Kids of the urban jungle
My poor children. They have no childhood! They have no freedom! They have no fun! Do you know why? Because I’m their mother! I set rules, restrictions, and regulations for everything! I use the system of rewards and punishments! I watch them! I make sure they know their limits! I control them! I’m a control freak!
I remember a conversation I had with my younger son Anis when he was five, he told me: “Mother, I’m tired of rules. Why do we always have to earn everything, why don’t we get everything just like that, like the other kids? And do you know what I answered – “Congratulations my son! You are only five, but you have already got the essence of life! In this life none ever gets anything just like that, without earning it!” I’m a terrible mother, I know!
But I had a totally different childhood. I lived in a small town in the north of Moldova called Balti. We resided in a place where everyone had a small one-storey house and a common yard. We also had a tiny garden and my mom planted there parsley, carrots, tomatoes and a little bit of everything a good housewife might have needed. My parents, wait a second, absolutely everyone’s parents were at work. It was still Soviet Union and everyone had to work! So kids were always outside, playing with each other, being called home only to eat and to watch a cartoon. And we watched one cartoon a day, not because of some kind of parental restrictions, but because soviet channels simply broadcasted one or two cartoons a day. Still I had absolutely carefree, control free and happy childhood! I can’t remember how many dresses I tore when I was climbing fences and trees, I can’t tell you exactly the amount of jam, butter and other yammies eaten by my friends who stepped by in our house. However, I remember a big black and brand new umbrella of my father which I broke when I jumped from the roof of a 3 storey building, in pursue of a dream to fly.