Today, Elijah heard a siren and right after he said, "Wooooo Wooooo." It was so precious. He was communicating with me, and every new opportunity to communicate with my son is a gift. After working with parents for years and teaching communication with children, my own son's first attempts at communicating with me are priceless.
But it also made me a little sad. He was, after all, repeating a sound he hears on at least a daily, if not hourly, basis since he was born. The sound of the great LBC. The place we call home. A 700-square foot condo that we own with absolutely NO outdoor space to call ours. No balcony, no porch, and definitely no yard.
For such a long time, the ideal that I have held for children and childhood and myself has been a meadow full of climbing trees, with a stream running through it. I picture a tree house, a few chickens, and maybe even a goat. I worked hard to create this at the preschool. A tried to create a haven away from the city life, away from even suburban life, for the children to just be.
And now I have my own child and he is growing so fast. To steal some words from Tom Hunter, "What will he remember from the time he was a child?" Where can he play free, run, climb, jump, and explore? Where can he do this without the fear of polluted water? Where can he hear the birds chirp and the grass rustle rather than the sirens blare? Where can he dig without finding cigarette butts and trash? Where can we be outdoors without long car rides?
Of all the things I want for my child, nature is among the most important. Does this mean I sacrifice being close to my friends and family, and those who know me best? Do I sacrifice diversity, progressive thinking, and like-minded people?
I guess time will only tell. The problem is he is growing up now...
Woooooooo Wooooooo
