Scooter Tween and the Helicopter Mom

While pundits and mainstream media rehashed the good old/bad old days of W and Dick, Scooter and Rummy, Condi and Colin last week, my husband and I were focused on important matters of state in our household:  Do we, or do we not, obtain a pink, Vespa-like mini-scooter for our 12-year old daughter?

Now, believe it or not, this was a big decision.  If we purchased the scooter, it was because she wanted it, not because it was her birthday or Christmas or 5^th grade graduation to middle school.  Not always the best precedent to establish with a kid whose taste is maturing, i.e., becoming more expensive to satisfy. 

And then there was the matter of putting the darn thing together.  My husband is talented and patient (he actually reads directions, unlike moi) but would this push him to his limits?  Would it take hours?  Days? Weeks?

The reason why I ask questions around timing has to do with one of my husband’s most endearing qualities:  Once he starts something (like yard work) it can take him a little while (weeks?) to finish the task (clearing up the debris from his efforts and putting it in the garbage pail, instead of next to the garbage pail, which I then have to climb over to put items into the recycling bin…you see where I’m going with this). 

Let me quickly add in anticipation of his reading this post that I also love him more than life itself most of the time, and appreciate everything he does for our family always (Applause, please, he deserves it!).

Moving on. 

As for the scooter question, my ultimate concern, of course, was not about how long it would take to assemble, or even how much it cost, as long as it was on sale, although it was going to cost more than I would have liked us to spend.  My concern was for safety.

This little scooter can go.   Its top speed is 10 miles per hour which is pretty fast if your roadway is a pipe stem.  There’s also not a lot of space to balance both feet once you get the thing in motion.  Then there’s the fact that it can go up to 10 miles on one charge – which means it’s only a matter of time before my daughter will actually, really, no fooling want to drive that thing somewhere.

I won’t let her walk to our neighborhood school alone.

Now I admit that I’m a helicopter Mom; I do tend to hover.  But the closer she gets to 13, the more I know I have to give her the opportunity and responsibility to try new things, go places with friends, wear make-up, etc., etc.   I am improving in that department; I actually let her go the movies at the local mall recently with two girlfriends – alone – while I shopped during the movie.  I found out about the boys they met there later.  Sigh.

She’s growing up and I can’t reverse the process.  Soon the scooter will morph into a Subaru or something.  In any event, we purchased her vehicle (all electric!) simply because she deserved it.  She puts up with us, doesn’t she?

My husband put it together in record time.  And I disposed of the box it came in.