Come sit in a rocker on the porch with me, and we'll discuss how children these days are wimps! (baby, sucking)
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I remember checking the slide on sunny days to make sure I could go down it without getting 2nd degree burns.Remember playing Squeeze the Lemon on the slide? I bet the kids are not allowed to do that now (one at a time on the slide please....). That game was so much fun.
Re the swings. There are swings near the field where my daughter had soccer practice and my boys would spend almost the entire practice on them seeing how high they could get and how far they could jump off. No one ever said anything to me but I was waiting for some parent either to tell me my kids were having a bad influence on their kids or to call the authorities on me.
Hey remember when swings had the hard seats that you could stand on like a trapeze and swing really high?
The sad thing is, I bet the parents you were waiting to come and talk to you or call the authorities on you went and called the local parks and rec. dept. or whomever is in charge of those swingsets and complained about their safety. I would venture a guess that those swings won't be around very much longer.
I remember the swings with the hard seats. Those were the easiest ones to jump from.
I'm not sure if I I played Squeeze the Lemon on the slide, we might have called it something different. I do remember sliding down the slide on the very edge with my legs and feet dangling over the side (kinda like sliding down side saddle) I also remember having to check the slides before sliding down. 105 degrees in the shade can make for some very hot sliding. But you know the plastic slides can get pretty hot too and the worst part is you don't slide down as fast on the plastic ones so you are on the hot surface longer than on the metal ones where you could zip down pretty fast. Now it's kinda like the difference between running across a bed of coals and walking across a bed of coals.
Well let's see... let me take a trip down memory lane. (I'm 54) As most kids back then who grew up in the country, my parents were the polar opposite of today's helicopter parents. After breakfast on weekends and during vacation, I was told to "scram" and don't return until supper. Lunch was up to me, as was my day's entertainment after the chores were finished.
Numerous falls from horses at full gallop. I rode modified Indian style, no saddle, pad or full bridle. Just a hackamore to transmit my commands. My flexible bones absorbed the shock.
A few good, solid horse kicks. One was delivered to my left shinbone at full extension from a huge mare while I was riding by on my horse. No paramedics back then, just my dad who left work and took me to the local GP. I still have the scar.
Being knocked out cold at the beach by my uncle, who was body surfing and ran his head into the back of mine. Once again, no paramedics, not even a call to the local volunteer fire-rescue squad. As soon as I came to, the day continued as before. Knowing what I know now, I'd take my kid to the ER if that happened.
Getting stung by a wasp (unbelievably painful, for those fortunate enough to not have experienced it) and being told by my WW2 combat veteran Dad to "shake it off, son". That's as far as the sympathy went, and I don't fault him for it.
Tincture of Iodine on scrapes and cuts. I would NEVER subject my kids to that, ever. It was legalized torture.
Rock and dirt clod fights from our fortified trenches. That was verboten by the parents, but we all did it anyway. We also had orange and lemon fights in the citrus groves, but those were tame except when one burst near enough to your eye.
12 years old and being paid by local ranchers to shoot ground squirrels. Two bits for every dead body I presented them. That was good money.
We used to play King of the Mountain at recess in winter (Maine). We would all get on top of the pile of snow at the end of the playground (thank you, Mr. Plowguy!) and of course, the object was to push everyone else off the top. I don't think that would happen now. But, damn, that was fun- especially when the girls won!
Well let's see... let me take a trip down memory lane. (I'm 54) As most kids back then who grew up in the country, my parents were the polar opposite of today's helicopter parents. After breakfast on weekends and during vacation, I was told to "scram" and don't return until supper. Lunch was up to me, as was my day's entertainment after the chores were finished.
Numerous falls from horses at full gallop. I rode modified Indian style, no saddle, pad or full bridle. Just a hackamore to transmit my commands. My flexible bones absorbed the shock.
A few good, solid horse kicks. One was delivered to my left shinbone at full extension from a huge mare while I was riding by on my horse. No paramedics back then, just my dad who left work and took me to the local GP. I still have the scar.
Being knocked out cold at the beach by my uncle, who was body surfing and ran his head into the back of mine. Once again, no paramedics, not even a call to the local volunteer fire-rescue squad. As soon as I came to, the day continued as before. Knowing what I know now, I'd take my kid to the ER if that happened.
Getting stung by a wasp (unbelievably painful, for those fortunate enough to not have experienced it) and being told by my WW2 combat veteran Dad to "shake it off, son". That's as far as the sympathy went, and I don't fault him for it.
Tincture of Iodine on scrapes and cuts. I would NEVER subject my kids to that, ever. It was legalized torture.
Rock and dirt clod fights from our fortified trenches. That was verboten by the parents, but we all did it anyway. We also had orange and lemon fights in the citrus groves, but those were tame except when one burst near enough to your eye.
12 years old and being paid by local ranchers to shoot ground squirrels. Two bits for every dead body I presented them. That was good money.
I could go on, but I'll give it a rest.
Know what you mean about the horses. We used to go out on ours, meet our friends down the road and go get lost in the woods . We could always count on the horses to get us home when they got hungry. Can't count how many creeks, ravines, etc. we explored. Sometimes up to 5-10 miles from home. BTW, we did get lost and a bit hungry a few times but we survived.
To raise money, we would catch small breem at the local fish camp on hand lines and trade them to the adults who needed them as bait for trot lines. This would usually keep us in soda and treats for the whole summer. Yes, we went to the lake alone and our parents did not see for a whole day though I do believe they had the fellow who owned the store at the marina keep an eye out for us just in case.
My current pet peeve is parents who think their child might die of dehydration or starvation without constant snack and water breaks. My daughter's ballet class is an hour long, they have two water breaks. My 3yr old's 45min soccer class has three and all the parents are anxiously waiting on the sidelines to ply their child with fruit snacks and juice. I'm all for drinking while exercising but really. And the constant snacking is silly too, your 8yr old does not need two mid-morning snacks and then one in the afternoon too. Somehow we survived (and were skinnier!) on just the occasional after school snack.
Wow, I totally agree with you on this one. My daughter played soccer for 10 years and one thing that always irritated me during that decade was the 'snack system' that parents adopted. Handing out well-earned water and orange slices at halftime was one thing, but on their assigned snack days parents were also expected to provide juice boxes and packaged snacks at the end of the game, too ... and that meant drinks and snacks for the entire team as well as showing further consideration by providing enough leftovers for any player's siblings who were present as well. It was really easy to spend $25 plus on supplies for your given snack day, and what pissed me off was seeing so many of them left behind on the field, or in the child's gear bag, the car, etc. It just seemed so extravagant and ultimately wasteful to me. We have a nation full of food insecure people and yet we stuff our kids silly with food and drink out of habit and not need. Sad.
I honestly don't understand our generation's obssession with hydration, either. How human beings managed to evolve in a world absent of bottled water and juice boxes is beyond me ... lol.
Are we going to have a thread about the adults these days being wimps, too?
Bring it, cupcake. I'm 47 years old and I regularly run 25-yr-olds into the ground. If it's an adrenalin sport, I've probably done it. If it's weird food, I've probably eaten it. If it's something fun and interesting, I'll try it.
Wow, I totally agree with you on this one. My daughter played soccer for 10 years and one thing that always irritated me during that decade was the 'snack system' that parents adopted. Handing out well-earned water and orange slices at halftime was one thing, but on their assigned snack days parents were also expected to provide juice boxes and packaged snacks at the end of the game, too ... and that meant drinks and snacks for the entire team as well as showing further consideration by providing enough leftovers for any player's siblings who were present as well. It was really easy to spend $25 plus on supplies for your given snack day, and what pissed me off was seeing so many of them left behind on the field, or in the child's gear bag, the car, etc. It just seemed so extravagant and ultimately wasteful to me. We have a nation full of food insecure people and yet we stuff our kids silly with food and drink out of habit and not need. Sad.
I honestly don't understand our generation's obssession with hydration, either. How human beings managed to evolve in a world absent of bottled water and juice boxes is beyond me ... lol.
I also agree about the snacks. My daughter's team has a fruit and water break, but my son's team often has salty, sugary, packaged snacks at half-time and after the game. It's very frustrating, because then he's not hungry for a healthy, balanced lunch.
The sad thing is, I bet the parents you were waiting to come and talk to you or call the authorities on you went and called the local parks and rec. dept. or whomever is in charge of those swingsets and complained about their safety. I would venture a guess that those swings won't be around very much longer.
Well they did have the requisite amount of pea gravel under them!
Reading my swing thing in the light of day made me realize some people are probably horrified that I would condone it so...
To those who are horrified I would turn a blind eye to my boys doing this - I know jumping off the swing at the high end of the arc can cause injury but I am trying to strike a balance between scaring them to death, making them afraid of getting hurt and going too far overboard. I did warn them to watch how they landed because they could sprain an ankle or break an arm. I figure if kids can fall off the bunk beds or even the couch at home and break a bone, the swings are fine with me - that is life. I let them play soccer and soccer can tear up your knees - I even watched someone break his ankle playing one day.
Well they did have the requisite amount of pea gravel under them!
Reading my swing thing in the light of day made me realize some people are probably horrified that I would condone it so...
To those who are horrified I would turn a blind eye to my boys doing this - I know jumping off the swing at the high end of the arc can cause injury but I am trying to strike a balance between scaring them to death, making them afraid of getting hurt and going too far overboard. I did warn them to watch how they landed because they could sprain an ankle or break an arm. I figure if kids can fall off the bunk beds or even the couch at home and break a bone, the swings are fine with me - that is life. I let them play soccer and soccer can tear up your knees - I even watched someone break his ankle playing one day.
I just needed to explain myself a little.
I remember jumping off those swings fondly. I also remember the electric sting that coursed up my legs from the shock of hitting the ground. Ouch!
At age 10, riding *miles* away from home on my bike, hanging out with the guys on motorbikes trying to keep up while they jumped up and down the sides of a creekbed.
Crawling through storm drains watching for black widows.
Crawdaddy fishin with a piece of bacon trying to avoid the cottonmouths.
Playing with fire.
Carving wood with a pocketknife.
Bows and arrows and pellet guns.
Camping outside while the coyotes prowled around my sleeping bag.
Taunting a billy goat and getting bucked down a 30 foot ravine.
And I was the undersized, coke-bottle-wearing, weakling nerd.
Hey did you live near me? I just didn't camp out so no coyotes prowling around my sleeping bag but definately coyotes prowling.
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