Battle Hymn of the Helicopter Mother

If you ever meet me at a playground, I am the mother who is always circling, eyes darting between the two blond boys who are either leaping off of some sort of playground equipment or trying to climb up the slide that all the other children are trying to go down. I love to meet other mothers and would love the chance to chat but keeping an eye on my boys frequently causes me to walk away in the middle of a conversation. It's not that I am not interested in what you are saying but Max is dangling upside down from some sort of climbing web and I need to stop Drew before he tries to make the bushes his own personal potty!
    I haven't always been such a flake when it comes to adult conversation. When my oldest child was under a year old we joined our first playgroup. I remember sitting and having great conversations on everything from cloth diapers to the best way to conceive a girl. Drew would just sit at my feet and never wander more than an arm's length away. As he got older and after Max was born I noticed myself being pulled away from more conversations. It wasn't until one particular play date that I realized any hope of normal adult conversation was futile if my kids were anywhere in sight.
    Max had just started walking and Drew was going through an aggressive phase. I was talking to some of the other mothers in our playgroup while Max rolled a ball around near my feet. Drew was playing in the bouncy house with some other children when I saw him get shoved down, so I ran right over. Now most of you will assume I ran over to make sure he was okay, this however, is not the case. I know my children well enough to know that he was perfectly fine, but I needed to get to him before he went "Twilight" on the other child. Now we hadn't had any biting issues in awhile but I knew that look and luckily I got to him just in time. I picked him up relieved to have averted that crisis, turned around to get Max so we could leave, but Max was no longer there. With my almost three-year-old on my hip I gave the area a once over, searching for my one year old. He wasn't there. Just then his little body peeked out from behind the door and teetered into the hallway. Relieved, I followed suit, headed after him and called it a day!