Isn't it Obvious?

            I have no recollection of a carseats, fenced in play areas, swimmies, or sunscreen. I specifically remember long road trips with my family and me being cuddled up in my mom’s lap, in the front seat listening to her heartbeat. I grew up on a farm and my only boundary was the road. I learned to swim by my mom’s arm under my belly and lots of practice in our above ground pool, and I remember having sunburns so bad that it was extremely painful to move the next day. I remember being 10 or 12 years old and breaking a horse to ride with little to no adult supervision and of course I’d never even heard of having to wear a helmet to ride a horse.  I remember my friends and I spending hours in our barn building hay forts with the stacks and stacks of square bales that my dad and brothers had baled. I remember riding my bike down the hill of our gravel driveway…and again, who needed helmets? And I have several fond memories of taking long car rides in the bed of a pickup truck.

            Now, the same people that were so lenient and seemingly oblivious to what I was doing 90% of the time have turned into grandparents. My mother, when dog-sitting for us won’t even let my dog off a chain or out of an enclosure for fear that he will run away into the same woods that I spent so many unsupervised hours. My children are made to wear life jackets or arm swimmies when in the pool, and the horse that they are allowed to ride is about….30 inches tall, he’s a mini…but they still have to wear helmets and be led around like a makeshift pony ride. My husband’s father, who is often called on to babysit for us is insanely fearful that Presley and Ben are going to choke on hotdogs or bread or ANYTHING else that is given to them. He stares at them while they eat and encourages them to drink water after every single bite of food, it’s actually pretty ridiculous.

            As I think about the irony of the complete transition that so many of our parents have made, I wonder when exactly it happened. I like to think that in my case, my parents are so thankful that my brothers and I survived our own treacherous childhoods, they can’t imagine subjecting their grandchildren to the “entertainment” that we found for ourselves as kids. On the other hand, I’ve noticed that there is always a tray of brownies for the grandkids, and dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets, gogurts, and kid sized sodas in the refrigerator for all of the grandkids. And when my dogs blast through her door with wagging tails, there’s always a biscuit waiting for them, they’re never scolded for being too hyper or jumping. So as the protection and awareness of imminent danger has risen, many of the rules and the strictness have dissipated. I rarely had brownies made for me when I was a youngster, and NEVER did my mother “waste” her money on dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets because “that’s not even real chicken!” Isn't it obvious? They love my kids and dogs more than they loved me!

My mom...cuddling with Mason, our family Puggle.