I came across this great article today on playtime, and how it has changed since I was a child. The gist of the article is pretty much how the media has made parents afraid for their kids to be out on their own, and it has contributed to the rise of organized sports helicopter parents. The author then goes on to talk about how we can change play to the way it used to be. I got to thinking after I read this, and I have noticed the difference over the past 15 years or so, and I make it a priority to allow Little Man to play on his own.

Growing up, I would tell my mother “I’m going to Shelly’s!” and then hop on my bike and ride the mile or so to her house…I was only 6 years old. When I got to my friend’s house, I would call home to let them know I got there safely, but that was it. We would play at her house, or ride over to another friend’s and then hit up the park or just ride around town. We would pop back into someone’s house for lunch and a quick drink of water, and then we would be back out. The only curfew I had was to be home when the lights turned on. My parents didn’t know what I was up to; we would fill everyone in on our days around the dinner table each night. When I got older, and we moved to a neighbourhood that didn’t have girls, I would pal around with my brother and his friends. We made a fort at the base of an old tree near the church, and would be there for hours, playing cops and robbers, or GI Joe. At night, it was flashlight tag and ghost in the graveyard up in the court; running (or army crawling) through backyards, trying to avoid getting caught in the glow of the flashlight.

My brother played soccer, and then roller and ice hockey; I was into softball. We both did Irish dance, and that was it. We were not over involved; our days were not scheduled and booked from the time we woke up until we went to bed. We had down time, and barely any time in front of the tv.

What I have seen, starting with my youngest brother, is the rise of playtime being set aside for sports and screens thrown in faces to keep kids quiet. Everything is scripted; there is no time for kids to just explore and use their imaginations. Parents are overly involved and are right at their kids’ sides all the time when they are supposed to be playing.

Now, Little Man is still a babe; he isn’t the most steady when it comes to stairs, especially going down, so he knows to reach for my hand to give him some support when walking down the stairs (no, he does not crawl down, feet first, he has only ever walked down the stairs). I let him run around outside; he will go to the edge of the property and look back, then try to climb through the bushes before coming back to me. When we go to storytime at the library, he runs around, climbs up the stairs on one side of the stage, and I meet him at the other to help him walk down. I do follow from one side to the other, because he would pull a Thelma and Louise and just cruise right off the edge of the stage, and I don’t want to have to deal with that, not at the library.

Little Man has gotten bumps and bruises, and he will get more of them as he grows up. I do not want him to live in a bubble, and other parents should feel the same about their children. The world is not a safe place, and people get hurt (physically and emotionally). Childhood is the time to test boundaries, explore on their own, and use those imaginations to the fullest extent possible. As hard as it may be, let your children go off and do their own thing, and for Pete’s sake, stop with all of the darn sport and organized activities. Pick one activity, and just go with it. Give yourself a break and not only will you thank yourself, but your kids will do.