Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts

Adventures in Rome – Day Trippin’ in Tivoli

“Mi scusi! How do you get to Tivoli?”

Renowned for its deep river gorges, and cascading waterfalls, we decided to take a day trip to the nearby city of Tivoli.

Key words: DAY TRIP.

This alleged half-hour jaunt took us all day to get there. Why you may ask?

Well…it’s complicated. Let’s just say that despite our incredible cost savings by staying in an apartment (advantage!), there’s something to be said for having a front desk staff and concierge to answer questions and book excursions (disadvantage!).

We actually started out all right. Sure we didn’t have a guide book or a map of Tivoli, but my hubby, Chris, and I both remembered reading that we could take the train to Tivoli from nearby Termini Station. So we hailed a cab and were promptly deposited at the station entrance. We walked into the bustling building, and the kids and I went to stand in the exceptionally long ticket line. But…

Chris didn’t want to wait.
So he went over to a machine and managed to purchase tickets for four to Tivoli for a mere $9.20 Euros instead of the $48 Euros the cab driver had told us it would probably cost. Hmmm…curious.

It took us another half hour of wandering around the station attempting to communicate in halting/broken Italian/English to figure out the tickets he’d purchased were actually leaving from a different train station. So we hustled back outside and hailed another cab to take us to the new train station, Tiburtina.

Once there, we eventually discovered where we needed to be and boarded the train with several other people. It took off, only to come to a complete stop a few minutes later. We sat there for several seconds. Some people got on. Some people got off. Then the train started again. This happened several times and we realized that although it was called a “train” it was actually more like an above-ground subway (perhaps the rampant graffiti should have tipped us off), stopping at different cities along the way to our destination.

“How will we know when to get off?” Ashleigh asked anxiously, while Chris dozed contentedly beside me.

“Well, I can see different signs out the window every time we stop,” I replied with pretend confidence. “As soon as we see a sign that says ‘Tivoli,’ we’ll know to get off.”

After about half an hour, we came to a stop. I read a sign that said: “Bagna di Tivoli.”

Everybody we had boarded the train with in Rome got up and waited expectantly for the doors to open.

“This must be it!” I said, and we all hopped off the train. It jetted off down the track, while we stood blinking in the bright sunlight, getting accustomed to our surroundings.

The sun shone down hotly on a lone bench. A slight breeze ruffled the grass of the empty fields across from of us. Everybody from the train quickly disbursed, and we found ourselves alone. There was an empty café beside the empty train station. An Italian tumbleweed rolled past. (Okay, not really, but you get the idea.)

As we’d experienced several times since coming to Rome, there just weren’t any people around for question-answering.

I walked into the station, which was actually a small room with a couple of ticket machines and no people, of course. I found a map of the train route and figured out that—surprise, surprise—we were actually NOT in Tivoli. Nope. It appeared that Tivoli was another three stops and several miles up the track. Studying the train schedule, we figured out that another train would pass through the station in approximately 40 minutes.

“Let’s just sit here on this nice bench and wait for the next train,” I suggested. But…

Chris didn’t want to wait.
So we hoofed it up the vacant road and onto the main street. This was obviously a small town. No taxis to be seen anywhere. Unlike the crowded streets of Rome, we stood out like Pizza Margherita in a gelataria. People openly stared as we made our way up the street. You could practically hear them thinking, “You ain’t from here.” (Except in Italian, of course.)

“I guess Bagna di Tivoli doesn’t get a lot of tourist traffic,” I commented, nodding politely to wide-eyed passersby.

Suddenly, we noticed a bus drive past with “Tivoli” lit up across its front banner. Several moments later another one came by. We spotted a newspaper stand up ahead and Chris asked the clerk if she knew where we might get a bus ticket to Tivoli. And guess what? For $1 Euro each, we got tickets!

Eventually, a third bus came up the road, and we clambered on board. The bus took off. However, just like the train, it stopped periodically to let people on and off. Ashleigh shot me a look.

Once again, I wondered how we’d know when we were in Tivoli. As we peered out the windows, I noticed we were climbing higher and higher up a steep, winding road. I recalled that Tivoli was described as a hilltop city. So once we hit the town at the top, I suggested we get off the bus. We disembarked and finally—3-1/2 hours, two taxis, one train and a bus ride later—we found ourselves in the center square of the hilly town of Tivoli.

We intended to tour several villas and a nature park in the city, but it was now 3:00 p.m. and we were starving. So we stopped to eat. When we’d finished, Chris caved and asked the restaurant manager for directions to a couple of the sites we wanted to see. (In case he ever tries to deny he stopped to ask directions, I have evidence!)

We chose to start with Villa Gregoriana Park, and hiked uphill about a mile or so to get there. The park is named for Pope Gregory XVI, who saved Tivoli from river damage by diverting the river through a tunnel, weakening its flow, and creating the Grande Cascade waterfall.

The park was very lush and green.

It had a raw, natural beauty that was in complete contrast to big-city Rome. I didn’t realize how much I was missing fresh air, flowers and just being in nature until be started hiking around the Villa Gregoriana.

As promised, it was full of beautiful gorges, refreshing waterfalls, and ancient castle remains.

Here is a ruin of an ancient Temple of Vesta from the Villa’s trail.

Okay, maybe it was worth it. By the time we left the park, it was after 5:00 p.m. Chris wanted to stay in town and do more exploring. But…

Holly didn’t want to wait.
I figured it might be best if we used our remaining time to figure out where the train station was, and when the last train left Tivoli since it was Good Friday. From the park’s ticket counter, we were directed to hike further up the steep hill where we found the train station. Another one-room deal offering no actual humans, only machines. My hubby once again purchased tickets. This time the cost for all four of us was $24.50 Euros to get back to Rome. Hmmm…curious.

Our trip back home was much quicker and less eventful. A quick stop for gelato…

And we finally made it back to the apartment around 7:30 p.m.

We all flopped down, ready to call it a night. Or so I thought. But Chris was still up for adventure. “Let’s head downtown to see the Pope lead the 9:00 p.m. Good Friday procession to the Colosseum,” he suggested.

While massaging my tired tootsies, I cleared my throat to be certain my whine was in full throttle. “Awwww, hon’. Let’s not. It’ll be super crowded and I’m soooo tired now. Plus it’s getting late. I don’t want to be lost in downtown Rome in the dark.”

(Okay, I’m seriously NOT making this next part up.)

The minute the word “dark” was out of my mouth, BAM! All the power in the apartment building went out. We all sat very still. Blinking in the now total darkness.

Chris walked to the window and looked out. “Yup. It’s just our building. Everybody else still has power.”

Unbelievable. I sighed. (A sign?)

“Well kids, we may as well put our shoes back on and go. It’s better than sitting here bored in the dark.

We headed downtown; the streets were flooded with people. Like salmon swimming upstream, everybody was flowing towards the Colosseum, hoping for a glimpse of the Pope. After talking with a police officer, we discovered that unfortunately, we wouldn’t be able to see any of the procession from the street, but we saw lots of interesting people.


More priest and nun sightings.



We got back late and tumbled into bed. The power was back on. Yeah!

Stay tuned for one more post, Adventures in Rome: The Final Episode.
Gelato image by Samuraijohnny

How to Deal with Empty Nest: 10 Things I Don’t Miss About You

Well, we’re three months into this new Empty Nester thing and I still miss the boy. Since I’ve embarrassed Ashleigh plenty of times on the ol’ blog, I decided it was Josh’s turn. Again. (Heh, heh!) All’s fair in love and family! To help me along in this EN transition, I thought if I wrote a top 10 list about stuff I DON’T miss now that he’s gone, it might help. So here goes…

10 Things I Don’t Miss About You

How you liked to play with knives.


Then you liked to play
with bigger knives.


How you’d decide that midnight was a good time to go walk around the neighborhood with your buds.


The motorcycle! ‘Nuf said.


How disgusting you’d let
the bathroom get.
(For the record, this isn't our bathroom. It looks way better ours did!)


How trashed our living room was.


Getting up at 5:50 a.m.


How you liked to longboard.
In the dark!


Nagging you. (You probably don’t miss that either!)

The daily loads of dirty, sweaty, mud-stained soccer laundry.

*Sigh* Yeah, I’m totally lying.  I miss it all. Seriously, all of it.

Hey! You parents out there! Any of you who are going through difficult or challenging times with your kid and you’re thinking, I can’t wait till they’re gone so we can have some peace and quiet around here--I admit, there’s some good stuff about becoming Empty Nesters. And maybe I’ll write a post about that someday. But the truth is…sometimes I really do miss those noisy, stressful, nagging, messy times the most.

How do you get through those times when you're missing someone?








The Sound of Silence

It’s finally happened. He’s graduated. In a couple of months he’ll be leaving home. After decades of parenting, my youngest baby bird will be leaving the nest.

And things will never be the same.

When our oldest left for college, I’d like to say I adjusted well. I did not. I was a mess! It was strange and sad, and it took me months to be able to listen to Owl City’s "Vanilla Twilight" without sobbing.

But eventually…

Life went on, and I established a new normal. At least I still had Josh—and the whole high school routine—to keep me grounded. But now what? High school is over for this household. Forever! The change in routine will be really weird. What I’m most afraid of, though…is the coming sound of silence.

Don’t misunderstand. I’m not one of those people who can’t stand being alone. I enjoy a little peace and quiet. For example, right now I’m working outside on our deck. (Love this part of freelancing soooo much!) I close my eyes and the only sounds I hear are the birds calling to each other, the soft breeze whispering in the leaves overhead, and the distant hum of traffic. That’s it. And I love it.

But the other night, Josh had one of his infamous gatherings. The evening began with a surprise party for one of his buddies. As I worked in our home office, I was serenaded by talking and laughter as the group hung streamers, decorated a cake, and created a scavenger hunt. At 11:00 p.m., the girls were formally kicked out by the boys, and “Guys’ Night” commenced. More talking and laughing, broken up by Seven-Eleven Slurpee runs, and shouts from X-Box victors. The sweet, sweet music of teenage bonding.

That’s the stuff I’m going to miss most.  

What will I do with the silence? Will I be able to embrace it? Will I try to fill it with the artificial sounds of the television or radio playing in the background? I don’t want to fear it. But I think I do a little bit.

As parents, when our child climbed onto that school bus on their first day of kindergarten, so did we.

When they made the team, scored the winning goal, got the part in the play, finally aced that test, so did we.

When they got cut from the team, hurt by a friend, failed that test, struggled in school, so did we.

And then…suddenly…they’re gone.


And I’m left wondering, will I be able to handle the silence?



Image by: Nosha

And So It Begins…


It was quiet.

Too quiet.

I couldn’t take it anymore!

Chris had been gone for a week and the loneliness sort of snuck up on me. I’d been putting in long hours on a writing project with a tight deadline. On Saturday evening, I rose to the surface, looked around, and realized I was alone. My social butterfly son Josh--who normally is happy to oblige me when I encourage him to invite friends over--just happened to have been gone two nights in a row. In general, I don’t mind alone time. I even enjoy it. But two full days was too much. I needed people!

People Who Need People


The following day was Superbowl Sunday. Josh was invited to a Superbowl Party and the hosting boy’s parents happened to be some of my favorite people. In a bold move I invited myself over. My darling friends not only gracefully agreed, but were kind enough to let me in the door after I admitted that I didn’t even know who was playing. (I know, I know--I’m un-American!) I do love the commercials, though. Here are two of my favorites!

"Space Babies" 2014 Kia Sorento Big Game Ad


Viva Young - 2013 Taco Bell Game Day Commercial


I ended up having a blast! As I drove home after the game, though, it occurred to me that this is my future. The loneliness I experienced while Chris was gone was a small taste of what I have to look forward to in a mere six months when our baby boy starts college in the fall. I’m dreading our upcoming status as full-fledged Empty Nesters (EN). Part of the problem is, as a freelance writer I work from my home. Alone. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE, LOVE my job, but it’s not like I can mosey down the hall for a chat with the person in the next office. When my hubby travels, will I turn into one of those people who leaves the TV on for company? Will my one-sided conversations with the dog become the norm?

Another thing is, I genuinely love the hubbub of having teens in the house. I adore when Josh’s friends are over talking, laughing, eating cookies, making noise and staying up too late. I’m going to have to make some serious adjustments. Push myself to reach out more--as I did on Superbowl Sunday. I’ve been assured by many ENs that there are benefits to the EN lifestyle. Like when I asked an EN couple at the Superbowl Party if they had any difficulty adjusting, they both shouted “NO!” at the same time. Hilarious!

Other people I’ve talked to acknowledge that while it’s hard at first--long weeknights with no games/concerts/conferences to attend--they swear that after that initial adjustment period there are loads of benefits, like: getting to know your spouse again, less laundry, cleaner house, and especially no more high-school-early alarm clocks. Plus, there will be time to pursue interests that were put on hold. Hmm…maybe I’ll join a book club, or learn to play an instrument. (Anybody have a nice, noisy drum set I can borrow?)

One EN friend pointed out that the bottom line is we’re sending our kids out into the world, and that’s what we raised them for. We’re doing our job, and that’s a good thing. But it’s still a little scary.

Any Empty Nesters out there with tips or advice for me?






Image by: Muffet




The Phone Call


I’d like to apologize for my lack of “real” blogging over the past month. I know I’ve had periods in the past where my blogging has been a bit lame, but I don’t believe I’ve ever gone this long with only “Quote of the Month” posts to share.

I do have an excuse, though. It’s a good one. And it goes like this:

One morning in early October our phone rang at 5:50 a.m. My hubby’s alarm went off at the same time, so in our confusion we didn’t realize the phone was ringing and missed the call. Dialing into our voicemail we heard the following message:

“Hi Holly & Chris, this is Ruth-Mom. I’m calling to see if Holly can come over to let the dog out this morning?”

Huh?

“By the way, I’m having chest pain and we just called 9-1-1, so we’re expecting an ambulance any time now.”

Really, mom? REALLY?! That’s how you let us know you’re having a HEART ATTACK!

Long story short, my mom ended up spending 21 days in the hospital.

She didn’t enjoy it.

She had a catheterization, some lovely complications, a triple bypass, some more lovely complications including them sticking a tube up her nose for nutritional purposes.


She didn’t enjoy that either.

Finally, she was given the A-ok to go…

To Rehab.

She didn’t enjoy that either.

She was in rehab for a little over a week when she tried to escape. Seems they wanted to move her to a new room. She didn’t want to move to a new room. She wanted to go home. They insisted she stay. When I got there I found her in her new room eating dinner in a huff. She told me she was so mad she walked “ALL THE WAY ACROSS THE HALL!” This was a record.

She stayed the night, but scammed negotiated her release within two days.

She’s finally home. Tired but happier.

Needless to say, my writing life (& especially my blogging life!) has suffered. I’m going to try really hard to get back into my regular ol’ blogging groove, but with the holidays coming, I know I'm in for a real challenge. Right now, I wish I was one of those really cool bloggers who plans ahead and writes posts months in advance. Alas, *sigh*, that’s not me. Yet!





Image by: Ju-x

Do’s & Don’ts for Parents of a College Freshman



I know for some parents, this commercial rings true. But we just sent our oldest off to start her third year of college last weekend, and as happens every year since she was a freshman, I’m feeling a little blue.

Of course, I’m not nearly as bad as I was her first year away. Freshman year was the WORST! Oh mama, was I ever a basket case! Older wiser parents assured me it would get better, but I didn’t believe them. How could this gaping hole in my heart ever go away? Surely, I would never be happy again.

But, believe it or not, those older, wiser parents were right. It did get better. Eventually. So, I figured maybe I’d share a few of my suggested “DO’s” and “DON’Ts” for those parents who have just, or are about to, deposit their firstborn into the college life and are now trying to adjust to daily life without them. Sooo, here goes…

DO appreciate how clean and lovely her bedroom looks and REMAINS when she’s not currently living in it.

DON’T dwell on how much you miss him. Get out. Have lunch with friends. Try something new. Laugh.

DO come up with little personal touches to let her know you’re thinking about her. Send random videos of the family dog doing something that always makes her smile. Figure out creative long-distance ways to share inside family jokes. Send care packages or good old-fashioned letters.

DON’T text him every five minutes to see how things are going. Try to hold off until at least every ten.

DO be prepared to participate in in-depth conversations at 12:30 a.m. on the one night you’re so exhausted you were planning to go to bed early. Even though she’s having fun on her new college adventure, there will still be those moments when she needs your comfort or advice—and she’ll need it NOW.

And whatever you do, DON’T listen to Owl City’s Vanilla Twilight! I know this is supposed to be a simple love song, but I it fits perfectly for a parent/child relationship as well. I know it’s tempting to click that play button down there, but step away from the blog. (If you simply can’t resist, however, make sure you have some tissues nearby.)


You will survive!

Your Unrecognized Awesomeness

So, my lovely author and blogging e-friend (yes, I just made that word up!) Heidi Willis recently wrote a post about this book titled, You Are Good at Things: A Checklist by Andy Selsberg. The author makes readers aware that we are all most likely suffering from “unrecognized awesomeness”! For example, perhaps…

* You have the uncanny ability to always notice when someone has gotten a new haircut.
* You can make the last half-ounce of toothpaste last for a month.
* You are an expert at remote controlling, or…
* You're a wizard at resisting the urge to eat all the cheese right after grating it.

According to this quirky book’s description, it offers “a celebration of all your secret skills and unheralded abilities. It calls attention to the way you're able to give your kids names that will never appear on key chains at gift shops, and cheers your talent for wrapping presents using very little tape. In your own way, you're a master, and the world should know it. Because let's face it: You are good at things!”

I was cracking up at the things Heidi and her commenters acknowledged they were good at, and thought to myself, “What the heck, my blog friends and I are good at stuff, too.”

So I’m totally ripping off her blog post topic!

For the record, I’d like to give Heidi full credit for the idea and encourage you all to visit her blog: And Also...because there's always something else to say. I truly enjoy her posts! And while I’m at it, I’ll give her terrific book another plug. Some Kind of Normal is a great read. If you haven’t bought it already, get it—it’s wonderful!

And now, let’s all share some things we’re good at. I’ll go first:

*  I’m good at stealing other people’s blog ideas and using them on my blog!

*  I’m good at reading manuals.

*  I’m gifted at not dusting.

*   I’m great at making dinners that cause the smoke alarm to go off.

*   I have a talent for staying up way too late every night. 


*   I’m good at having two-way conversations with my dog.

*   I’m good at interrupting people’s stories to ask questions and get more details.

*   I’m terrific at freaking out in crisis situations.

*   I’m amazingly good at procrastinating.

*   I’m wonderful at embarrassing my kids in public.

*   I’m good at making character voices when reading a story aloud.

My daughter told me I had to write this one:
*  I’m great at getting overly emotional about animals getting injured on film and in real life.

Okay, your turn!




Operation: Hijacking the Camera


Some of you may have read my post lamenting the fact that my hubby Chris bought a new camera and hasn't been sharing.

Well….

He went out of town! So I snagged it and started a little experimenting. I’ve only got a few days before soccer season starts in order to figure out how to take amazing pics. The new camera is a Sony SLT-A65V, and it’s actually the new-and-improved version of my old camera. So I’m already familiar with some of the buttons and functions. But there are quite a few new options that I’d never seen before. Like the Sweep Panorama!

To use it, you have to pan the camera in one direction as it snaps continuous shots of your scene, creating one panoramic image. I tried it first just holding the camera in my hands, but the end result was too blurry. So I attached the camera to our tripod and tried again.




Using my favorite free photo editing software, Picasa, I zoomed in and cropped it to see how clear the picture really was, and I was amazed!



Pretty crisp, right?


Now the most important function for me to be familiar with is taking continuous action shots. Unfortunately, I was home alone looking out on a very inactive backyard.


Hmmmm…where could I find a cooperative action model. Someone willing to work with me…




Okay, Oreo wasn’t exactly willing. But he said he’d humor me as long as he was paid well with treats.



I already knew this camera would take better action shots than my old one because the manual says it can record 10 images per second! I took Oreo into the backyard with me and told him to stay


COME!


(My daughter Ashleigh says he looks like a bunny here.)


Ooooh, the agony of running...





Now, this camera has a tracking feature I can activate. It automatically tracks the nearest subject to the screen. I decided to try it out, figuring the focus would be even sharper. Okay, Oreo. Come!








Yuck! They're so blurry! I wonder if I'm doing something wrong? I’ll have to investigate this more later.


Meanwhile, I moved on to testing the differences between the AUTO, AUTO+ and MACRO settings. When I think MACRO I think flowers. So I took three pictures, one with each setting, of my purple petunias (which despite our massive heat wave and my brown thumb, have continued to flourish). I honestly could not find any real difference in picture quality between them. 


AUTO


AUTO+



MACRO



But I found a HUGE difference in the quality of images I cropped. Here's the original shot I took of my mother-in-law's day lily:


And here it is zoomed in and cropped. Check out the awesome detail! It must be the higher pixels.


This will come in handy when I have to take shots further away from the action and I need to crop them later.


Overall, I’d say Operation: Hijacking the Camera has been a success. Saturday is the big day. The first soccer scrimmage of the season. Wish me luck with MY new camera! Bwa, ha, ha!

All Photographs © Holly Bowne

Motorcycle Mama


I’m not ready for this and I feel an eye twitch coming on.

It’s our first summer with both kids having jobs. When our oldest got her first job, we established a 50-50 rule. Fifty percent of each paycheck would be saved for college, the other 50% was theirs to divide between spending, personal savings goals and charity.

On a recent sunny afternoon, our newly employed, just-turned-18-yr.-old son Joshua casually said, “Guess what I’m going to use my 50% for, mom?”

“What?” I asked, only partially listening.

“A motorcycle!”

“What?!” He had my full attention now. “Noooooo, Josh! You’re---you---you can’t… You’re only eighteen!” I sputtered.

He arched a brow.

“You haven’t been driving long enough.”

He raised his other brow.

“It’s too dangerous.” I shook my head. “You could have an accident and die!”

“Mom,” he said calmly. “You’ve always said, if your number is up, it’s up. So if I’m meant to die in a motorcycle accident, then that’s the way it will be.”

AAAARRRRGHHH! Why…WHY do our children throw our own words back in our faces this way!

“All right. That does it. I’m telling!” I stormed out of the room in search of his father.

“Chris!” I said, finding him working on his laptop in the family room. “Do you know what your son just told me?”  And I informed him of Joshua’s completely scary proposal.

I should have known better.

I finished speaking and noticed an eerie light glowing behind his green eyes. Turning back to his laptop, his fingers flew over the keyboard for a moment. Then without a word, he picked up the computer and went to find Josh, me trailing in his wake.

“Hey buddy?”

“Yeah, dad?”

“Mom just told me what you want to do.” Chris sat the laptop down in front of Josh. “I just found this motorcycle safety class we can take together next month.”

“What?!” I shrieked over Joshua’s “Cool!”

“You’re helping him?”

What is it about boys and motorcycles? Chris didn’t even have the grace to look sheepish! Within days they’d both purchased helmets, gloves and Josh bought some sort of armored motorcycle jacket to wear.



Here is Chris (not Josh!) wearing his helmet in order to get used to it while they watched T.V. together. Ugh!



A couple of weekends ago, they finished the intense safety course. Enduring 90 to 100-degree temps wearing full regalia, they put in twenty-four hours of skills training and testing plus an hour-long written exam requiring a minimum score of 80% to pass.

I must confess, I was proud when I learned that with each phase of training, people dropped or got knocked out, but both my boys made it through. (There was even a guy who’d been riding motorcycles for over 30 years who failed the course!)

But now…NOW they’ve each obtained their official motorcycle licenses, and Josh is using his free time everyday to scour the web for used motorcycles.

Yesterday, I observed him as he sat hunched over the laptop. “So Josh, do you think you could give the same passion and intensity to--”

“Nope!” He answered without looking up from the screen.

“How did you know what I was gonna say?”

“Because I know you, mom!”

“Well, I’m just thinking if you gave that same intensity to your homework—”

“Mooooom!”

 “Gee, it’s only college. Your future.  Your life. Nothing compared to a motorcycle.” I grumbled.

“Yup.” He grinned, still not looking at me.

Brat.

I definitely feel an eye twitch coming on.




Motorcycle Image by: Time_Anchor

College Kids, Carousing & Curfews, Oh My!


My hubby Chris and I attended a graduation party last weekend. We found ourselves in a conversation with another parent about the readjustment process we all go through when our college kids return home for the summer. Amid our discussion about the delights of once again witnessing freshly messed-up bedrooms, tripping over even more pairs of shoes, etc., the woman we were speaking with commented, “One thing that’s hard is enforcing the curfew, isn’t it? Especially since they’re used to doing their own thing up at school.”

Chris and I exchanged glances of surprise.

I wrote a post a few years back on the whole curfew topic. But for those of you who weren’t following the ol’ blog back then, let me sum up the way Chris and I have chosen to handle curfews for our older teens (as in 17-yrs. old) and up:

We don’t set any.

We’re awful parents, right? Ha, ha!

Instead of issuing a curfew directive, we would have a discussion with our teen before they went out somewhere for the evening. We’d talk about what they had going on the next day, what time they felt they needed to be up in the morning, and how much sleep they thought they needed. Then we’d ask them to give us a time they felt was reasonable for returning that night.

Our oldest daughter Ashleigh hated this! “Just give me a time!” she’d wail.

But Chris and I have always felt our job as parents of teens is one of preparation. We’re preparing our kids for full-blown adulthood.  Truly, it didn’t take long for Ashleigh to get the hang of it. And by the time she started her freshman year of college, she was totally responsible: Going to bed by 9:00 p.m. every night in order to be fresh and alert for her classes the following day.

Yeah, okay. Just kidding.

Seriously though, I think it’s easy to fall into a pattern of dictating rules to our kids, just as we did when they were younger and we had all the control. But really, isn’t our job as parents a strategic process of relinquishing that control. And hopefully, by guiding our kids to think things through the way we have, those skills will be well established once they’re on their own.

I’m not saying it’s always easy! I’m sure both our kids will testify that we’re not always successful at sticking to the “guidance only” part. But we recognize that in the long run, they need to think for themselves. Our kids are now 17 and 20, and so far neither of them has ever let us down in terms of setting a time to be home, and honoring that time.

As I was sharing the “curfew conversation” with my oldest, home from her sophomore year of college, I was further surprised when she told me she actually has friends--plural--the same age she is, whose parents still dictate curfews. This seems so strange to me!  For the majority of the year, their kid could be out at all hours of the night, and they wouldn’t have a clue. But now that they’re back home, this 20-yr. old needs to be in the house by 11:00 p.m.?

So now I’m curious. I would love to hear thoughts on this from other parents. Is my philosophy on this totally off base? And if there are any parents of teens & twenties who do enforce a curfew, I’d love it if you shared your reasoning behind it.

What say you, fellow parents?