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Okay here is my remember when, I remember standing up beside my Dad in the car while he drove with my hand on his shoulder, sitting on my Mom's lap in the front seat, scrapping off the top of my toe because not only was I riding my bike with no helmet but I also had no shoes on.
I also remember those yummy tasting baby aspirins we used to take when we had a fever that now cause Reye's syndrome.
I hate to admit it I can be one of those mom's who gets hyper now. Of course I have 4 boys and we have seen the inside of the ER more times than I wanted to.
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.
Oh that stuff was bad, and my kids whimper over peroxide.
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...
I just needed to explain myself a little.
Ah, just tell them it's a "how far" contest, not a "how high" contest, and explain how if they jump out just when they are starting their ascent rather than at the peak, they'll get a longer flight.
Okay here is my remember when, I remember standing up beside my Dad in the car while he drove with my hand on his shoulder,.
Yep, I remember those times too. Drove my first car when I was five -- a 1964 Vette in a parking lot. Remember it fondly! Also remember riding with no seatbelts, and leaning out the windows. Or my dad pulling me on my bike holding onto a rope on the car bumper, going down a horribly bumpy dirt road.
What about riding in the back of a pickup truck? That was great fun as a kid. Grandpa letting me sit on his lap and drive the car down the road. Mom sending me and my sister to to the store to buy smokes for her, she gave us a note in case the clerk gave us a hard time (I think I was about 8 and my sister was 10!), we didn't get a hard time. And the store was about 10-12 blocks away.
^LOL...I used to have to buy my dad smokes all the time.
And I agree with the previous post about how kids are weenies with having to have water breaks after hardly being winded. I was a soccer coach one season for the local YMCA. What a bunch of pansies kids are these days. I had one or two kids out of 14 who could actually take a hit and not complain about it. The rest of them would get a bump on the leg and be sitting on the bench crying the rest of the game. My daughter came crying to me in practice because somebody kicked her in the shin. I looked at her and told her that's what the shin guards are for and to stop sniveling and get back in there...<got chewed out later when I got home though>
Yep, I remember those times too. Drove my first car when I was five -- a 1964 Vette in a parking lot. Remember it fondly! Also remember riding with no seatbelts, and leaning out the windows. Or my dad pulling me on my bike holding onto a rope on the car bumper, going down a horribly bumpy dirt road.
This brings back memories of me learning to drive at 13 in my Dad's old truck, stick shift of course in a field with bumps, I would get to going really good and then hit the bump and the truck would die. I also remember laying in the back window of the car waving at those behind us. We used to drive to see my grandparents and we just had a shell we threw on the back of the truck and my brothers and I always slept back there none the wiser that there could be carbon monoxide.
Oh and lets not forgetting climbing the mulberry trees, picking the fruit and eating it and never once worrying about pesticides or even worms. Then having purple feet and hands for a couple of days because of course we were climbing the trees barefooted.
Sitting out on my grandpa's back porch while he smoke, sucking in all the smoke and never knowing about second hand smoke. Funny how the smell of a certain kind of cigarette will bring back memories of that.
My dad taught me how to drive when i was 13, and had an old Toronado the size of Rhode Island. When I turned 14 he started letting me drive it to my best friend's house, who lived on the street just behind ours. His rationale was that it was way too big and cumbersome to get into any trouble in. I honestly shake my head when I think back to him allowing me to do that. Thank God I never ran into another car or even worse, a human being. That's one memory that I kept as a memory, and not advice for future parenting.
My dad taught me how to drive when i was 13, and had an old Toronado the size of Rhode Island. When I turned 14 he started letting me drive it to my best friend's house, who lived on the street just behind ours. His rationale was that it was way too big and cumbersome to get into any trouble in. I honestly shake my head when I think back to him allowing me to do that. Thank God I never ran into another car or even worse, a human being. That's one memory that I kept as a memory, and not advice for future parenting.
there are alot of things my parents let me do that I just wonder what in the world were they thinking.
I have another I remember when. I used to live in an apt. complex when I was between the ages of 8-10 and me and a good chunk of the other kids in the complex would get together and have a big old camp out on the side lawn of our complex. We used to shimmy up the light pole (one of those big street lights) after all the folks were asleep to see who could get the highest. One kid actually got to the very top and sat on top of the light fixture. The light pole was at least a good three stories high.
There was also a creek in front of our apt. complex and we (about half of the kids in the complex)would go down and swim in it all of the time without adult supervision. We would look for under currents in the deeper parts of the creek and let the current pull us under and ride down underwater as far as it would take us. Sometimes we would end up a couple of football feild lengths away from where we started before we popped back up.
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(I think I was about 8 and my sister was 10!), we didn't get a hard time
. And the store was about 10-12 blocks away
.
