Some of my best childhood memories involve a drainage ditch that ran between two streets near my house. My BFF Robyn and I spent countless hours playing there, jumping from rock to rock, climbing the banks, following the little stream of water to its end in a bigger creek, finding treasures, and watching bugs. It was a child’s paradise.
When we weren’t playing in the ditch, we were riding our bikes, playing Ghosts in the Graveyard with the other neighborhood kids, jumping rope, climbing trees, or exploring the outdoor world. We all hit the screen door as soon as we’d finish our homework and didn’t come home again until the mothers started calling us for dinner.
Nowadays, it’s hard to find neighborhoods teeming with children playing outdoors. Organized sports, two-income homes, fear of stranger abductions, rise of a video game culture and concerns about neighborhood safety all play into the fact that kids spend less time outside than a generation ago.
In our house, we have decided that outdoors is best, weather dependent, of course. We kick our four kids out every chance we get to ride scooters, bikes, go to a local playground (yes, by themselves!), play in our yard, etc. On the first really warm day of spring, they celebrate by donning bathing suits and playing out front in the sprinkler.
If you need convincing that outdoors is best, pick up a copy of Richard Louv’s excellent book, Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder. He writes in the first chapter that “nature inspires creativity in a child by demanding visualization and the full use of the senses.”
Louv makes a compelling case that being outdoors helps children stay fit, not just physically, but mentally, too. He also says that free play outdoors is more healthy for a child than organized sports. Children need more open spaces not dedicated to soccer fields but for self-directed play.
So the next nice day when the temperature hits 50, kick the kids outside for free play time. And join them for some fresh air yourself.
Until next time,
Sarah
