Battling with Borders

I have been itching inside lately. An itch that i can not find, a pestering sort of itch that needs a really good scratch and relief.

I have been faced - or perhaps it is I who is not necessarily being faced, but doing the seeking.

When the three children were barely making their markings on this Earth - I had clear vision on where each marking was to be placed. I mapped out their day to day and made sure that all were scheduled accordingly. Play dates were over before 1:00 pm and all heads were laying upon pillows promptly by 1:15. During summer months, small running legs and laughing children were interrupted from outside play - as quiet time was soon approaching and all needed moments of rest. This followed by a strict 8pm bed time with ritual of read alouds, bath time and tuck ins. This part was easy for us, for all were able to read in bed after good night kisses.


I was strict on borders and boundaries and proud of accomplished parenting -

I didn't know better.

Tonight is a school night. at 8:35pm, voices of children are heard outside. Mine are pj'd, teeth brushed, and in bed. in 20 minutes, they will hear my voice, "lights out."

Chores have now been the filler. Piano Practice. School Work. Earned Computer Time. Nothing seems to come easy in this house that is overseen by yours truly.

Recently, stories have filled the news of 13 year olds climbing Mt. Everest. 16 year old sailing the seas and 17 year olds rowing across the Atlantic alone. Olympic Athletes, X-Game participants, breath taking outdoor adventure seekers - most likely were not called in by their mother for quiet time every day at 1pm.

Today, two neighbor boys began fighting across the street, physically punching and yelling and hurting. I yelled, "Knock it off!" and as they stopped, they were left with heated words towards the other. Loud yells and accusations filled the surround. I sat and watched, prepared to interfere if needed, but let it go- my children were not actively involved. I was surprised, however, that the parent of the home the fight was brewing never stepped out of the house. This is not all together atypical. Her boys are let free and always have been. I am the parent with borders and she can't seem to find the line that is crossed daily. Her children are being raised in an independent, self-reliant world.

BREAK

I had to pause. The last sentence is true, but it is also true for my own children. They are all independent and self-reliant.

So, what is it? Why do i wear the badge of damage? Who are the 'good' parents? and what are their secrets to success? Have I stripped passion away from my children while stifling them with borders? with any decent border patrol, each one is keenly aware when the have crossed over and need to be put back in place. I think it's time to change hands. I think it's time to scratch that itch.