Childhood

At age eight we moved to a large home on a mountain overlooking a lake. You should have seen me lugging rocks to build a retaining wall, using a miter to cut window moldings, or grabbing the automatic stapler with both hands to put up ceiling tiles in the basement.

When I talk about the Job Jar now it’s a good thing! Whether it was folding diapers, dusting, vacuuming or weeding we each had our things to do. The only thing is that it was never passed down to the younger ones, who got away with anything. But I digress.

Childhood is different these days. When a toddler waves at me from a supermarket cart I can’t say hello. Two tween girls wanted to come over here to play my keyboard last year, with an OK from Mom but Dad would get home from work and retrieve them post haste.

We didn’t have to lock our front door or our car. Yes, in high school several people I knew took drugs but I didn’t. I can’t imagine life as a twelve-year old girl today with Internet access and so many dangers. I wonder if parents are being too protective and creating monsters of their children who crave independence or will remain dependent forever.

Wouldn’t it be nice to go back to the time where we built sand structures or snow forts or sledded down the hill? While I’m past my child-bearing years my husband and I love children, especially our young relatives on which we dote. Some have the luxury of living a country existence and some don’t have that pleasure except on vacation.

We missed Thanksgiving at Nanny’s last year, first time in eight years. I missed the after-supper activities: pushing the little ones on the swings and looking at the horses. It’s a different world out there now, and parents should be extra-vigilant about their child’s safety but also let them learn and grow.

Yeah, I check all the locks every night. It was creepy when our garage door kept opening on its’ own, over the holidays. Husband Jim had to change the frequency to stop other garage door openers from opening ours and having full use of our home! Stay safe, Dee