From "latch key" kids to "helicopter parents"?

I got the "you're a bad parent" scowl from another parent as I was leaving Emerson's school after dropping her off this morning. You all know what I'm talking about, don't you? It's the furoughed eyebrows, pursed lips and disapproving "Well I certainly wouldn't have done that!" look mastered for centuries by Catholic nuns and German nannies who's first and only name is always "Frau".

The school where Emerson goes has a very nice drop off system in the morning where all the cars snake around in a big "S" shape so that at the end of the "S" your kids open the door and run up to the school door without having to cross through the parking lot. As someone who's primarily responsible for dropping the kids off in the morning and likes to be to work at a reasonable hour, I like this system a lot and have been one of the very few parents with a child as young as Emerson who utilizes it.

A lot of other parents still walk their kids in K4 in to the school, and that's great. It saves me time, it's safe, and most of all it gives Emerson a little bit of managed responsibility. After we've stopped and it's her turn to get out, she really likes unbuckling herself, saying goodbye to Carter and I, and negotiating the roughly 29 foot drop from the door of our SUV to the ground. Her escape method is always a bit precarious, but practicing not slamming your fingers in the car door 5 days a week really beefs up the hand-eye coordination.

My one rule for her after she's out the door is that she has to run up the steps - where there are two teachers always watching the morning drop off ritual - to class so by the time I've pulled away, I know she's safely in school.

Anyways, while I was driving away after dropping her off, I noticed out of the eye that wasn't watching her run up the stairs in the rearview mirror that there was another parent getting her own K4 student out of her parked car giving me the afore mentioned scowl. In my minds ear, I could hear the distinct voice of Dana Carvey playing the "Church Lady" on Saturday Night Live saying, "Wellllll, Dan Cody is one of THOSE parents then is he?" or something equally disapproving.

It got me thinking as I drove to Carter's school (He does get the walk in and hug goodbye treatment still) about how a lot of parents seem to be a lot more overprotective in general than what I remember when I was a kid.

We got a bit caught up in all that when we had our first baby of course. Every time Emerson would stir as an infant, we'd be awake and ready to spring into action. Or when it was below 40 degrees, we would dress her in clothing that would normally been found on the body of a scientist studying polar bears in the Arctic Circle.

Like most parents, we eased up on the overprotection after a while. So much so that Carter is now one of the top knife jugglers in the 2-4 age bracket for the latest reality TV show to exploit children. I'm half joking of course.. he hasn't yet graduated from flaming bowling pins, but I digress.

But I still see a lot of parents out there who insist on hosing their kids down with Clorox every time they touch the handle of the shopping cart or use the swings at the local park. I have a feeling the mother I received the scowl from this morning fits into that camp and buys Purell by the 40 gallon drum.

But as a child I also remember things a little differently, and I suspect many of you do as well. I remember as a fifth grader walking the three blocks from our house to school every day with two littler brothers in tow and making sure they got home as well when school was done. How often do you hear about or see that happening these days? As parents, we were the first - and only I suspect - "latch key" generation.

Now it seems as though we're reluctant to voluntarily bestow upon our own children the same kind of responsibility that was mostly forced on us. I can't help but wonder why that is.

As a generation that was forced to deal with the repercussions of the new "dual income households" dynamic, we all seemed to make it through OK. Not only did we make it safely too and from school on our own, we managed to stay out of trouble until our parents got home from their jobs. Well, except for that one time with the paint bucket and washing machine. Sorry dad.

I often wondered how we managed to go from one of the most independent generations of children to one of the most overly protective generations of parents.

It's something that I personally want to changed. I see the positives in raising children who learn to do things on their own and feel the satisfaction from figuring out something on their own. It's one big reason why I like to let Emerson run up to school every morning on her own. In a world where children are shielded at every turn by their parents from anything and everything that has even a remote possibility of harming them, it's good once in a while for them to learn that they can successfully navigate this world on their own without the kind of harm their parents are constantly fretting about.

Speaking of getting hurt, the parent who gave me "the scowl" this morning was so busy telegraphing her disapproval of my cavalier parenting style towards me that she wasn't paying attention while getting her daughter out of her car seat and managed to bump her little head on the door. Thankfully, Emerson's class mate seemed more stunned than actually hurt, but I couldn't help but think about which one of us was doing a better job at looking out for the safety of our children.