How to Raise Kids

Well, if you think I have the answer here, you can stop reading now. Because I don't and I probably will never get it right. But I'm noticing something here that I like and it reminds me of my own childhood.

I grew up in Montana, where we had 30 acres and a couple horses. We lived about 5 miles out of a town that really had nothing in it but the swimming pool and a burger joint. It was 130 miles to the nearest mall. There was a JC Penneys in the "big" town 20 miles away--but that's just where we picked up the clothes we ordered through the catalog. I spent most of my youth doing things that would horrify most of you--and had a ball doing it. I used to dream of being a rodeo stunt rider, and movie stunt double, a polo player, or an Olympic equestrian. Each of these scenarios involved standing on, jumping on, jumping off, or jumping over the horses. When that grew old, there was always a good game of cowboys and Indians--with real BB guns (the Indians were always at a definite disadvantage, since we had to make our own weapons and had no skills). We snuck through the neighbor's pasture with hamburger in bags to catch turtles (and avoid being caught and shot at with rock salt). We set things on fire. We swam our horses in the river. We climbed too high in the trees. We swung from a rope swing suspended between two (close) trees and jumped from a tree house over 30 feet high. We jumped off the barn roof. We never went to the emergency room. We ate wild onions, chokecherries, strawberries. We even attempted smoking in the pig sty (sad but true).

My children have grown up in a city with many of the wonderful opportunities that are available there. They've seen plays and operas. They've taken art and music and science classes. They've watched professional sports games and stock car races (OK, I did that, too). They have had opportunities that they take for granted because it was all they knew. Just like I did.

But they can't explore anywhere. I have to take them to the park. And watch them. And monitor and comment and interact with them. Because if I don't, "something" might happen. Or another parent will step in. They can't ride their bikes in the street without an adult spotting for cars. They're considered weirdly cool (or at least mildly interesting) because their mother once let them throw their jack-o-lanterns off the deck. I can't really let them out of my sight because of "something". That's not me talking--it's the voices I hear and the pressure I feel from the culture around me. It's not the voices I want to listen to--I want them to have the free childhood I had, even if they live in the suburbs. Less structure, less planning, less focus on getting them ready for some undefinable moment in their future so they can be successful.

Right now we are still waiting for our shipping container. The boys have a few books from the school library and a small box of legos. Ava has some toy horses and beanie babies. That's it. They're looking forward to the shipping container like the Second Coming, but they've forgotten that it truly contains a limited supply of toys (our legos and some action figures mostly, plus Ava's dolls and dressup clothes). But they are forced to make their own fun and they're doing great. Away from anything familiar they are starting to rely on themselves, rather than others or activities to be content.

And I've noticed the other (mostly European) parents. Maybe it's a Euro. thing, or maybe it's a quality of people who are willing to move to a place like Africa, but they all seem to fret less about their children. They spend much less time hovering, worrying, monitoring, etc. than my friends and I did at home. Their children enjoy the type of unstructured, exploring, away-from-mom's-prying-eyes childhood that so many of us remember. They aren't insensitive, they don't ignore their children--they just seem to accept in their children a natural independence and sense that they'll be fine with whatever they're doing at the moment. Many of them are involved in activities through school and on their own that are structured, but it seems to be for the pleasure of it, not because "everyone else" does it, or because they need to start young to build skills, or because it would look good on a college application. It seems that the children lead and the adults follow. At home, it seemed like parents (myself included) lead, organized, or arranged, and children were brought along.

We love(d) Minnesota--both Mark and I feel that we were Minnesotans that were misplaced at birth. We lived there for 18 years and our lives were blessed by our church, our neighbors, and our friends. We have always felt that it was one of the best places in the country to raise our kids. But we've always wanted something different for our kids than what we had--not necessarily a different place, but a different cultural view about children and childhood. I felt that more strongly when I started homeschooling Cameron and met families that really had a strong vision of what they wanted for their children and had built their lives around those values. My friend, Lindsay, is one in particular--she and her hubby live in Eden Prairie with 4 absolutely wonderful kids who have been able to bypass the kinds of things I've mentioned.

I knew I would have a lot of eye-opening experiences, but this is one I hadn't expected. I've been thinking of how much I appreciated my own childhood, and so many things I didn't like about the pace or reasons why I was doing some of what we were doing with our kids. I'm realizing that I wanted for them what I had, but didn't think was possible in the 'burbs--and that I wasn't even conscious of before. So much of Tanzania reminds me of my Montana childhood--perhaps they can experience that freedom and simplicity I had 30 years ago.

Please, feel free to weigh in with your own childhood memories, thoughts on your kids, whatever...I'll even let you disagree with me! :-)