I'm A Recovering Hovering Mom

Hi, I'm Wildflower, and I'm a hoverer.

To me this means: I worry about my kids, a lot.  And I worry out loud to them, and I annoy them with my concern and questions.  I'm not proud of this.


I remember feeling annoyed at my mom for the same kind of behavior.

"I'm fine, Mom.  No, I don't need a fourth umbrella in case it rains.  No, I'm not hungry, nor do I want a granola bar in my pocket.  Like I said, I'm fine."  Roll the eyes and sigh.

Apparently, hovering is in my genes, along with moles and a recurring need for root canals.


Recognizing my problem and admitting it to others is a good step, right?


My hovering tendencies were in full force today as we visited Child #1, 100+ miles away, where he is working as a camp counselor for the summer.  Except for a little over 24 hours every weekend, he will be there until mid-August.  Two weeks down.

He looked weathered and shaggy and older as he walked towards us and hugged me.  It was apparent that very little sunblock, or shampoo, or astringent, or fingernail clippers had been used.  I would venture that not much underwear changing had happened, either.  I caught myself annoying him with my concern and questions.

But, he had a new confidence about him that made me feel pride and loss all at the same time.

He is doing something difficult, and he is doing it just fine without any daily or hourly help from me.  He's not loving every minute of it, either, which makes me respect him even more.

This kid has caused me buckets of tears over the last few years.  He has made countless choices that have utterly shocked the hell out of me, and not in a good way.  His brain is still as mystifying to me as quantum theory.  This causes me to fear.  Which causes me to hover.

This is the kid, for whom last year I was researching wilderness programs and alternative high schools, because that was the direction he was heading.   I had/have serious doubts about his future and little faith in his decisions, which has caused me to hover even more.  I have done my part in straining our relationship.

Several months ago I was feeling crazy dealing with him.  I took my new 12-step brain, an old shoe box and some sticky notes into his room, and told him I was surrendering him to God.  I explained that I was worrying too much about him and taking on too much responsibility for choices he was making.  I then told him everything about him that I was surrendering to God.  I wrote them each out on a sticky note and dropped them in the box.

He stared at me blankly as I did all this.  "OK, Mom."

That was the beginning of some miracles.  One of those miracles was the way he got this summer job.  Another was a really great jr high choir teacher.  Then we found a counselor he trusted.  Positive things started to be sprinkled in with the negative.

I've been amazed at things that have happened without me hovering around to make them happen.  Part of my recovery is giving up that illusion of control.  I don't know what someone else needs, even if he is my own son, but God does.


Hovering is my reaction to fear.  I fear that this kid will fail.  But, wait, he's already failed in many ways, and we've all survived it.   I fear that I will fail.  And yet, I've already failed in many ways, and I've survived it.  Aren't we all here to fail?

I hear those invisible people in my mind saying he will never make the summer, that he'll do something stupid and get kicked out.  Maybe he will.   Maybe he will fall on his face and fail.  And maybe he won't.   I could hover from a distance all summer long, and it wouldn't change a thing.   God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change....