Thursday, May 28, 2015

Warning: May Cause Disease

In this day and age, my parenting peers are discussing the effects of screen time on their children, how to manage it, how to work around it when parents aren't home, what time restrictions to place on it, etc. etc. etc. I always assume that people think I am exaggerating when I tell them that we really don't have any rules or regulations about screen time. (Duh-of course we do about appropriate sites, etc.) But time limits? Not at all necessary. We have the absolute opposite at our house. We have to set limits and regulations on their imaginations. 

While I ran a billion after-school errands with Megan for her upcoming Carnival Fundraiser this Saturday, I returned home to this:

"We're making home-made rafts." ~ said one child

"Did Dad give permission for the wood to be used?" ~said the parent

"It's old wood." ~said another child

"What exactly do you need rafts for?~ said the parent

"To play in water." ~ said a child

"What water?" ~ said the parent

"Water in the pasture. And when that dries up, we'll take them somewhere else to use." ~said the same child

"What is going on?" ~ said the other parent who arrived home minutes after the first parent

"Did you ask permission for the wood?" ~ said the other parent






A short time later, we could hear laughter and happy squealing all the way across the field to our pasture. Megan, being the first to ascertain where the laughter was originating from suddenly declared, "They look like neglected children."

To which my eyes wander to where she is looking and I behold this sight.
Neglected children?
Not really, they actually get a lot of attention.

Imaginative children?
Yes.
(See the broken wheel on the red wagon? That would be from it being used to descend the hill and ride into the water.)

I walked over to get a closer look, and though all my responsible, clean, uptight personality traits wanted to yell and tell them to get their clothes on and get OUT OF THE MUDDY WATER immediately, the part of my personality that understands they are only young once, and the soft, motherly part of my personality that heard, "Mom! Are you mad at us? This is the best day EVER." simply took some photos, and told them to come home in 10 minutes.
I didn't get any "after photos" of the mud strewn across their faces and bodies, or of them standing in their underwear in the back yard while I hosed them down with a hose. To which they complained about the temperature of the cold water. To which I responded, if you can play in mud puddles, you pay the price of a cold hose squirted at you before you're allowed into the house to shower.

Megan is concerned they are going to catch cholera. My BFF is concerned they are going to get ticks. My only concern is what will they think of next!






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