Note:   We have been watching a show called MadMen recently.  It reminded me of growing up in the early sixties…when parent’s didn’t try and protect their children from every pitfall.  It’s refreshing.  It reminded me of a post I wrote a while ago so I’m repeating it.

BAREFOOT IN THE GLASS


When did we stop running barefoot?

There was a time when we would fly out the screen door like miniature lightening bolts and by the time the door slammed shut we were already a block away in Francine McNamara’s avocado green kitchen eating a bologna sandwich and drinking lemon-lime kool-aid. We ran with abandon giving no thought to the possibility of encountering a rock, a jagged piece of glass or an uneven sidewalk.

On which trip around the block did we slow down our pace and start looking for obstacles in our path? When did we decide to throw in the towel completely and start wearing tennis shoes?

When we are toddlers we do not understand danger. If you allow a baby less than four months old to crawl across a bed… they will keep crawling until they fall off. A toddler does not conceptualize a fear of fire until he touches it and it is hot… before that it is just a pretty glowing light. We all need someone to guide us through the pitfalls. But what happens when our desire to protect extinguishes the desire to explore, to take a risk, or to chase after a dream?

There is a very short period of time when we experience ultimate freedom. We are old enough that our parents aren’t constantly following us around, but young enough that we have no fear. Kids play outside in the rain, ride their bikes off of poorly built ramps, and pick gum off of the sidewalk and chew it. My six year old nephew came from playing at the neighbor’s house and informed my sister that they had been playing on the roof of the garage but he didn’t think that she would like it so they decided to play on the roof of the shed instead. He didn’t think about a trip to the emergency room… his goal was the adventure.

Why do we stop embracing this freedom and start embracing fear?

I believe that out of love, we are programmed to fear. It is well-intentioned, but often misguided. We, as parents, come up with all sorts of rules. Some rules, of course, are necessary and prudent…look both ways before crossing the street, don’t play with guns, knives or explosives and don’t drink the Drano.

Sometimes though, we drift from reality and start repeating the things that we heard growing up or stick firmly to a concept that has no real consequence in life one way or another; clean your plate, don’t jump on the bed, get out of the mud or you’ll get dirty, not on a school night, don’t go outside with wet hair-- you’ll catch pneumonia, and don’t run with that or you’ll poke your eye out… in fact, just don’t run at all. Don’t sit so close to the TV, color in the lines, and if you cross your eyes they’ll stay like that.

Taking precautions is wise; it’s when we try to protect them against any threat of danger that we start going off the deep end and begin limiting normal childhood experiences. Children going out to ride bikes are better protected than a NASCAR driver and I was so neurotic that I made my poor children wear batting helmets to watch a semi-pro baseball game.

Why? Because we are under the very false assumption that we have some control and if we stick close enough or have enough rules… my child will be safe… living in a bubble, but safe. We are haunted by the "what ifs". What if they fall off of their bike, what if they freeeze to death because their coat is not thick enough, what if they eat the yellow snow?

When my girls were little, I did not want them to play on a trampoline… period. I didn’t really like them climbing on the monkey bars either—unless my protective hand was under their bottom… what if they should miss a bar and fall? So, I made the trampoline rule and the monkey bar rule. Unfortunately, I forgot about making the "don’t put the mini trampoline INSIDE of the monkey bar because a screw might be sticking out rule". As children do, Megan found a contingency that I hadn’t thought of. It resulted in four stitches to the top of her head.

Megan survived, but not because I protected her. Kids are resilient. My hope is that despite my past affliction with the "what ifs", Megan’s spirit of adventure has also survived. I hope that when my children have the chance to experience something new and exciting they will not hesitate because they see a path filled with rocks, jagged glass and uneven sidewalks.

I will have failed them if their response to life is a litany of "what ifs". What if I lose, what if I fail, what if my heart gets broken? There are so many things that I missed because of self imposed, irrational fears.

Carl Jung said that, “Nothing is a stronger influence psychologically on their environment, and especially on their children, than the unlived lives of the parents.”

I want to be an example for my children and not a barricade. You cannot control what happens tomorrow but you can decide to live for today.  We have a choice to kindle our child’s flame of adventure or extinguish it. Perhaps that means breaking one of our own rules now and then. Yes, dinner may be late, they may get dirty or stay up past their bedtime...they may even require stitches. The world will go on. Sometimes the best gift that you can give your child is to hold your breath, let go of their hand and allow them to run barefoot in a world full of stones. 
 

“Hi, mom.”

There it was…just a girl’s voice on a cell phone.

I was working in the yard and it resonated up the hill and into my ear.

It sounded as if she was yelling up at me.

She was excited to be at the beach and wanted to share it with her mother

her mother, the one who was listening at the other end of the phone.

My heart leapt.  How silly is that—three and a half years and my heart actually leapt.

That is how simple it is to conjure a ghost.

That is how simple it is to resurrect a buried tear.

It is a bit chilly along the Lake, but all signs are pointing to summer.  A daily procession of people head past our house to the beach; families loaded down with coolers and umbrellas, teenage girls whose IPOD earbuds are larger than their bikini tops and gangs of teenage boys never far behind them.

We began the year with a large and somewhat elaborate cocktail party.  I decorated the front yard with giant round green paper lanterns that dropped under a flowing awning of black tulle strung from the trees.  The house was filled with candles, food, wine, very interesting and entertaining friends and the sound of music and conversation.  It was the perfect start to summer and I hope to make it an annual event.

 The screamers from Chicago have finished their week at the cottage next door, they spend a great deal of time reasoning with their children and I must say the children respond with consistency—they let loose of high pitched screams until they get their way.

YOU SAID WE GET IIIIICCCCEEEEE CCCRRRREEEAAAMMMM!!!!!!!! !  But then, we all scream for Ice Cream.

The Hootenannies are back for Fourth of July Week with their guitars, beer and cigarettes; singing everything from the Eagles to Patsy Cline—the more they drink, the more they sing off key, so its best to catch them around 7:30.  There is something peaceful about it though and since Craig wasn’t home last night I let them sing me to sleep.  Maybe I am jealous for company or that I can’t carry a tune drunk or sober.

We were putting up a Flag Pole for the Fourth of July.  Turn of the century postcards show the house with a flag in front.  As we were doing so, a doe and two small fawns came walking up the middle of the street in the middle of the afternoon…it was an amazing sight.  It is a street busy with beach traffic and I was very fearful that someone would come around the turn and not see them.  When they saw us, the mom ran and the babies followed safely into the woods behind the house across the street.

On one of my walks a few weeks ago, I was in the woods and was started by a deer, I walked in the other direction but when I cam back by to go down the old stone staircase, I noticed two newborn fawns lying with her, they could barely walk and it was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen.

I saw someone walking a very ugly dog the other day and as I got closer I realized that it was actually a goat—on a leash.  I mistook a deer for a large dog once, but I had had three martinis.

I have already been to the beach three times this year—one more than the entire summer last year.  I have made a promise to myself to enjoy it.  No beach today however, as I am starting Chapter 12 of my novel.  It is fun to be the writer rather than the reader…because any outcome is possible.

Well, I guess we are caught up from my end of things.  Take care and God Bless.  I miss you all. Please take time to enjoy the summer and don't forget to scream for Ice Cream now and then.