Into every childhood there must fall some skinned knees. Some bumps and bruises and yes, maybe even some crutches. The "be carefuls" I hear in the park make my heart sink a bit. When we set our little ones down in the sand, should we check for choking hazards or should we should hand them a shovel and tell them to dig to Middle Earth?

I'm a hoverer. I admit it. I'm coming out of the closet. I'm getting a T-shirt made. In this free-range age, being called a helicopter parent is anything but a compliment. In fact, it seems like supervising your kids and trying to keep them safe and secure is something to be ashamed of. But I'm not. Not at all. Kids are our most precious commodity. We say this, yet we take their well-being so lightly sometimes. The line between fostering independence and ensuring safety is often dangerously blurred today. Yes, in our day we ran around like feral cats till dusk. But these are different times, and I fear that many parents are missing the point and failing to strike the right balance