Helicoper Buzzing

I have read some interesting posts recently about "helicopter moms."  The idea is that they are always buzzing around fixing things, their children never experience consequences and grow up helpless and confused.  I want my kids to grow up to be self sufficient and successful in whatever life path they choose.  But by some standards I am a helicopter mom.

One post referred to the mom making breakfast and lunch for children who were older than 5.  The horror!  Gasp and dismay!  So I thought I would put another slant out there as to why I cook breakfast and cook lunch for and with my kids.  And supper too, if K is working that night.

My eldest is on the autistic spectrum.  He can not read body signals worth a plug nickel.  He to this day can not tell when he is hungry, thirsty, hot or cold with any amount of reliability.  He often confuses one for the other. He also doesn't particularly enjoy eating so he will not eat unless it is put in front of him at a set time.  If left to his own devices, he doesn't notice hunger, and either gets a migraine or passes out.  I'll helicopter thank you as opposed to those two options!

My 13 y/o came to us at 5 from a situation where he had experienced trauma and neglect.  Food was  then and remains today,  huge to him.  By and large we have eliminated the hoarding, though it still rears its gross little head from time to time.  At 5 he remembered being hungry.  He remembered situations where the kids scrounged cold hotdogs because there was not someone able to cook for them. It was proof to him that adults were not to be trusted to take care of kids.   For him, cooking for him, putting enough food in front of him, is reassuring.  It is an act of love. It is in a weird way, probably the first way he began to attach to us.  Luckily I don't mind cooking!  I like to cook with the kids help and they all are pretty accomplished at it all ready. (with the exception of my eldest who is hampered by his disability but can do microwave reheats) I still get all their breakfasts in the morning, but now, I hang back a bit for the extras that go with the humungous breakfasts at our house.  My 13 y/o will get himself that 3rd piece of toast or another cinnamon bun or scone.  He can do for himself, but the reassurance of the fact that I will do it and do it consistantly are a key part of how we built our bond together.