let it be

I've never been a helicopter parent. I don't know, maybe it's all the birth trauma and then waiting while they get stuff put inside their skulls. Makes day-to-day life a little simpler.

So maybe they've eaten dirt or fallen down a few stairs. Or they've run too fast in the living room and had massive WWF-style collisions. So maybe they've eaten french toast sticks they found under the toy rack in the thrift store, licked the carpet in the hotel (just for fun), flushed a collection of small plastic boats down the toilet, eaten an entire bag of Hot Fries in one sitting and had terrible, explosive consequences. So they've maybe tried to climb out of the cart at Wal-Mart and landed on their head.

I guess you could call me laid-back. I used to be more conscientious about dressing them, though. They always looked cute, wandering unattended in the grocery store. Now they tend to look like Annie's buddies from the orphanage. Brynn dresses herself, out of necessity. She dresses kind of like the Olsen twins, post-adulthood, with the layers and the hobo-wear. Toby has fashion dyslexia, and somedays wears all of his clothing backwards, including his underwear ("so I can see Spiderman!" he explains). I take it all in, and I just let it happen. Someday I won't be so tired, and besides, all those layers and hats should help the next time they fall out of the basket.