A Different Time
Thursday, March 11th, 2010
The rules of play were simple. Stay on my street. Come home in time for dinner. Don’t go in anyone’s house without Mom’s permission. It was easy. I played and had a wonderful time. I have the scars on my knees to prove it.
Simone and Nadia can’t do that. They don’t play in the yard or knock on a neighbor’s door and ask if the children inside can come out to play. It’s a different time.
The other night while driving home, I found myself all stressed out about what to do with the girls on the weekend. We have a series of activities we participate in as a family. Simone, though, has started asking to go to friend’s home or to have someone come over to our house. I feel more comfortable with someone coming to our house. Besides, whether it’s two girls or four girls or six girls, it’s all the same giggle fest to me. I understand the girls want to play with folks other than Mommy and Daddy, so I sent notes inviting two little girls to play at our house. We haven’t heard anything yet.
As I drove home, some of those anxious childhood feelings surfaced. Will the parents call? Will the parents feel comfortable coming to our home? Will the children have fun? I cannot turn back the clock to my childhood, a time when children played until dinnertime. I know I shouldn’t worry about these things. They always work out. All I can do is look over my shoulder at a time when parents didn’t have to do this, when we didn’t have to schedule play dates.






