Home on the Free-Range

Spring has brought more than warmer weather and longer days:  the kids are playing further afield than our backyard.  They are spending more time shooting hoops (and making baskets!) at Neighbor Boy's house; they are heading a few houses around the corner to play with a friendly pack of other neighborhood boys (it's all boys; all the girls in the area are either much younger or much older.)  In fact, they're having so much fun that they put their backpacks down right off the bus and don't return until dinner two hours later.  We've gone over the rules--always ask if they want to leave our yard or move from one house to another; listen to the adults wherever they are; follow the Golden Rule when playing; come home when I call; follow our health and safety rules and don't do anything that gives them a funny feeling.  It's a little bit of freedom in a small range.  And I can always here or see them out my open doors and windows.

Still, it's rather bittersweet for me (and downright unsettling for Mama).  Sure, I want independent, social, confident children; I just didn't know I'd be so clearly left behind so soon.  It's almost as if winter break was this dividing line between old play-with-mom/in-the-backyard and new free-range-around-the-neighborhood-with-other-kids.   My first irrational thought was "wait!  I have all these books and articles about fun things we can do and make!" and I thought we weren't ever going to do any of them again.  Yes, overly dramatic and overreacting.   And, yes, Lambeth, empty nest.  I haven't really been worried about safety . . . .

But I put my foot down today when Sis asked if they could go to a kid's house whose name they didn't know.  The boy was outside and I didn't recognize him at all, though Neighbor Boy swore he knew him.  He was older and lived up and around the corner, said he played with the pack of boys all the time.  I told Sis and Bud no, they couldn't go to his house along with Neighbor Boy because I had dinner on the stove and couldn't walk with them to see where he lived and meet his adults and get a phone number.  Their faces fell, but I was adamant.  The boy understood and said they'd come play on our end of the block; Neighbor Boy kept urging me to change my mind (he does that a lot these days, after putting Sis or Bud up to asking me for things that he wants, like playing inside!).  Everyone went back to playing ball.  And I promptly went to order a copy of Lenore "I Let My 9-Year-Old Ride the NYC Subway Alone" Skenazy's Free-Range Kids: How to Raise Safe, Self-Reliant Kids (Without Going Nuts with Worry).

I know I made the right call--I can't send them somewhere I don't know with someone I don't know.  But I was honest when I said I would walk over sometime and see where he lived and meet his adults.  Right after I check with the other neighbors!  Sis and Bud admitted at dinner that they had never seen him before and seemed confused but not bothered by my refusal to let them go.  I explained health and safety.  And realized this was only one of the first of many times I'll vet their friends and say "no" to plans . . . at least until they stop asking or listening.

Can't we go back to fairy houses and sidewalk chalk alone together?