Traveling in the golden age of childhood

Image by kaydee did via Flickr

I’ve often heard people say that the ages between 8 and 12 are the golden age of childhood, at least from the parent’s perspective. Here’s how I know it’s true:

1. We’re leaving for Cape Cod tomorrow and because I had to work today, I left my children with a list of what to pack. And they packed themselves. If they discover the day after tomorrow that they have forgotten flip-flops or their favorite bathing suit, it is their problem. (If they discover they have forgotten a toothbrush, I suppose the problem is mine.)

2. We’re going away for 10 days and my boys are genuinely excited to be going. With us. On a family vacation. With no internet access. Rumor has it that teens wouldn’t be quite so eager.

3. Along with the dog’s stuff and the bicycles, the car is loaded with fishing rods, baseball gloves and bats and a kayak on the roof, but there are no sippy cups, Gold Fish crackers, swim diapers, strollers, crayons, magnetic toys, teddy bears or security blankets.

4. When I came home from work, my younger son, having cleaned out the car with his brother, was showering “just because I felt like it.” This is a child who once responded to a request to take a bath with “but why? I’m just going to get all filthy again tomorrow.”

5.  They want to stop at my alma mater on the way to the Cape to run around the green and have a look in a lecture hall. The notion that visiting a college may someday be anxiety producing  has never occurred to them.

6. They are brimming with plans for what they want to do during the next 10 days: fishing, swimming, bike riding, a Cape Cod League baseball game, boogy boarding, the Drive-In and on and on. There is nothing they aren’t passionate about, except the five-hour car drive to get this party started.

I’ve written a lot about worrying about my kids. I’ve written about them driving me nuts. But lately I’ve just been enjoying this post-baby, pre-adolescent phase of life. These kids are damned good company.