Kids Being Kids

Almost every year since my kids were small, we kick off the opening of the splash pads by visiting the splash park on a warm day, fully clothed, and unexpectedly.  When my son was small, he would just wear a diaper, then as they got older, all of their clothes would stay on and we would randomly stop at the park when we realized the water was turned on.  This was the first year we didn’t do that. It wasn’t for any particular reason, we’ve been plenty of times (in bathing suits) but timing and the lack of truly hot days meant that we didn’t see an early splash around and have since been prepared for stops.

Last week I took the kids after school with bathing suits.  We ended up with the park to ourselves, as sometimes happens on a random weekday.  They played in the sand, then water, then sand while I sat in the shade at a picnic table under a gazebo.

About 30 minutes into our visit, two young boys rode into the park with their bikes, their backpacks still on. I imagined they stayed a bit later after school kicking around a soccer ball, or playing basketball as I see many kids doing when the bell goes at the end of the day.  They popped out the kickstand on their bikes and moved towards the splash pad. At this point, my kids were in the sand or going down the slides, and since we were still the only other ones there, the older boys were free to roam around the water fairly uninterrupted, and with little fear of being splashed by the younger folk.

I watched them, they were likely about 10 or 11 years old, walking the outer edges as the water splashed up and around and in loops.  They tentatively put their hands in, then their arms a bit more.  One leaned his head back to get it wet. “Take off your shoes.” One said, but the other boy shook his head no.  The same boy, the one who didn’t want to take his shoes off, was the one who put the back of his head into a stream of water. “Put your head in” he said, encouraging his friend to do what he was doing. “I don’t want to get my back wet” was the reply.

As I watched them slowly, carefully touching the water, feeling out the space, I couldn’t help but wonder if they really wanted to jump in.  They were clearly older than my 5 and 7 year olds who were rolling around in the sand across the way, but yet, I could see they were still just kids, even if they may not always want to admit it.

Were they just not wanting to get wet, knowing they’d have to bike home, however far that may be?  Were they worried they would get in trouble if they showed up at home, soaked head to toe in water? Were they trying not to seem ‘uncool’ to each other by admitting that they could have some fun in the water?  I’m not sure if there motivation was any more than simply not being in the mood to jump through cold water, despite the hot temperatures, but it did make me wonder.

Our annual tradition of fully-clothed splash park fun is partly because there are things I like to do on a whim (and that was always one of them) and partly because I want my children to feel free to have fun and live in the moment when they can.  Even as they get older, so long as they are making appropriate decisions, taking time to just enjoy random, happy moments is so crucial.

I want my children, as they get older, to choose the silly in life sometimes.  To get wet.  To run through the splash pad on their way home.  To jump in with clothes on. To not try and be older than they are.  To be kids, or kids at heart no matter their age.  We are a house that has rules and deadlines and discipline just like everyone else.  We can’t always be the fun parents and we’ve learned to accept that.  But I want them to make their own fun.  And to see us having fun.

I regret not having our fully-clothed stop to play in the water a month ago when the parks opened, even if the timing and weather may have been out of my control.  I regret it only because the message that it sends to them is important.

That message is simple: Have fun.  Be kids.  It’s okay to get wet. In fact, I insist.