pot calling the kettle black

Helicopter parents and the damage they do to their own children is a pet peeve of mine. I have been pulled into the fan blades and watched the wounds inflicted enough to go past avoiding the phenomenon to campaigning against it. I observe silently and hyper-analyze after the fact, but I try to stay out of my own children’s interactions with peers. Today I broke my own rule. Forgive me Internet, for I have sinned. Amy has a friend who is much older than Amy. The two girls can spend entire days playing together before hitting that “too much time together” point at which children can only bicker. After several hours of Amy having to be the “bad baby” despite Amy’s protests, I stuck my big fat nose in their game. Older friend gave me the blank face of no reveal. After a moment of processing, she replied to my carefully chosen words with just one word, “fine.” I suspect the retribution for my interference is imminent. Do I feel guilty? Yes. Would I do it again? Yes. I’m a bad mommy.

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