Mom? Dad? Is anyone there?

This weekend Blond Eyes was in a Christmas Parade for the city. We got up at 6:45 on a Saturday morning to usher her off to the starting point. The parade is hosted every year by different people and this year it was hosted by her color guard squad. The hosts were asked to be there earlier than the rest of the band. Her parents, her little brother, and her grandparents all lined up along the side of the road to see her march down the street in the mist of this giant hooha. When it was over she said that one of the members of her guard needed a ride home, because her parents weren't up yet. Not up yet? So they didn't even go?

This turned over in my mind for the rest of the day and on into the night. I decided it would be the next weeks blog post....but a few days are always needed to mull things over a bit in my head. Sunday morning I got up and a friend of mine had posted a blog link for her pregnant friends. I read the post, and it was in line with my thoughts...sort of. It was meant to encourage and set fears a side to expectant mothers, BUT in doing so it talked about how moms in the days of old did things. Which is what I had been thinking about the night before. Except, not just about moms, more in general.

Here are my thoughts on involved parenting.

Ages back I wrote a post about being involved. A month before school started Blonde Eyes was in band camp. Just before the start of school they were suppose to go in at predesignated times (based on their name) to pick up their schedules and have their ID badges made. Well, her time fell while she was at band camp. I thought there would be no issue, and figured she didn't really want me there anyways. You know...Miss High School and all. Not to mention...she was already going to be there due to the camp. Sadly, there ended up being an issue and she was unable to get her schedule or anything else done. She came home all sorts of upset with me. She even cried over it. She accused me, YOU'RE ALWAYS THERE! AND TODAY YOU WEREN'T!!

Miss High School indeed. I have come to understand that even though she puts up this front and tries to act like you're embarrassing her...she always glances out of the corner of her eye. She's looking, and she expects to see you there. As she marched up the street I saw her glance from the corner of her eye at us, I saw a grin creep across her mouth, she was dying for you NOT to call her name....but bygolly you had better do it. She turned her head at us to object to her brother's overly loud rejoicing....but not too much, because he might stop.

Shhhhh, you're embarrassing me!!

Afterwards she complained about the fuss. It was already hard enough to do her flag work and walk at the same time without having to deal with the distraction. Yet, you know that if there had been no distraction the complaint would have been...no one even cared!

I thought back to a very impressionable night of my youth. Despite the fact that one mostly didn't want to have any attention in my house there were a few times where I wished... just for a moment we were different people. This one particular night probably the most. 

Every year my elementary school had what they called a "Spaghetti Dinner" night. It was catered by Olive Garden. You came with your family to eat and to watch a show. Part of which was put on by a group of fifth graders. I had been in that group. I worked with my group for a long time to memorize this routine. That night, I got all dressed up in my costume. I walked out the door, and walked myself to the school. My parents were home. My siblings weren't doing anything important. I walked myself to school.

I did my performance. When it was done I stood in the entry way looking into the cafeteria. All the students sitting with their families, the teachers sitting together, and everyone enjoying their meal. Where would I sit? I decided I didn't belong there. So, I walked myself home. 

My children have never been forced to feel that way. When they scan the masses...there is always someone there. Miss High School is proving...there is no age limit to wanting to have your own personal cheering team.

The grin that betrays her mask of disgust.

Sure, in the old days things were different. Parents weren't involved. Even less so than what my parents were. Each generation back there was less and less involving yourself with parenting. I'm glad that the being involved part has mostly changed. Obviously it hasn't for everyone. There are some changes though that I find sad. 

I use to take myself to the park, swimming, ride my bike across town to the beach, travel up and down the islands of Florida....and no one cared. We'd walk into a theme park and it was "you come back here at X time", and that was the last you saw your parents....and no one cared. Today, most kids can't even play out in the yard without someone glued to the window. They don't dare just wander out in the open and out of sight.

Can we be involved in our kids lives AND let them have the freedom of NOT being kidnapped? That would be great...wouldn't it?