Lines in the Sandbox

OK. Recently, T posted a blog about the incredible differences between life as we knew it growing up and life for children now. He talked about parents literally hovering over their kids in an already protected environment. I read it and, as a parent... well, really, as a Jewish Parent ( what's the difference between a Jewish mother and a Pit Bull? At some point the Pit Bull will let go...) I said "Things are different today. Times are complicated and dangers are everywhere. Not only do we transfer to our kids our fear of the dangers of the street but also of this ethereal world on the Internet."

In addition, these days, we are also judged not only by our kids (read: "Aw, c'mon Mom, Timmy's doing it...") but also by the many societal resources set up to protect them. When M bonked his head on his bedroom doorjam as a 2 year old and split his forehead wide open... we got calls for three months afterwards from the hospital making sure that the event was indeed an accident. M was 2 and not steady on his pins. He tripped and fell headlong into the only area of my house that I hadn't completely covered with foam rubber. Yet I felt ( hell, still feel) horribly guilty that I hadn't managed to protect him....

Well, T. I had proof positive that you are right on the money about this over protection thing (Though I still temper my beliefs with my Jewish-mother-over-protection instincts... He's my baaaaby!)

Each child at M's school got sent home with a notice telling us that wearing sandals in the summer is a playground safety hazard. Sandals.... Wearing sandals.

OK.

That's my line in the sandbox and the Principal just crossed it.

It's summer. It's hot. Please let my kid know the joy of the sand and the wind between his toes. It a small pleasure, really. He can't go outside all day long and just play. Not even in our own backyard. I have to be there. Or another trusted parent has to be there. He has to be regularly slathered with lotion, covered from head to toe in UV protective clothing and watched to ensure he plays safe. I'm good with that. I would worry otherwise. Even though my own parents would open the door and say 'See ya at dinner...' when I was a kid.( As I said, that was a different time....) I can't do that for M. It's too dangerous.

But sandals are part of summer, like ice cream, like beach towels.... Summer is about playing in the sandbox and squishing the sand between your fingers and toes. Then watching the sand slowly wash off in the paddling pool....

Aw, c'mon... Ms. Principal, Timmy is doing it....


(Photo courtesy of istockphoto)