Memories from a Once Wild Child

I'm currently reading How to Raise a Wild Child by Scott Sampson (of Dinosaur Train fame, if you've watched the show). I'm hoping to review it on here when I'm done, so I won't say much, but I wanted to write something now, because reading this book has prompted me to think about some things. At the moment, I'm in a chapter discussing middle childhood (from about 6 to 11) and how important nature experiences are at this particular set of ages. It makes sense - most of my profound childhood nature experiences happened during this time of my life, usually with groups of roving neighborhood kids when I lived in Massachusetts.

I wanted to put down some of these memories. They're all, for the most part, quite strong, but I love thinking about them and putting them down. I'm very much the kind of person who likes to go over old, happy memories like someone might a photo album (love those, too), or look fondly over a collection of things.

My grandparents' "yard":
I spent all of my early childhood and most of my middle childhood in a town called Groveland, Massachusetts. I don't know what it's like to be a child growing up there now, but my memories are fairly close to idyllic. It was reasonably rural, at least by suburban Massachusetts standards, what with farms and open land and a fair amount of woods (much of this is developed now). My dad's parents lived probably three or so miles from my house, so we spent a lot of time there. Both of my grandparents grew up on farms and keeping one was just natural to them.

Years and years before, my grandfather had run a chicken farm at the end of their road, providing eggs for the local grocery stores. By the time I came along he had given up chicken farming and kept beef cattle. Big, beautiful brown and white cows idled away in his fields, wandering down to the cow pond where I would one day (unsuccessfully) attempt ice skating. Their huge brown eyes and docile ways had me in love about as soon as I knew them.

My grandmother had little to do with the upkeep of the animals; that was all on my grandfather, and me, his helper, of course (I loved giving the cows "dessert" - oats in big rubber bowls). She, instead, tended massive, meticulous, and beautiful flower gardens. She could grow anything and took great pleasure in it. I could spend hours wandering from section to section of their massive yard, taking in the wide variety of color and shape. In the way, way back of their yard, up beyond a line of shady pine trees, there was a large veggie garden where I would freely harvest snacks during the summer.

I often think of my grandparents' yard (well, small farm, really) as my first connection to nature. Even though they moved from that house and all that land in 2000, I can picture that place in my mind almost more clearly than my own home's yard. Time with my grandparents, when I was small, meant time outside, getting dirty and also with the expectation that I would entertain myself, and there was no shortage of entertainment.

When my grandfather became wheelchair bound in the late nineties and the cows were sold off, the land and house soon to follow, I started taking time to wander up into the cow pasture, a place I had never been previously allowed to go. I was in awe of just how much land there was. I felt a huge pain in my heart that this place wouldn't be my family's any more and that it would likely be developed by whomever purchased it, paved over and built up as so much of the land in that area is now. I remember taking the time, even at only 11 or so, to relish the silence and the feeling of the land around me. 

The Broderick's Yard: 

The Broderick's were the family next door, and are honestly the best family. The three kids in that family were some of my favorite playmates growing up, particularly Kate, who's adventurous and competitive spirit pulled me out of my naturally stagnant shell. If I hadn't had the Broderick kids (and later, the Beatons, another group of adorable and active kids) as neighbors, I probably would have spent a majority of my childhood reading books and playing Sonic.

My strongest outdoor memories from my Massachusetts neighborhood occur in the Broderick's yard. They had a huge yard with all the typical childhood amenities, along with a killer sledding hill in the winter, and a mom who would make tuna melts accompanied by Cape Cod potato chips and juice mixed with seltzer water (of course I remember the food!).

There really weren't any limits to where we could go, and as we got older, we would wander farther and farther afield. I remember one particularly warm winter day when a group of us found ourselves in the woods. Rather than snow, there was ice, because that area tended to get really wet, so I suppose there must have been some melting earlier in the season, then things got cold again and froze over. But with the warmth of that particular day, we found ourselves hoping from sheet of thick ice to sheet of thick ice, hanging on to trees and their little patches of dry ground, playing some sort of game, the exact parameters of which I'm not sure of, having the times of our lives. I don't think those particular circumstances cropped up again, at least not while I lived there, and it was, for me, a once in a lifetime event that now seems so simple, but felt amazing at the time.

Maudslay State Park

My last memories from Massachusetts come from an unlikely place, at least in terms of the great outdoors. Newburyport is a large-ish town on the North Shore, sort of akin to the Old Port in Portland (for my Maine friends - Massachusetts friends are free to decry this comparison). In Newburyport there is Maudslay State Park. I haven't been there in years, like, probably close to twenty years, at this point, so my memories of the park itself are extremely foggy, but I include in these rememberances for a reason - it still gives me such a strong feeling when I think about it. I only have fleeting images in my mind of this place, but the sense of loveliness and stillness and mystery sit solidly over me. It's an interesting to me, that a place where I don't have a real distinct memory of could still leave me with such a strong impression. I love how natural places can do that to you.


I know a lot of folks like to think of Millenials as the first generation shut up in the house, transfixed to their computers and TVs, but I would argue that my friends growing up, both in Massachusetts and in Maine, spent a majority of our time playing outside. We were frequently kicked out by our parents and would run from yard to yard, following some kind of adventure or figuring out which place would be best suited for whatever sport we were going to play. Even as a teenager, here in Maine, I can think of many times I spent with friends outside rather than in, never with our noses buried in something else.

This is the kind of childhood I hope for my kids, one where their best childhood memories take place outside, with a friend or group of friends, lost in their play.

T.V. Free...Life

It's been quiet around here lately. Not silent, not even very peaceful, really (How can peacefulness even be achieved with a rapidly moving one year old and adventurous five year old? If you have a secret, please pass it along.). But it's been quiet, nonetheless, and I think it's largely owed the absence of a screen. It's not as though we've gotten rid of our television, computer, or handheld devices - we simply haven't had them on much, particularly with the kids.

We love watching T.V. here. My husband and I have lots and lots of shows we love to watch. My husband is the type to start watching a two and half hour movie in the middle of the afternoon, simply because there isn't anything else he wants to do. There have been times where I felt like E. was getting way more than her fair share of television time, too, and had shows she just absolutely had to watch over and over (we have Netflix, so at least we've been able to avoid haven't specific times where she feels she MUST have the T.V. on). I never imagined that we would become a home where the T.V. is on as little as it is.

Here's how it usually happens: We all get up, have breakfast, clean up, play, go to school, if it's one of those days, play some more, get chores done, go outside, run an errand maybe, (lunch and snacks are thrown in here somewhere), prepare dinner, have dinner (we've been doing this by candlelight a lot lately, which just seems to keep everyone calm and pleasant during the meal). Somewhere around dinner time, either just before or just after, we watch about a half an hour of T.V. Some days we don't watch any at all. And E. is not asking for it, either.

This is a huge contrast to even just a few months ago (we've been slowly building towards this), when E. could easily watch two hours of television, if not more, in a day. And I realize that two hours is considered "okay", but I just couldn't fathom how E. sitting for those two hours, even if she wasn't doing it consecutively, even if she was getting lots of active time beyond, was healthy or "okay."

Why we started: After reading a lot on the effects of television on children's brain growth and the impact it has on their imaginary play and just being overall frustrated with her education, I decided it was time to limit T.V. as much as we possibly could so E. could have as much time to play, explore imaginatively, and discover of what she is capable, as possible.

And with a little one in the home and with T.V. not being recommended for children under two years, I knew I wanted to limit T.V. for his sake, too. This was also a habit I wanted entrenched by the time M. was of T.V. viewing age, because, and this is honestly just my opinion, backed up by nothing buy anecdotal evidence, I feel that boys are far more susceptible to media addiction. The men and boys in my family seem to have a real difficulty in pulling themselves away from the T.V. and their "devices", and I don't want that for M. If little T.V. is a habit in our household now, I think it will continue to be as he gets older.

How we started: I began by saying we would only have T.V. three times a day, around breakfast, around lunch, and around dinner. If E. asked for more, I had to stay pretty steadfast and say no. At first, it really wasn't easy, and there were plenty of times where I just wished I could give in and let her have it, but I didn't, and I'm really proud of that.

After a bit, I started saying no to T.V. in the morning during the school week. My excuse was, and this is partially true, was that it was preventing us from getting out the door on time. E. would have a really hard time stopping the show to go get ready. Eventually we started getting rid of T.V. in the mornings on the weekends, too.

Honestly, after we got rid of morning T.V., the rest came pretty easily. By setting the tone for the day with playing and working together, E. sort of forgot that there was T.V. to watch. Occasionally, she would ask to watch T.V. or a movie, and I could more easily make a judgement call about whether or not it was a good time, depending on how much screen time she'd had previously. Now that we watch T.V. so rarely, when E. asks to watch T.V. or a movie, I don't feel guilty and will happily put something on for her.

Unexpected Benefits: There are a couple of things that have cropped up since we started limiting T.V. One, I've started being able to watch T.V. with E. I've tried planning T.V. time, when we have it, for moments where I'm either in the room with her, prepping dinner or cleaning, or I can actually sit down and watch. It's nice to actually be able to enjoy what's being watched rather than using the T.V. as a babysitter.

Two, my husband, the lover of all things screen, big and small, has given up T.V. for Lent. Seriously. I think he realized if he wanted to watch T.V. while the kids are up, he was going to be banished to the basement. I wonder if perhaps he got a bit lonely down there all by himself while the rest of us are having fun above ground.

At this point we're in maintenance mode and fine-tuning here and there. I'm trying to cut back on my computer/tablet use and I've started keeping track of the days where we go without T.V. completely, just for fun. Do I someday hope we become a T.V. free family, and we can just get rid of the tube? Not really. I don't think T.V. is the root of all evil, I just think we can all be doing something else instead. But I do love my shows (thank goodness Scandal is back on!!) and there is nothing like a good family movie, but for the day to day? If we're mostly to completely free of screen time, I think we'll be all the better for it.