Those Were the Days . . . And so are These

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 

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. 

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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.