Helicopter Moms: We are the champions

(Editor's note: Sometimes it's hard to tell whether you're tackling parenthood in the 21st century -- or being tackled by it. This is the latest in a series of reflections by UPI writers.)

CHICAGO, Nov. 10 (UPI) -- Why are we over-programming our children?

I thought of it, although certainly not for the first time, after reading an article in The Times of London about a schoolmistress's plea to parents to let their children just be children.

It really is so obvious, but why is it so difficult to do? My family's life is a whirlwind of work, school, homework, scouts, piano, dance, soccer and choir. When a flier came home recently touting after-school French and Spanish classes for kindergarten through fifth grade, I immediately asked my girls if they were interested. They both declined. I was relieved, yet a bit disappointed.

Why do I, and so many other parents, feel compelled to sign their children up for so many extracurricular activities? Why can't they just go outside and play when they get home from school? Is it because we don't want our children to be bored or because we fear that if we don't get them involved, we will be doing them a disservice that will somehow come back to haunt us? Are we afraid Susie down the street will get that last open spot at Harvard, or even in a top state school, if our second-grader isn't learning how to conjugate verbs in French?

My mother says it was easier being a parent in the '70s. There were fewer distractions and less pressure to compete at the grade school level, she says.

The pressure to perform at a high level at a such a young age hit home when my oldest daughter was in first grade. I had signed her up for gymnastics. I was a gymnast as a child, taking up the sport when I was about 7 or 8 after a gym teacher suggested to my mom that I might have some natural ability -- as well as the requisite small stature

My girls had taken gymnastics as toddlers, starting with Mommy and Me classes. We had taken a break, however, so they could take ballet. By first grade, my oldest decided she'd had enough of ballet. "Too boring," she said. "You get to run around in gymnastics." So back to gymnastics we went.

She loved the classes and seemed to be doing well. Her class was held at the same time as practice for the competitive gymnastics team. Listening to the parents talk in the spectator section, memories of my own gymnastic dreams resurfaced: Trophies, trips to Disney World for competitive meets, the joy of being part of a winning team. I asked about tryouts at the front desk.

"How old is she?"

"She's almost 7."

"Well, most of these girls joined the team when they were in kindergarten. I suppose if she really shows promise they may let her on the team."

She had aged out of competitive gymnastics by first grade.

When did it start getting so competitive for the 10-and-under crowd? Is it an embarrassment of riches? Of living in a community of comfortable homes on tree-lined streets where most of the parents have one, if not two college degrees?

Are middle-class moms just battling the same peer pressure we've faced since we were children or is it the age-old problem of parents trying to realize their own dreams through their children? I think many of us spend our afternoons and weekends shuttling our children from activity to activity because our children keep asking us to sign them up for things and we don't want to disappoint them.

Bitten by the competitive bug, and worried if I waited too long she would be too old, I started to talk to my daughter about competitive soccer once she turned 8. She was good at recreational soccer and really seemed to have a knack for goalie. Did she want to try out for "travel" soccer in the spring? I told her about two-hour practices twice each week and traveling as far as 90 minutes on weekends for games. It would mean, however, that she would have to quit tennis and golf lessons.

My daughter wanted none of it.

"I like to do lots of different things, not just soccer," she said.

"But honey, unfortunately, you really need to focus on one thing if you want to be able to compete," I said. "You need to decide what it is you really want to do."

"But I'm only 8," she replied.

"You're right," I said. "You are only 8."

She has plenty of time to decide who she wants to be.