Have we created weakness?

Haha… I’m laughing. This photo popped up on social media today and brought back good childhood memories. We were SO much tougher than kids today. Our parents were even tougher than us. Walking to school in 10 feet of snow both ways uphill.

I had a little mishap this weekend with a shovel. First off, it should be noted that I was wearing van slip ons… very practical indeed. I was ambitiously digging 16, 2 foot deep holes for all the perennials I bought for $400.00 and will likely kill before the first freeze this fall.

I missed the big stomp and caught the back of my leg and oh mutherfucker… I stood there holding the back of my leg f-bombing and not wanting to look. That kind of pain where if you take the pressure off you are going to likely faint. “Chris… commeeeerrrr… omg… commeeeeeerrr….”. He came and held me up and I slowly took my hand away. He said, “oh shit, that hurts.”. I look down, “Jeezus christ… its dented in!!! What if I tore my achilles?”. Chris said nothing… that kind of had me worried. So he helped me one foot hop onto the grass and then I stubbornly put my foot down and hobbled to the house.

Son of a bitch that hurt!

So I got some ice on it and I was pissed right off . I had like 10 more holes to dig! This is not easy digging I might add. Clay and rock. Oh and here is the really funny part – Chris brought me this heavy spike thing. Likely 35-40 pounds. I was jamming that bitch like nobody’s business through those rocks and turned to him and said, “You know, not many chicks would be able to do this. Lift this thing over and over and over…” I was feeling a little cocky. Chris says, “Yeah, I’m super proud of you…” Me beaming like a five year old who just got a gold star. Two minutes later…

The next morning I got up, it hurt, the night was rough. My other foot was also somehow bruised. Took some advil, iced and got back on my mission. Six-km walk with the dog, dug those last 10 holes and baked two rhubarb pies – that’s for another post… sour as shit.

Anyway, my point of this (w)hole post – When I saw that playground meme this morning, all the comments were about how tough we were as kids. You have to build that grit. Now we worry about every goddamn thing our kids touch and do. I even have that Life 360 app on my kids phones. Sometimes I will ask my Mom questions like, “What the HELL were you thinking letting us do (insert such and such)?”, like seriously Mom, were you smoking dope? She says, “Oh I don’t know, I didn’t worry about you two (my brother and I), like I do our grandkids.” Go figure… lucky I was alive long enough to produce them.

They’ve taken out all that fun stuff on the playground. Now its all about safety. No more getting your tongue stuck to the dome in the winter. No more flipping bars to bash your head in on. No more monkey bars to fall off of. Soft. We’ve created soft.

I will admit I’m a bit of a hard-ass. I came by it honestly. I’ve also been told numerous times that I have a high pain threshold. Maybe it was that one time I sprained my ankle and my Dad replied with, “Oh you’re fine.”, as I hobbled around for a week before seeing a doctor. That could be why when our oldest, Jillienne, fell over and “hurt her leg” while skiing we waited 24 hours before taking her to the ER. Turns out she had a huge spiral fracture of her tibia. Mom of the year award there.

I don’t claim to know what’s right or wrong. I’m sure everyone has an opinion. There are a lot of good things that have been implemented over the years in terms of safety, such as seatbelts – haha. To think… Somehow our parents survived, we survived and our kids will survive. I just think we are so quick to bandaid everything. Let them get dirty, don’t jump to save them after every fall, cut and bruise. Otherwise, one day they won’t be able to dig their own holes.

What do you think?


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