The NY Times recently had an article exploring what the appropriate age is to leave children home alone.   Anyone who is a parent has faced this dilemma and I can honestly say that it is the number one thing I have conversations about with other parents of tweens.  Hushed conversations, because this topic is so divisive.  One friend wouldn’t leave her child home alone until he was 14, while yet another friend allows her 8 yr old to arrive home to an empty house every afternoon for a couple hours until she gets home from work.  Both feel as though the other is judging their decision.

As for me I sort of shrug.  Both seem slightly extreme to me, but who am I to judge each individual circumstance? 

I spent every afternoon home alone when I was a child from the time I was in third grade.  And by the time I was in seventh grade I spent my summers and school breaks home alone.  I lived on the beach and was allowed to go there everyday.  Something I am certain I would not feel  comfortable allowing my 13 yr old to do.

 As far as my children staying home alone, or babysitting siblings, I have broken them in slowly.  Leaving them for short periods of time and gradually increasing the time.  I have also discovered that personalities play a huge role rather than strictly age.  My oldest son rules the house in absence with an iron fist.  He is the rule enforcer.  There will be no fun under his watch.  I am exaggerating of course, but when I return home after leaving him in charge the house is tidy, everyone is quietly doing something like watching tv, and any snacks or food that were eaten were explicitly served by him. 

My next oldest son, who is just one year younger, is all about having fun.  He is the one who will think nothing of baking brownies  or cupcakes with his siblings to entertain them.  And leave every single baking utensil I own laying out in the kitchen.  There will have been elaborate games played and toys will be everywhere. 

Both of them are great with their siblings, but they do so very differently.  And both of their styles are okay. I was slightly more worried about my younger son but then one day we had a kitchen fire while I was home and cooking and he was the one who ran for the fire extinguisher and put the fire out.

I have to wonder if the economy has caused parents to leave their children, who are right on the cusp of their comfort zone, home alone because they can not afford a babysitter or summer camp. 

On the NYT parenting blog, Motherlode, Lisa Belkin asks, “At what age would you let your child…?”

She then poses a list of questions to ponder.

Among them,

stay in the car while you run an errand?

go on a date?

see a PG-13 movie?

babysit for the neighbor’s children?

How do you feel about this?  Do you have any hardfast rules about what ages your children need to be before they can do certain things or have certain privileges?  Did you have any hardfast rules that you reconsidered?  And if so, why did you reconsider?

I saw a link to this study on another blog and found it fascinating.  What makes people truly happy?

 Turns out that it isn’t “stuff” or money; the study has revealed that the happiest people surround themselves with family and friends, don’t care about keeping up with the Joneses next door, lose themselves in daily activities and, most important, forgive easily… the happiest people spend the least amount of time alone.

It all seems logical reading about the study, but how many of us  play the if-only game inside our head.  I would be happy if only I lost 10 pounds.  I would be happy if  only I get that promotion at work.  I would be happy if  only I had more money. When really none of those things are going to dramatically change our lives and make us happier.  This would explain why lottery winners don’t end up having lives that are any happier than they were before they won.

How do we model happiness for our children?  I have been thinking a lot about this.  The study revealed that everyone has a certain set point for happiness that is genetically determined, but that the way each individual chooses to live their  life determines their actual level of happiness. 

Do I make a conscious effort not to attach happiness to material things?  Or am I falling into that consumerism trap?  Do they see me taking joy in the little things, the things that really matter?  Do I show  them how happy they make  me?  Or how much the laughter with my friends  means to me?

Because above all else in this  life, I want my children to grow  up to be happy and content adults.

When my oldest children were young I read to them every single night.  We had a very strict routine as well as a very firm bedtime. I was a fan of the routine and schedule.  Some people might have accused me of being overly tied to it.  But I did not care.  Come 7:00 pm, my kids were bathed, pajamed, read to, and tucked into their beds.  And the rest of the evening was mine to enjoy in peace and quiet.

Now the I have older children, who often have evening activities, many days we do not sit down to eat dinner until 8:30pm.  Sometimes, it is even later.  Bedtime routines are virtually non-existent, even for my four and five year old.  We never have time for bedtime stories anymore. 

Now this doesn’t mean I don’t read to my children, I do.  In fact I would say that we read quite a bit, but at bedtime?  No.

According to a study in Great Britain, three quarters of British parents say they are too busy to read bedtime stories to their children.

While 95 per cent of parents have read to their children at some point, only five per cent of those polled read to their children during the day.

More than one in ten said they read every couple of weeks or less, and five per cent could not remember the last time they shared a book.

I have to admit that I am shocked by these statistics.  Ten percent only read to their children every couple  of weeks?  And five percent can not remember the last time they read to their children?  That is unbelievable.

I had a friend who worked in early childhood education tell me that she was initially shocked  by the number of children who would come to school the first day and have no idea what to do with a book or how to hold it.  Children who had obviously never been read to.  Books and reading are such a huge part of my life that I can not even fathom this. 

When we recently moved the moving men told me that they had never before seen a family with so many books.  It made me oddly proud, since most of them belong to my children and have been read.

So what about you?  Do you have a bedtime routine that involves reading bedtime stories?  Or do you do your reading at other times of the day?  As I typed this I just began wondering if I worked outside of the home and wasn’t here with my little ones all day if I would make the time for bedtime reading.