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Those Were the Days . . . And so are These 

5/27/2015

6 Comments

 
Why are there 700 articles about the halcyon days of our childhood? Why are we waxing sentimental about how things used to be, while not just making them that way? We are the deciders, parents. Yes, us. We get to decide how much freedom we will give our children. We get to decide how much mud they get to play in before we sigh with exasperation, how high they get to climb in the tree. We get to decide whether or not they can scooter gang all around the block until dinner. OH MY GOD! Just make it so! However that "so" is, do it.
I think, maybe though, we are scared that we may be judged by other parents on the playground, but the 
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truth is, I am judging them. I am judging them for holding their children back from what they could be. I think maybe sometimes, some of us are scared that all the 24 hour news cycle hype is accurate and that we should all actually be afraid of every fucking thing and everyone all the time because some horrible devastating disaster is lurking right around the corner. Probably in the form of that dark skinned kid with the hoody, or possibly the shady homeless looking guy. It could even be that neighbor you've never bothered to get to know because, really, his lawn is a disaster and who does that?! What the hell?! Most likely, none of those people is posing any threat to our sweet babies and they'll be just fine walking two blocks home by themselves after school. Remember, you taught them about trusting their intuitions and about not looking for other people's lost pets or going close to a stranger's car. You taught them not to slurp from your vodka bottle when you're not looking. If you didn't, you should have! You taught them not to light fires in the house. Come on, give them a little credit. If we never show them that we trust them and think that they are competent, they won't feel competent. They will question their ability to be self sufficient. What a gift we give them when we let them know that we think they're smart, capable and clever. 

This is a dare. It's a call to action (or inaction, depending on how you look at it). Let's stop judging each other, let's let our kids have the childhood that we claim we had, that our parents claim they had. Things are not more dangerous today. They really aren't. We want them to get dirty and climb trees and scooter gang around the neighborhood on their own. Here's how to do it: Meet your neighbors, all of them. Your mail carrier and your UPS driver. Also, the guy that does the lawn next door every Wednesday. The other parents at the park. Meet those people. Make eye contact every time you see them. Introduce your children to them. Then let your kids run amok all over the damn place. 
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6 Comments
Shawna cook
5/27/2015 04:47:59 am

What a great plan!!!

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Monica Barrett
5/28/2015 03:17:02 am

Making connections with the people in their lives who surround them every day- Thanks Molly making them part of the fabric is awesome- the idea of this neighborhood brings me feelings of peace.

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Benno
5/31/2015 03:40:44 pm

So with you! We admittedly have a really low traffic, quiet street... not a lot of cars of people at any given time, so I just don't even mind letting LUcca out to ride his bike. Don't think twice about it. People walk by. Strangers! Whatever. I keep half an eye on my two year old, but she's on her way. They fall and cry. I usually pick them up. But not immediately. Sometimes I'm busy and well, if you try to hot dog on your bike and you crashed again? Well get the hell up and brush off your legs, kid! You're the one that pushed your boundary, and that's good. I remember taking the city bus all the way across town every day around 11 years old. No big deal. Now, some people won't let an 11 year old do that. Vanessa took the city bus from school downtown Salt Lake City to her mom's office, as a first grader! Can you imagine that now? People would call DHS! You'd probably get arrested or something. Shit really was different. And maybe some things were too loose. Certainly people weren't vigilant or communicative enough about sexual abuse. But the stranger danger thing is a bummer. I like your plan: talk to people and then set 'em loose. One good sign is that there are more nature/adventure parks going in, showing that people want to give their kids that experience of climbing around on rocks and logs, doing something more "real" than monkey bars all the time. Ok, I'm rambling. Hi Molly!

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Benno
5/31/2015 03:44:50 pm

I remember we used to wander around in the woods for hours. Without adults. At least, it seemed like that. Maybe we were only gone for 20 minutes. I remember going off for a long time to creeks, to a barn, rope swings of hay bail stacks, totally unsafe rides on three wheelers... haha. Country life was MORE dangerous than the city. Fell out of a tree house, almost started a forest fire. And stuff. In town, it was a different set of possible risks to learn about, but, you know, you figure it out. And a good thing about the fact that I moved through the streets on my own, through rough neighborhoods? Resiliency. And "street smarts". I've been in all manner of sketchy places in various countries, and I have some basic built in street sense. And it serves me well. If I'd been sheltered, I'd probably be a sucka'.

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Walter Chin
10/6/2015 11:41:34 am

Molly, this is a good damn blog!

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Molly link
10/8/2015 12:10:49 pm

Thanks Walter,
You're a smart smart guy. This means a lot coming from you!

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    I'm Molly. I'm all in for parenting.  I'm all in for good food. All in for big and small outdoor adventures. And really only partly in for homemaking. I want a Martha Stewart home and meal, but the truth is, we mamas just can't do it all. Not really. This shit is tricky!
    This is a collection of musings and missives about parenting like you mean it. I mean really mean it. About how you can pull off a really mostly decent meal, keep your house kinda clean, do some of your laundry, and also even remember to usually feed your pets. But mostly about  how being a mama is hard and we can totally rock it, but maybe that dream of perfection has got to give a little.

    Love, 
    Molly

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