Bring back carefree 1970s era parenting, argues Susie O’Brien
Out in the suburbs in the 1970s, we raised ourselves, risking our lives on death-trap trampolines and double-dinks on our bikes. So why aren’t we raising our own kids the same way?
The other day I was standing in my driveway making circle motions with my finger at my son who was sitting inside the car.
Guess what he did next?
Nothing.
He just gazed at me like I was a total moron.
He had no idea I was trying to get him to wind the window down, because he’s only ever used a button to do this, not a handle requiring elbow grease.
It started me thinking about my own 1970s childhood spent sliding along smoking hot vinyl rear seats of our Holden Kingswood.
My 1970s childhood had fizzy drinks and wizzy dizzies. Murder in the dark. Kiss chasey. Dad driving around town with one elbow out the window.
Babies that were strapped into bassinettes that weren’t strapped into cars. Double dinks on Easy Rider-style Malvern Star bikes. The Curiority Show featuring men in skivvies.
Like it? Charge it. Bankcard. Socks and roman sandals for school.
Holly Hobbie, collecting smurfs, Tang - and Tang-coloured stains on the carpet.
Buying dad’s Marlborough cigarettes – he called them “smokes”- and mixed lollies at the local milk bar.
Our lives were simpler, but we didn’t know that at the time. We wouldn’t realise how lucky we were for another 30 years.
(OK, so maybe the baby rolling around the floor of the car with the head injury that wouldn’t be diagnosed until someone invented the CAT scan wasn’t all that lucky.)
This is why I am trying to give my kids a 1970s upbringing – without the flared jeans and Abba albums.
It’s because back then kids playing alone in the park was normal, not worthy of a human services check.
Children were naughty and punished, not labeled and medicated.
You could share food at school when someone forgot their lunch.
You could have parties without gatecrashers and alerting the police to be on standby.
Imagine. A world without antibacterial handwash or kids’ lunch boxes with insulation and built-in freezer bricks.
Children’s names that didn’t need to be spelt out every single time.
Clothes with the brand name on the label, not emblazoned across the front.
Back then, we went to the hospital emergency because someone had a piece of Lego up their nose, not just because they hurt their hand playing soccer.
We learnt to drive in shopping centre car parks.
And weekends were about parents, not getting kids to sporting events.
This is why I am going to let my kids be free without over-scheduling every second of the day.
I am even going to embrace a concept we sure knew a lot about as kids: boredom.
I am going to let them hurt themselves and do dangerous things like we did such as make a slide with a sleeping bag off the shed roof. (It wasn’t my finest hour, and I was punished by having a ripped sleeping bag for the next decade.)
Back then, you see, there were consequences for doing silly things, and items were mended rather than replaced.
I am going to take my kids to the pool and let them stay all day until their hair goes green and their fingers are wrinkled.
I am going to let them go to friends’ houses in the school holidays and pick them up two days later just when the mothers start to lose hope they’ll ever leave.
I’ll leave my older kids in the car for five minutes outside a shop if it’s convenient.
I will also have faith in their survival instincts and leave them home alone. Why don’t parents these days do what our parents did, and trust them to run if the house catches fire (it won’t) or hide if there’s a burglar (there won’t be)?
I also want my kids to learn how to amuse themselves without electronic babysitters.
I remember getting up to mischief when our parents were busy at dinner parties getting hammered on the Ben Ean Moselle and Coolibah cask wine (remember the green one with the lady in the boat on it?).
At dinner parties my sister and I would play “mums and dads” in the dark on bunk beds with boys while our parents were eating Margaret Fulton’s beef stroganoff served on the “good china”.
And we spent our weekends running around in the sprinklers on the back lawn when it was too hot to play on the death-trap rectangular trampoline with exposed metal springs.
But funnily enough, no one did get hurt.
This is all why the ‘70s are seen as a high water mark for childhood.
We knew less, we cared less, we did less.
Most importantly, we didn’t have play dates; we just played with all the kids in the neighbourhood.
And when it got dark and we got hungry, we just got on our bikes and rode home, not forgetting to grab some smokes and cask of wine for our parents from the shops on the way.
OK, so there are a few things around today that have made life better, like bike helmets, seat belts, car seats, trampoline nets, SPF 30 sunscreen and laws that prohibit kids from stocking up on smokes and booze at the corner store.
And yes, automatic windows.
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Originally published as Bring back carefree 1970s era parenting, argues Susie O’Brien
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