I was a helicopter mom, but before you judge all helicopter parents too harshly, you need to hear my experience.
My gifted son was born into a family of strong, well-coordinated people in a small sports-obsessed town. His cousins were football stars in our little town. His first sergeant dad was retired from the army after having worked in military intelligence and was very physically fit. My son inherited his dad's tall build and long legs. He looked like he should be a really good runner or basketball player. Boys in this town are expected to play sports, push themselves physically, and push through the pain. My son didn't look like he should have any trouble doing this.
From birth, I knew something was different. My son did not have the physical strength to walk until he was 18 months old and it had nothing to do with intelligence or lack of trying. He taught himself to read at two just like his older highly gifted half brother. He loved to learn, but in a sports town that doesn't matter as much as physical skills.
Doctors would only tell us that he had hypotonia. Some people here believed that the only cure for weak muscles is lots of exercise and that I was the reason that he was not stronger. He had to quit scouts because I could not get a doctor's statement stating exactly how far he could hike and do other physical things. I was afraid they would push him to do more than he could do if I let him go to the camps after talking to some of the scouts. All I had was my God-given mother's instinct that this was not a good idea. I was asked to leave while my son took an MMA class once. We had told the instructor that he had hypotonia and by then scoliosis and needed to take breaks. I left but watched from outside. The instructor would not let him take a break when he needed to. Instead he made him do a lot of push-ups and pushed him physically to the point that he got sick. When we complained, he said that it wasn't fair to the other students for my son to rest for part of the lesson so he had to quit that.
We only recently got a diagnosis that includes a heart condition. Interestingly, none of his PCPs noticed any problem, since a connective tissue disorder is very much an invisible disability, and we could not get referrals to specialists we needed until a few months ago and he is almost 15. For the rest of his life he is not allowed to lift more than 50 pounds, he can't do sports, he can't do a lot of things. If he does, it can kill him.
I, with my mild social anxiety issues, had to face people who didn't understand and thought I must be lying about my son's issues. All they saw was a helicopter mom. All I knew was that I had to do what I felt in my gut was the right thing to do for my son and I had to learn to not worry about what other people thought.
