emotions like a yoyo: A YoYo Ma. And, as my own “Ma” would say right about now, “Sigh”.
Alice Henry Whitmore, a/k/a/The Lutheran Liar, is a writer and a keen observer of human nature, skills she honed while working on Madison Avenue for many years. Now that she is retired from the advertising business, she focuses her attention on her weekly humor blog. Her pieces comment on situations and experiences that Lustre readers share.
P.S. A Lutheran lie is strictly true, but false.