I have to go constantly check on the dog when she's in the yard or tied up out front. Or if she's inside, but it's just too quiet.

IOW, I have no idea how people with actual children manage.

This makes me think of parents who send their kids outside to play, while they're inside cleaning/napping/screwing the pool boy/whatever.

I don't even let my dog out in the yard by himself. Seriously. If he had opposable thumbs? Grafted vine from my belly to his neck...no need for a leash!

He's never out of my sight (after that creepy guy on the street told me "You know they steal dogs like that." on my second day of having him). If I had an actual kid I think I'd trump David's inner Jason Bourne with paranoid strategy and a padded hamster ball. No lie.

eta: Ha! Thanks for the xpost. I'm not alone!

Does that ease up with age? I mean, I wouldn't let my 4-year-old play outside without me also being outside, but what about when they're 9 or 10?

Oh yeah. Like, I said I let the leash out slowly. I really don't think I was over-protective. But my notion of safe was to always keep the unlikely bad scenario over in the extremely improbable range.

For example, as Emmett got older I did not insert myself between him and the street constantly. I'd let him run ahead of me to a corner - but I'd make sure I could still outrun him and get there first if I had to. I let him feel like he had more freedom than he really did. Until such time as it was clear that he really really understood not going into the street. But I never worried about a car losing control and coming up over the curb. Which certainly happens, but that's already in the highly improbable range.

I'm also big on Don't Carry Anything Hot Heavy Or Sharp Over The Baby's Head. Because, people drop things. You spill your coffee in the kitchen and it's not big deal. You spill your hot coffee on your baby's face and that's plastic surgery.

Oh Beej, no need to apologize. I didn't take it that way at all. It's just a complex and weird situation. Thanks for the kind words.

sigh of relief

It sounds rough. But I'm guessing there are upsides too. Which makes the downsides so much more...down. Life would be so much easier if 'black and white' was actually that. Sometimes there is so much grey...

I'm trying to remember how old I was when I was allowed to just head out the back door with the dog and the entire world in front of me and my mother saying "Don't be long!" That was in rural Pennsylvania in the '60s, though, on our own land, so maybe that's the difference. Still, during middle school, everyone I know pretty much ran around loose with "Be back for dinner!" following them.

I'm also big on Don't Carry Anything Hot Heavy Or Sharp Over The Baby's Head.

Dude. Do people DO that? Is that before or after they let the baby play with the alligators and razor wire?

Don't Carry Anything Hot Heavy Or Sharp

When I was about 8, a neighbor jokingly said, 'here hold this' with a red hot soldering iron. 'Being the obedient kid, I took it. Lordy that was bad! Major burns...but since hands slough so much skin, I didn't come away with a permanent scar. I can't say that for the dude with the broken sense of humor. I'm pretty sure he had nightmares after that.

The only other injury I sustained on my own was climbing over a brick wall that had broken glass on the top. I remember very clearly (I think I was 6) believing with all my heart that I could press my hands on the glass but I would not be hurt. Illusion shattered.

I have no idea where that notion of invulnerability came from. I blame Dark Shadows.

Do people DO that? Is that before or after they let the baby play with the alligators and razor wire?

When I was about 8, a neighbor jokingly said, 'here hold this' with a red hot soldering iron.

See the stupidity?

When I was growing up, a father took his 8 y.o. kid to the Serpentarium and set his boy up on the edge of the crocodile pit. Yeah, worst cast scenario happened.

Huh. Kristin, I'm on the other side of that. Granted, our situations were totally different, but now that I'm not responding at all, he's apparently asked friends to pass on well-wishes (which have either been met with silence or furious emails, depending on said friends). The hurt is just so great (and now that I'm dealing with another new!fun!hurt) that I just can't.

Which isn't meant to make you feel worse. It sucks on all ends. It really does.

Still, during middle school, everyone I know pretty much ran around loose with "Be back for dinner!" following them

We had to come home when the streetlights came on.