They ride their bikes up and down the street.
They go to the neighbor’s house.
They make friends.
They come back to check in, and I am so thankful we live in a neighborhood that they can do that. (Please don’t go to my neighborhood and steal my children. Thank you.)
They go to the other neighbor’s house.
Yesterday they got in a water balloon fight. (“And mama, guess what? I got to use my water balloon rocket launcher!”)
They garden with an older lady in the neighborhood I have spoken to one time.
They play basketball with the neighbor’s kids. Both neighbors’ kids. And evidently they really like it.
They get dirty and on the weekends, I see their scraped elbows and skinned knees and hear all about how they fell down off their bikes at the same time when they were racing down the hill. “Oh and mama, daddy did not kiss it, he just sprayed it and sent us back out to play.” What the what?! No one was there to kiss boo boos and they turned out okay?
Now don’t get me wrong. The kids know about safety, that stranger danger doesn’t always come by way of strangers, and to stay together. Evidently, Daddy also laid down a few extra rules like “don’t go past that house”, and “come home if you’re bleeding or missing a limb.” And in our new town, before we get to know our neighborhood, there will be lots of hovering. Cause I’m a mom, and that’s just what we do. Here’s the thing. I’m kinda liking the idea of getting off this crazy train. Who knows, I may not sign the kids up for anything this summer. Or this fall. Or next spring. Take that, Google. You know what happens when you stop planning every minute of your kids’ lives?
Life.
That’s what happens.
Your kids WILL make friends, and they don’t need an extracurricular to do it. Click To Tweet They’ll get bored, and use their imaginations to come up with something cool. They might make friends with older people, or younger people, or any people. They will come home with scraped elbows. They’ll probably get dirty. They might get hurt. They might get their feelings hurt. Their princess fishing pole might not ever come back home. But those are the very best lessons in life.
We, in turn, might spend less time planning and more time doing right along with them. More time getting to know the people that live in our house, next door, two doors down, or down the street. Less time looking for the perfect sport that will ensure our kindergartener gets a free ride to college 12 years from now, and more time embracing the quirky yet amazing little humans we already have. They, and we, might just be better people if we all step back and relearn how to live life unplanned, unscheduled, and full of… well… life.
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