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When we were kids, playing outside and running around were pretty much the only things we ever wanted to do. My brother, sister and I and all the neighborhood kids would ride our bikes around the church parking lot and build ramps and play hide-and-seek. We made a fort out of an old hollowed-out pine tree where we spent most of our time mixing batches of pine needles that we pretended were noodles and serving them to our make-believe spouses and children on maple-tree leaves. We didn’t have to have a toy to entertain us or a video game to play to keep us busy; we used our minds, our imaginations, and we utilized that energy that you are so blessed to have as a child; we ran and jumped and played until we heard our mother yell for dinner. And even then we usually shouted something back like “Aww Mom, five more minutes.” I am not old enough to say that there was not the option of video games back then, or movies my mother could have popped in for us to watch and let the TV be our babysitter, but she and my father knew the importance of nurturing at an early age those activities that kept kids active and using our imaginations.
My pastor uses a great analogy about children: they are like wet lumps of clay on which we have only so long to write on the tablet of who they will become or to help mold and instill in them things that they will be able to reach back and find useful, years down the road. We are changing who they will be and what they will know. I take this, not only as a spiritual obligation that parents of faith share, but also as a physical one—starting our children out with a fighting chance to take control of their health and their bodies. Raising my own daughter now, I am trying to do the same things that my parents did. I will admit, though, that I use the TV and DVD player way more often then my parents did. It is something I work on, but life gets busy and with Bella not having a sibling I can send her off to play with, when Mom needs a break, I call on a good ol’ episode of “iCarly” to give me 30 minutes to myself. That’s not a bad thing from time to time. The problem is that today, our lives are so hectic and so fast paced that our children are paying for it—we are stealing from them what my parents fortunately did not steal from me. We are cramming burgers and fries and milkshakes down their throats because that is all we have time to swing through and get for them. We are too busy inside the house trying to work or get things done, and rather than be “irresponsible” and send them outside to play by themselves, we sit them down in front of a TV show and give them an ice cream cone to cover our guilt for not finding time to take them to the park. It saddens my heart to see all of the overweight children walking around having to battle something for the rest of their lives that they are ill-equipped to fight against.
I meant to keep this advice on the light side, but I wanted to take this opportunity to remind parents and even grandparents what it was like when they were kids. If your parents started you on a path of being healthy and active, think about how grateful you are—and what a great gift to pass on to your children. If they didn’t think about what a stumbling block poor eating habits could be, is it really something you would want your kids to have to face and fight for the rest of their lives? It’s not too late; the clay is not too hard yet. Take them to the park, pack them an apple, take family walks at night to spend time together away from the couch. As important as it is for us to teach our children the value of songs like “I Am a Promise,” it’s equally important to teach them to love themselves so that the song speaks a truth in all aspects of their lives.
