I grew up on a working class estate, in a northern mill town. I am almost 34 and I had the best time with my friends growing up. I am comparing my child DS8, to my child hood and I am feeling a bit sad. Because;
- From aged 8 I could ride wherever on my bike all over town
- we had the most imaginative play, we kept up for the whole six weeks holidays that the mills behind us was haunted, I convinced a peer to trap a bee in a jar to save my life - we all knew it wasn’t true but played along as it was all part of the story, and ate a mud pie after sacrificing the bee…
- I was allowed out to play from when my parents left for work until tea, and then from there until it got dark
- we had secret woods, haunted woods, various (unsafe) rope swings and biking routes
In comparison DS8 gets to go on “play dates” and prearranged activities..
AIBU to grieve for the good times being a child and wonder why we are so closed off with our children