The Village

I have lots of memories of playing outside as a child without adult supervision.  We built forts in the woods, walked to the creek, and played hide-and-go-seek until bedtime.  All while our parents were inside making dinner or cleaning up dinner or watching TV.  I honestly don't even know what they were doing.  In a lot of these memories, I'm a bit older than my kids, but my younger siblings were always with me and I have one memory in particular I want to share.

 I can't be sure of my exact age, but I know we moved from that house when I was 6.  I know it was warm and my birthday's in the fall, so that makes me think I might have been 5.  And that would make sense, because my mom was probably inside with my 3 year old brother and infant sister.

I decided to play cowgirl using my bike as the horse.  And I would need boots and a hat, of course.  I pulled some dress up clothes out of the playroom and went back outside to ride my bike wearing boots and a hat.  The boots were way too big and I had a lot of trouble staying on the bike.

The yard was huge to me.  I mean, it was like a field.  I haven't been back to that house as an adult, so I have no idea how big it actually is.  Our neighbor, who seemed miles away at the time, was sunbathing.  I think she was a teenager, but I really can't be sure.  Five year old memories do not translate well into adulthood.

So I tried and tried to ride the bike, but because the boots were so big my feet were never actually pushing on the pedals.  The empty toes of the boots just bent up and applied no pressure to make the bike move forward.  I fell over and over again.

Suddenly the neighbor was there beside me in her blue bikini.

"Are you having trouble?" she asked.
"I think your shoes are too big.  Why don't you put your sneakers back on?" she suggested.
"But I'm a cowgirl." I replied.
"Well, how about when you're riding your horse you wear sneakers and change into the boots while your horse rests?"

I lit up at the idea.  She helped me put my shoes back on, then walked back to her blanket and book.  And I played cowgirl.  Switching shoes each time I got on or off the horse.  What a perfect idea.

For whatever reason, that memory is burned in my mind.  When I think of playing as a child, it's always one that pops up.  I have no idea how long I was outside without my mom.  I have no idea what the neighbor's name was.  But it seemed like she was my savior in that moment and it seemed like I was out there all day.

Fast forward to now.  I don't like my kids to be out of my sight.  I try to let them play on their own, but when it's not in the house, that's really hard for me to deal with.  So I made a decision recently.  I was going to force myself to allow them free play, on their own.  If you've heard about the Silver Spring family that's been brought up on child neglect charges for allowing their 6 and 8 year-olds to play at a playground without adult supervision, you'll know the term Free Range Parenting.  I'm not sure I'm as free range as some people, but I'm trying to be that, if just a little bit.  I don't think my mom had a name for it.

I started letting Ainsley and Freddie go, by themselves, to the basketball court in our neighborhood.  It's not far.  They can be home in 2 minutes.  I don't have to walk far before they can hear me call them.  They know about strangers and never going anywhere with anyone unless we know.  I quiz them on this before they leave the house.  Every. Single. Time.

They don't get long.  Maybe 30 minutes before someone is checking on them.  So a couple of weeks ago, I walked down to check on them and they were playing with another girl in the neighborhood.  They were building a tee pee.  They had found huge sticks in the woods and dragged them onto the court.  The situated them in the basketball hoop to create a structure.  I was kind of amazed and I had to admit to myself that if I had been there with them, they never would have done that for a couple reasons...

1 - When I'm around, they expect me to entertain them.  They want me to play with them.  In the house they prefer to just watch TV than to play without me.  And unfortunately, I'm the grown up so someone has to not play and make dinner.

2 - If I had been there, I would have nagged them to watch for dog poo, and not to play with sticks, and you can't use the hoop, and be careful in the woods.

Instead, they had been left to their own imaginations and own rules within the boundaries I had set.  And at that moment, I was sold on the idea.  I would need to push away my own fears and worries so that they could actually have these experiences.

There are rules.  Freddie can not be by himself.  He has to be with Ainsley.  Ainsley is allowed to play outside by herself or with friends in 30 minute blocks.  She has to stay where she tells us she's going and she's not allowed to go in any one's house.  Even friends we know.  When they are bike riding, Freddie has to stay on sidewalks unless a grown up is around.  Ainsley has proven that she's very good about watching for cars, so she can ride in the street.  We talk about strangers every single time they go out.

They've had so much fun with this.  This is the first time, ever, that they've really spent time outside.  We don't have a yard, so I've never just been able to let them play in the yard while I watch from the deck or the kitchen window.  They're both covered with scraped knees and dirty feet.  It reminds me of the way I played as a kid, without play dates, and bounce houses, and organized functions.

Here's the one big difference.  The village is gone.  That mentality that we should all look out for one another and bring each other up instead of pushing each other down.  It's like what I ask my kids when they have to tell me something about someone else.  I say "Are you telling me this because someone is going to get hurt or do you just want to see that person get in trouble?"  We try and teach our kids not to tattle, but society has become one big game of tattling on one another.

That neighbor that came over to help me.  I don't remember her ever talking to my mom.  That doesn't mean it didn't happen...I was 5, what did I know?  Yet she still watched out for me.  She didn't call the police, she didn't knock on my mom's door and condemn her for her parenting choices.  She saw a little kid having issues and she helped.  Period.  When I was a kid, my whole neighborhood watched out for me.  Everyone on the street knew my family and if I fell or needed an adult, there were plenty around.

My kids won't have that and that's sad.  I bet it was nice when you had a whole network of people to lean on if you needed it as a kid - or a parent.  So instead, we'll teach them how to take care of themselves on these 30 minute excursions, and we'll teach them to watch out for one another and any other kid that's with them, and in the end I think they'll end up being better adults for it.  Hopefully ones that don't tattle. Ones that know how to build a village.

Little Miss Thaaang

This is my Ainsley the week she was born.

And here she is at her first birthday.

She has just turned four in this picture.
 

Cute and sweet, right?  Right.  She has always been so sweet.  I would dare say, she's just about perfect.  She listens, she hates getting in trouble, she helps out, she's a good girl.

This is Ainsley on the first day of first grade.

This picture sums up my daughter these days.  Hand on hip, check.  Cutesy head tilt, check.  Attitude, check.

There is a body snatcher in her first grade class.  I sent my sweet little girl and got back Miss Attitude.  There are fights, and tears, and screams, and door slams.

After 3 weeks of this attitude every day at the bus stop, I had to take a step back and really look at the situation.  Honestly, I was tired of losing my mind and fighting with her every. single. day.

Little girl has plenty of attitude and sass.  She's definitely feeling high and mighty these days, so she needs to be taken down a notch.  I think Ainsley has been put in "time out" of some sorts more these past few weeks than she has in her first 6 years of life.  I'm trying not to let the attitude escalate.  She back-talks, she goes to her room.  She speaks nasty, she gets an extra chore.  She's ugly to her little brother, she gets a time out on the stairs.  She throws a fit and acts like a 2 year old, I treat her like a 2 year old and take away 6 year old privileges.

But you see, that's the easy part.  There's another component to this tug of war.  Me.

Again...this is my sweet baby girl.

And I think in some way, I will forever see her this way.  Big blue eyes, round face, bald head.  When really, this young lady stands before me.

A young lady who is just starting to find her way.  A girl who is testing the waters and yearning for independence.  A little kid, on the brink of becoming a big kid...finding her own path and desperately wishing to be grown.

It's my job to preserve her innocence, to let her be young.  But it's my responsibility to let her be free and become the strong, independent woman she'll be.

That balance is proving difficult.  I'm not quite sure how to be this parent.  For 6 years Clif and I have had to do almost everything for our kids.  We've known their every move, haven't let them out of our sight.  Now, she's beginning to pull away and part of the attitude is coming from me not letting her.

So I'm trying.  Trying to let her wander the little girl clothes in a store, while I look at shoes.  Still where I can hear/see her, but not right at my side.  Trying to let her walk ahead of me from the bus stop, still stopping at every street crossing.  Trying to let her play outside without me hovering, as long as she stays in a certain spot.

Ainsley is our oldest, so she will get the most bruises from this bumpy path.  By the time Cohen is flexing his wings, we'll be pros.  But Clif and I were both the oldest, and we turned out...okay...I think.  Parenting is the ultimate dead end job.  In order to be successful, you absolutely have to make yourself unnecessary.  The pay is terrible, but the benefits are the best around.

Letting Go

Each step your child takes towards an independent life is both exhilarating and crushing.  To see this little kid take a gigantic leap forward is amazing.  I mean you knew her when she was squirmy and tiny and could barely hold her head up.  And that was just a few short years ago.

We've been working on bike riding.  It's going way better than I could have imagined.



Freddie's already coasting for a few seconds at a time on the balance bike.  Ainsley is pedaling so fast that I can barely keep up with her.

I hold the bike as she climbs on.  She says "Okay, we will go really fast down the hill then when we get to that black mailbox you let go.  Or I will tell you to let go."

I hold her shoulders and she begins pedaling, I don't even have to push, just steady every once in awhile, but really she's gotten that down too.

I run beside her and she screams "Let go, let go!"

But I can't, not completely.  I still sense her shakiness.  I can feel the wobbles in her balance.

She's ready to make the leap and go on her own.  I'm afraid to see her fall.

My Little Fashion Disaster

Ainsley has been...difficult when it comes to clothes lately. She wants to pick out her own outfit before bed each night. She wants to dress herself. And...she only wants to wear dresses.

I really have no problem with any of these pushes for independence...except she's seriously lacking in the winter dress department.

Also I was sick this week so laundry took a back seat to falling asleep on the couch.

Needless to say, this outfit...

was us hitting rock bottom this week.

At what age do I attempt to explain the basic fashion laws? Like polka dots, gingham and flower print should not be worn together after Labor Day.