The 80s Called

For the first time, there are kids in the neighborhood RR’s age. I’m delighted by this and more delighted that at least one of the families is relaxed enough to let their kid ride down to our house. Of course, this means that my child rides back with her to her house since our house is decidedly Not Fun.

And since my child rides back with her it means she’s alone out in the world on a street with no way to call home. Or, she’s having fun in the neighborhood, potato potahto. Between D and I, one of us is decidedly more anxious about the entire thing. Will she come back? What if something happens? What if she gets hurt? How will we find her if she’s missing?

Of course, some of these things are also true when she’s home alone when we go to the grocery store. There are equally dangerous things in the house but for some reason it feels like there’s less to worry about. We know the statistics about kidnapping. My sister was part of a failed stranger danger child snatching when she was six so I’m not really excited about those particular statistics.

RR does not have a phone (yet) but she’s equipped with a device to buzz when it’s time to come home. I just KNOW she will leave a phone behind unless we make her take a backpack with her everywhere. Maybe we’ll give her a fanny pack to go with it when we do cave. Teeny tiny fanny pack.

We’ve definitely gotten less worried the more she does it but does the nagging what if she doesn’t come back ever go away?

3 Responses

  1. My girl was 6 the first time I let her wander around the neighborhood without a grown up. She and her 7 year old friend went to the park and while I wanted to have a small heart attack and set up a spy tent, my better half and the other mother involved assured me they would be fine. After all, they had gone to that park every day of their lives. They knew other parents there. And if something happened, they’d high tail it home. Which they did.
    Then there was the day in which I thought my sweet girl and her friends were playing nicely in our back yard – only to get a call from a friend down the block, who just wanted me to know the girls had migrated to her back yard.
    It’s okay. There are more eyes out there than you realize. And part of you never stops worrying. That’s called parenting. xo

  2. When I first started letting Maya venture to her friend’s house on her bike, the other mom and I would text when the kids would arrive and depart.
    I ask a thousand questions before the girls get to go anywhere because I’m neurotic like that so I make sure I have a phone number of a parent.
    I am the lamest. Just ask my children.

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