My husband called ME a helicopter parent!

I am as far from a helicopter parent as they come. I don't hover, attack my kids' teachers' decisions, or micromanage their lives. I'm from the "give them the tools, then let them walk their own path and see where they go" school of parenting. I have been told by multiple people that I'm very laid back as far as my kids go - and that's intentional. Aside from a nasty cashier at McDonald's that we ran into a few months back, I'm watchful but not overprotective of my kids. Even at school I just go with the flow, and up until this year, even through breaking in some new teachers, I've had no trouble letting things unfold as they may and watching my kids learn the lessons of navigating a not-quite-right situation. We've even survived the special education Tilt-A-Whirl in Fairfax County with few bruises. All of this came to a grinding halt when one of my 6 year olds came home from school on the very first day, and my reaction caused my darling, very easygoing husband to call me a helicopter parent. I nearly fell out of my chair.

So Ian came home and mentioned casually that he did something special that day - he went to a third teacher's classroom. This wouldn't mean too much, except that he's in first grade and should only have TWO teachers (and that's plenty if you ask me). At six years old transitions can be problematic, following rules is tough, and behaving the way the teacher wants you to behave all day long is stressful. But at our school, all three of my boys are in Spanish Immersion, so they have two teachers every day. TWO teachers, not three. That first day I chalked it up to a glitch. Ian said that it was his "special time" - a fun time - in this third teacher's classroom. He wasn't 100% sure if he was going back the next day, but he enjoyed his time there. That afternoon I happened to be talking to a parent with a kiddo in one of the boys' first grade classes, and she mentioned that another parent had pulled her child OUT of this very same class a few days before school started because he had three teachers. How this other parent knew the situation before school started I'm still not sure, but she knew and chose to remove him. We were all told a week before classes started which class our kids were in. I saw a sea of new names, only one of which was actually new - the rest had gotten married over the summer or had finally changed to their married names. I wasn't terribly concerned though, no big deal - new teachers - whatever. But that third teacher got me going for some reason. And to make it worse, we later found out that she only spends 30 minutes with these kids - all 7 of them that have this terrible schedule - every day.

So I called the Assistant Principal and she did her best to talk me in from the ledge. Along with not telling us ahead of time about this strange arrangement (the one thing that I'm a Type A on is organization - the rest not so much - but with four kids you have to be a bit organized), they didn't tell the teachers until a few days before school started, didn't explain well when parents started asking, and until this past week weren't even 100% clear on what they were using that 30 minutes for. Actually, turns out it is 20 minutes with 5 minutes on either side for transition, and they will be doing social studies during that time.

So Tom called me a helicopter parent because I not only complained out loud about what was going on, but I had the gall to call the school about it. Then I complained to everyone within earshot (mainly to reassure myself that this wasn't an ideal situation) and then, I did nothing. Yes, nothing. I left my kid in the classes with the three teachers and he's fine. He's enjoying his classes, his teachers, and his classmates. He's had no trouble acclimating, and yet here I am three weeks later complaining once again. Guess I did go a bit helicopter on this one. But geez - calling me a helicopter parent? There's no need for that, now.

This is an original DC Metro Moms post.

Suzie also blogs about school, the kids, and life in general over at Confessions of a Not So Well behaved Woman.