Early in our marriage, Katie and I read the book "The Blessing of A Skinned Knee." Like many such books, it takes 300 pages to summarize the idea that letting your kids get hurt is okay. So now you don't have to read the book. You're welcome.
In practice, we have at times been caught up in the cultural moment of so-called helicopter parenting. How is it that at age 10, I rode my BMX bike for miles and miles all over town without telling my parents where I was going and without a cell phone. Imagine it!
Even as we have attempted to deliberately relax, or at least hover at a higher altitude, our chosen lifestyle is not conducive to free range parenting. One simply cannot let their children run around Cairo. And then, in very safe Frankfurt, we told the kids they could ride their bikes around the block without us and they were very confused, like when you try to imagine what is on the other side of the end of the universe.
Next, we're off to Manila, another high rise apartment building. I'm sure it will be great, but certainly no riding of BMX bikes all around town.
I used to play hide and seek in the summer time until forever p.m. with the entire neighborhood. And speaking of skinned knees, there was this one spot of the curb that new comers always, I mean always, tripped over the first time they played and were running for base. And they would skin their knee and they would cry. And parents wouldn't even come outside. Crazy, right? And then they would stop crying and we would keep playing. It was bonkers. Like we didn't even need grown ups.
Anyway, now I have to figure out how to let my kids skin their knees in Manila. How do I let them have the social equivalent of neighborhood hide and seek in a high rise apartment and the era of playdates? Online Minecraft?
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