Let Them Stay Kids

My daughter is almost nine years old and still loves her lambie. The lamb that was our favorite gift to give her on her first Christmas that took my husband three months of shopping and research to find. She also loves Legos, sewing, crafts and sometimes Star Wars, when it doesn’t scare her.

We homeschool our children for various academic reasons, but when I look at my daughter I’m reminded of one of the pleasant side effects. For the most part, she is okay with being a kid. She has a few friends who already have phones and have given up playing with dolls in favor of tablets. Occasionally she asks me if it’s OK that she doesn’t want to grow up quite yet. While I would like her to learn to do some more mature things, like clean up after herself and help out more around the house, it gives me great joy to see her being a kid.

I remember my mom telling me that I had my whole life to be a grown up, and only a few years to be a child. I didn’t understand it fully at the time, though I was someone who enjoyed playing with dolls, even if only in private, well into my teen years. I see in those stories the early budding of a writer.

My daughter has quite an imagination, one that sometimes affects her interpretation of the truth. She says,

This makes me more glad than I can say. In the culture that seems to push sexual maturity and adult like behaviors on children and yet allows young adults to remain perpetually infantilized, it is a complicated line to walk. Can I give her more age appropriate responsibility without subtracting from these beautiful, innocent years? I hope so.

As far as I’m concerned, she can sleep with her lambie until she gets married (or longer) and build with Legos forever. Adult life is hard enough and lack of an ability to enjoy imagination and play only makes it more difficult. I often wish I could scrub my mind of the responsibilities of today in favor of when I had the time and freedom to play, where time stood still as I embraced imaginary worlds and I didn’t worry about anything until I was called for dinner.

I can still experience some of this. Even as an adult with all too many responsibilities weighing on me I have a loving Father whom I can lay it all upon. I want to learn to release the cares of today, stop worrying about tomorrow and engage the creativity I know I have been given.  It may not be dolls, though it could be. It could be in words, or music or handicrafts. Anything that brings me joy and is done purely for pleasure rather than utility. So often I make my creative pursuits into projects and requirements rather than embracing wonder and fun. I just hope I can remember how.