I was a very neglected independent child. My sister walked me to school on my first day, after that I prepared my own lunch and walked on my own, sometimes hooking up with neighbourhood kids on the way.
We all had chores to do round the house and it never occurred to us to involve our parents in our school lives. School was school and home was home.
We made up games, played outside a lot and made many forbidden trips to the shops for sweets.
As it happens, I turned out pretty capable, and walked into a dream job as soon as I graduated.
When I first had children, I was anxious to give them a better childhood, one in which they felt cherished within the family. For reasons even I don't understand, I pampered them. And now that they are both school age, I have new respect for the way I was raised.
My eldest child will occasionally be helpful around the house and volunteer to walk to school. She moves between two homes so is adept at packing but really she is a baby compared with the 10yo that I was. And I think this is largely the result of my good intentions backfiring.
I seem to be doing better with the second one; he makes his bed, puts his washing in the right spot, brings in his lunchbox and lets me know what he needs for school.
I am proud of their table manners and I do notice that many of their friends seem unable to sit at the table, that they hop and down constantly and fuss about food.
But I have been soul searching somewhat to try to help them gain more self help skills and independence.
I think these days that parenting is much discussed in a way it wasn't in the past, and that we have bred ourselves a new anxiety disorder, parenting failure. Whereas when I was small, parents were pretty damn sure they were right about everything and didn't fret or pamper in the way so many of us do now.