Over the last few weeks, as we’ve discussed our move to Florida with other parents, the inevitable comment – other than the “oh  there’s no state income tax there” or “oh, the cost of living must be much lower there” – has been “think of us when it’s October and you’re outside playing and we’re stuck at home.”

I grew up in the Deep South. Winter meant jackets, not heavy coats, and snow meant a dusting and a nuclear-war level alert by the local school districts.  A half inch of snow meant weeping mothers, runs on canned foods at the supermarket and preparations for the breakdown of society.  As kids, snow wasn’t really much of a factor one way or another for us.  Life was the hot season and everything else.

Yet I’ve spent three winters with a child in the northeast and learned that the seasons of a childhood here are the outdoor season and the indoor season. This year, we had a long indoor season.  When I lost my last consulting contract, we were faced with an odd prospect – Papa was going to be home all winter but we had to watch money because we had no income coming in.

I count myself lucky. My wife and I, despite having many differences of opinion on money, have aggressively saved against a day such as…well, these days.  The long cold winter wasn’t filled with trips to Disneyland but it wasn’t filled with Ramen noodles and sweaters-versus-50-degree-thermometers, either.  We had the means to prepare.

But at the same time, I had a long winter not working – unless you count blogging as work – to think about what made a happy childhood and one of the recurring thoughts I had was that outdoor time was precious. I’m not sure about my daughter yet, but my son appears to rocket into full form when he’s outdoors.  He seems happiest outside.  He seemed restricted and bored indoors throughout the winter, and once a mild spring/summer (whatever this miserable pseud0-season is here in New Jersey) arrived, he launched outdoors with a vengeance. His childhood – at this early stage – could appear to be defined by the ratio of indoor to outdoor time.

I know some people will wax nostalgic about snowmen, or snowballs, or mulled tea. Not me.  For me, a happy childhood – and to some extent, a happy adulthood – are directly proportional to warm days.  Wish me luck as I seek to prove this theory. 

photo credit: chantrybee

A life lesson, using a child as an example:  when my son was born, we were good parents. When he cried, we ran to him.  We rocked him, sang him comforting songs in English and Russian.  We gave him milk to get him to sleep.  We slept in the room with him. We still do.  He sleeps in fits and spurts.  He’s a great kid, but his sleep patterns are erratic.

When my daughter was born, we were good parents. When she cried, we waited.  We rocked her sometimes, but put her down at the first sign of drowsiness.  We sang to her when she was awake, but never to put her to sleep.  We gave her milk sometimes, but often put her to sleep long after milk.  We never stay in the room with her.  She sleeps through the night occasionally – something we never could have imagined with my son at her age, or even now.

The life lesson?  Constant attention is not always the answer.

1.  Your spouse does not need your constant attention. People are individuals.  When you get married, you are not a cyborg unit, a fusion of male and female (or otherwise, depending on your state’s legal system).  You are two individuals who love each other.  Back off a bit sometimes.

2.  Children need to grow and explore – and here’s the shocker, they don’t need you ALL THE TIME. I thought I had to entertain my son 24/7.  He’s a brilliant boy (I’m an objective observer) but he’s highly dependent on interaction.  Maybe that means he’s going to be president in 2044.  Who knows?  But my daughter already shows independence and the ability to entertain herself.  One of the keys to life is to be happy with yourself, and although that can come from interacting with others or from spending time alone, kids do need to develop the alone-time skill first.

3.  Work does not require constant attention. Back off a bit.  Have a life away from work.  Don’t think that your company will fail without you.  It will not.  I promise you.  Try it – stay home for a day and turn off the phone and email.  It will still be there tomorrow.

4.  Money will wait. If your finances are great – or shoddy – they will not change drastically if you look at every penny or if you let slide a few dollars.  Make an overall guiding philosophy, then let the small things slide.  Constant attention to every expenditure in your life is not necessary.

The term “accidental parenting” applies to a lot of decisions made by parents – overindulgence in one area creates problems later in life. “Accidental life planning” or “accidental money planning” would be equally apt terms.  I’ve always found it amusing that I’m considered one of the most draconian and strict parents in my neighborhood.  I don’t view myself that way, and according to most of the parenting books I read we are on the lax end of the scale.

The most important thing to learn is that nobody benefits from being treated like a baby, not even babies. Not friends, not family, not kids, not parents.  Our financial, social, intellectual and spiritual lives don’t need to be treated like babies, either.  Push your kids and your own limits and you’ll all benefit.  Push yourself and limits won’t matter.