Even Free Range Chickens Have Boundaries

- By Schnockered Mom Natalie

Becca recently discovered an intriguing blog http://freerangekids.wordpress.com/. The author, Lenore Skenazy, holds a child rearing philosophy that I aspire to – to a degree.

Ms. Skenazy asks the questions: have you ever let your kid ride a bike to the library? Walk alone to school? Take a bus, solo? If you’ve had these thoughts or even wondered why kids don’t do this anymore, it’s possible you too are raising a Free Range Kid or you yourself are a “Free Ranger” (my term, not hers). Free Rangers believe their kids deserve to grow up free range just like they did - “we did this when we were growing up and lived to tell about it” seems to be their mantra.

When first reading this introduction, I remembered how growing up I also often rode loose in the back-end of a station wagon, never wore a helmet while riding a bike and was brought home from the hospital held in my mother’s arms in the front seat of a Dodge Charger. Yes I survived, but I’m not sure “we did it and look how we turned out” is the most logical rationale for continuing a particular child rearing philosophy. Free Rangers do clarify, however, that they also believe in children wearing helmets, using car seats and safety belts. They condone safety measures that make sense. But they don’t feel a school age child needs a security detail simply to go outside.

I should say before carrying on that my child is not technically school age. Kate will turn 3 this Thursday. Riding a city bus alone doesn’t actually apply to her even in the minds of the most radical of Free Rangers.

Ms. Skenazy mentions cites several examples of how parenting today has gone overboard. For example, all the baby superstores and parenting magazines inundate us with so many products and so much advice that we feel an incredible sense of pressure as parents to always DO THE RIGHT THING. Every waking and non-waking moment. How can we ever can feel completely satisfied that we are doing a good job? This reminds me of how the whole Schnockered Mom movement got started. Over two years ago I asked my fellow wenches, each of whom was a more experienced mother than myself, whether they regularly read parenting magazines. I wondered whether as a new mother I should be doing more research in mothering. The answer was a resounding “no” that it would only make me feel more inept as a parent and provide added guilt for not buying more, doing more, providing more than I already do. I threw out the Parent magazine mailer the same day.

The point Ms. Skenazy makes regarding overbooking our kids’ childhood with activities, college prep courses, and sports lessons hasn’t really been an issue yet and isn’t something I obsess over. Again, this could be due to Kate’s age. But it’s also because I know through my own interests and adventures I have exposed her in a fun way to a variety of the things one can do in life. We have a piano, guitar and harmonica in our living room. She is welcome to experiment any time she feels like it. We sing songs and listen to music for pleasure. We have dance recitals in her bedroom and impromptu disco night in the middle of the kitchen floor. We attend special events around the city like watching Persian dancers perform while tasting their food in Balboa park. We play soccer in the yard and attend rugby matches to watch daddy run around and bash into other men. We play around with the basketball and pretend we’re actually getting it through the hoop. We butcher the languages of Spanish and German and French just for fun. We look at picture books, study maps, recite colors, the alphabet and shapes. We read and think and talk. It’s part of our daily lives and we don’t need to schedule it.

My husband and I provide an enriching environment for Kate in a fun and easy way. And we recognize the need for down time and vegging out in front of cartoons. There are days after school when she tells me she doesn’t want to talk. So we don’t. There are mornings when she’s grumpy and not so keen on going to school or playing I Spy in the car. So, we turn the music up and don’t say a word. She’s a normal person with moods and needs. Sometimes it involves not thinking, not doing and not interacting. And I’m perfectly okay with this.

Where I falter in my aspirations to be a Free Ranger is with the safety issues of unsupervised play. Since Kate has been in this world we have lived on large, busy streets where cars race from here to there at high speeds. This has made me slightly neurotic about her getting hit by cars. Even cars pulling out of the alley at normal speeds make taking a nice stroll around the block somewhat stressful. I don’t think I’ll ever stop feeling hyper-vigilant about cars and busy streets.

Regarding the creepy stranger issues. Again, I have a problem quelling my underlying fears that some stranger will abduct or harm Kate. There are regular occurrences of random crazies roaming around our neighborhood (our new one not so much as our old one, mind you). One sketchy character in our new neighborhood lecherously smiled and whistled at Kate playing naked in the sprinkler this weekend. It could be that he (as anyone else would do) was just laughing at her funny pot-belly sticking out there in all it's glory. But his weather-beaten, homeless look gave it a much more sinister feel. These things make it hard to feel comfortable leaving Kate to play unsupervised in our front yard. So I don’t.

I suffer from the "what ifs" and am trying really hard to suppress these fears. I don't worry about her catching swine flu or meningitis or deadly diseases if she eats without washing her hands or shares a kid's sippy cup at the park. I don’t obsess about potentially chemicals in the water bottles she sips from. I don’t fret about where her peanut butter came from. Traumatic injuries are what keep me awake at night.

The reality is when I was growing up we had boundaries. We weren’t given a carte blanche to roam wherever we pleased. We were warned of the busy streets and for the most part stayed within the boundaries set by our parents. I still remember them to this day – avoid 46th St, Norton Ave., and Chouteau Dr. and don’t even think about making a trip to the K-Mart. We stayed on the quiet streets of our own neighborhood playing with our mates from school.

Maybe that’s one difference between then and now. Now, there aren’t very many quiet streets where we live. Now, kids don’t necessarily know the neighbor kids from school because they’re all being sent to charters or magnets or private schools. It’s a different time and a different place. Another reason why abiding by the “I did it that way when I was a kid and look how I turned out” mantra doesn’t always make the most sense.