This morning I read an article about helicopter parents. I cried. I am a helicopter parent and for damn good reason. I’m sure that to others I look like an interfering mother who can’t leave her child alone. I’m not, but even if I was, what does it matter to you? I’m the mother who has watched her child break his toe falling softly on a carpet. I’m the mother who has seen her child stumble and not be able to walk for 24 hours. I’m the mother that people stare at in the street when I help him to navigate a simple step. I’m the mother trying to keep your child from being upset when mine wants nothing to do with them. I’m the mother who is aware of the stares and unspoken words. I’m the mother of a child who can’t defend himself when another child pulls him up for wearing nappies. I’m the mother trying to save her child from physical and emotional pain. I’m the mother who looks at photos of her son sitting on a bench desperately trying to support himself with his hands and cries because so many things are difficult for him but he never gives up trying. I’m the mother who fights tirelessly and lays awake night after night trying to figure out solutions to our problems, our challenges. I’m the mother of a child with cerebral palsy. I am a mother who does not need judgement. I am every mother.