I loved my childhood and I thank my Mom for that. I was an only child of a wild, hippy artist type who married a regimented Swiss business man. We ignored him because he was cranky but Mom sure showed me all the wonders of the world through the eyes of a free spirited artist. She made my childhood wonderful.
I had lots of fun playing outside without parental supervision. I made up all sorts of wild stories and made my sister act them out, whether she wanted to or not. We had beautiful elm trees in front of our house.
Oh, I was heartbroken when those elm trees were cut down. They were afflicted by Dutch Elm disease.
Trees have always been special to me. Now, I worry about the emerald ash borer.
School was another story. It was very difficult and draining for me. The other kids bullied me. I had trouble understanding the teacher. Every noise in the school sounded amplified. I stared longingly out the window. I was overstimulated and bored at the same time. My parents were told that I was "emotionally disturbed." I thought that I was being punished by being sent to all of those professionals who did not help me. They and the other kids just called me names.
No one knew what auditory processing disorder was back then. Despite the adults' cluelessness, they had all sorts of names and judgments for me.
I'm noat sure if schools are any better for kids now.
I was born in 1949 so grew up in the 1950s and most of the 1960s. On the whole I loved my childhood. Life was simpler without modern communication and information technology. I played outside more than children do now.
We would play outdoors all day long and never even check in (except for lunch).
We would have ball games, at times we were in someone's backyard
building forts or clubhouses, sometimes we were riding bikes or roller skating.
In Southern California our generation built the original skateboards we called scoboes (pronounced sko-bo). We made them at home using a piece
of 2 x 4 and attaching an old metal shoe skate we pulled apart --- half on the
front of the board and the other half on the rear.
Believe it or not, we would fly down some pretty chilling hills on our homemade
scoboes. Eventually a lot of guys began making them in wood shop as a
During summers schools would open the playgrounds for summer activity.
We would have huge games of dodge ball (we used to call it bombardment)
that would last for five and six hours. We also played softball, carroms
and kickball, which was like softball but with a volleyball.
In kickball, you kicked the ball which was rolled down a line from the pitcher's
box to home plate. You could ask for a slow pitch or a fast pitch; rolled or
bounced. My favorite pitch was always "fast baby bouncies." The game also
called for the team in the field to throw the ball at the runners as they ran
between the bases in order to get the runners out.
By far the majority of my childhood memories involve playing out of doors. We
would literally stay out until it started getting dark and our moms would call us
to come home.
I mostly did. I grew up in the late 60s/early 70s (still not sure why my birthdate qualifies as a "boomer"), in a suburb of Indianapolis, near the motor speedway. The homelife was quite structured, but humorous and loving. Mom was the disciplinarian, never Dad. We were allowed an insane amount of unsupervised freedom (an of course, no cell phones for mom to use to keep tabs on us). We played with the other kids in the neighborhood until the sun set, which in summer was pretty darned late.
I also recall Sunday nights were for dining at the grandparents' house and for watching "World of Disney" because grand dad had a COLOR TV.
It was not all rosey. I was bullied at school, possibly due to that same grandpa being principal (either that or my curve breaking grades), but I turned out ok.
I was a sickly child. I had abdominal surgeries to correct congenital problems. I had asthma and severe allergies to animals, tree nuts, and pretty much everything that blooms. I still do but the seasonal allergies have got better since I turned 50. But overall, my childhood was pretty idyllic. When I was sick, I stayed indoors and played music or read. When I felt good, I played outdoors. My parents put me on skis when I was 4 and I knew right away this would be my principal focus for the rest of my life. My dad told me, you are not the only person who has ever had asthma. Deal with it and do your own thing. Don't let anybody tell you that you can't do something. My mom could do absolutely anything. She was a doctor, a concert pianist, and the best athlete I ever saw. She could beat all six of her sons one on one in basketball until she decided it would be too damaging to our fragile male egos to be beaten by our mom and then she started letting us win. I think I was 14 of 15 and I knew she could still take me but she didn't try as hard. She was an avid skier and whitewater kayaker and when she died we buried her with her favorite paddle. She taught me how to backpack, how to mount and tune my own skis, how to tie knots, how to throw a curve ball, how to fix anything with hand tools, how to read music, and how to find the beauty in every moment. So music, exploration, and outdoor sports were constants in my childhood. I didn't always do well in school and was socially awkward with people I didn't know well. But with the other families who were into outdoor sports and skied or swam or hiked with us, I was a normal kid. Despite being sick a lot, I had a happy and very privileged childhood.
Yes and No to this question. My parents were not sociable people, so I grew up not knowing how to socialize. There never any friends come round to visit and we hardly saw or relatives. So I never got to know my cousins, plus there was a language barrier. My father was Afrikaans speaking and my mother English. There was a huge hate for the English by the Afrikaans people because of the Anglo- Boer wars and the treatment the Afrikaans woman and children got in concentration camps. So living in an Afrikaans speaking town was a nightmare. But the yes side, well it was the holidays that I enjoyed. My parents took the two of us to different places in South Africa and I got to see my country.
I thought my childhood was wonderful. My siblings disagree, however. I'm not sure I would want to go back, but sometimes I wish I could. I miss my mom and dad. When my father retired we went on a summer long journey from Lacey, WA to Yellowstone, Wall Drug, Mt. Rushmore, Niagra Falls, Bugs Island, VA, and San Antonio, TX. A family version of Travels With Charlie.
I have extraordinarily few negative recollections from my childhood... those that exist were mainly due to my introverted/ISTJ nature, not because of any great family conflicts. I remember always dreading the first day of a new school year (which typically faded rather quickly as I got "the lay of the land" figured out. I also remember always having an intense dislike for using the telephone (still do!), which my ESTJ father never could understand and tried to break me of by making me call 411 for information (pre-internet days, of course) and then calling the store/office/etc. to make some inquiry. Damn, I HATED that!... but it really was the extent of our conflict, though.
There are some things about my childhood that others often assume were negatives (my ESFJ wife, in particular) that I never saw as such. Summer vacations rarely involved great pleasure trips... more often than not vacation time meant helping my father complete projects around the house. My wife (who grew up with elaborately planned vacation trips) thinks this was an awful way to grow up, but I rather enjoyed it. I spent a lot of quality time with my dad (we always have and still do get along well) and got to learn a lot of skills that have proven useful in my life.
mine was mixed
grew up in a resort town on lake ontario
water skiing, scuba diving, swimming
winter came- skating, cross country/down hill skiing, hockey
dirt bikes which was year round
i would take my dirt bike [73 honda cb 350 2 cylinder w volkswagen drilled out muff's] onto the frozen bay and terrorize
the ice fisherman. in the summer/fall terrorize the migrants in the orchards
spent the summer of 73 filling sand bags when the lake flooded
then helped me pappy fill in the basement w 150 yards of top soil
through those stupid little basement windows with spades
i also dug sewer lines by hand when the village decided to put in public sewers
mowed lawns, helped my pappy [he is a remodeler] i was the neighborhood bitch
when people needed dirty work the would hire me, for slave wages of course
i always enjoyed it
my parents were going through a divorce at the time
spent a lot of time with my evil grand mum
developed petit mall epilepsy between the ages of 12-14
totally went away after that
puberty was a bitch
my brother [the dick] is 7 years older then me had left the house at 17
never really knew him
my sister 2 years older then me was doing her thing when she wasn't running away from home
Strictly a mixed bag. Before being forced to attend school things were great. Awoke in the morning when I pleased, watched cartoons until they ended, then played outside. Then came school which at first was a novelty. When it dawned on me that school was a permanent arrangement for years and years, I rebelled and wanted to stay home. Watching cartoons and having no commitments was my idea of the good life. Going to school was forced on me and I didn't like being forced to do anything. It was socialized bullying.
School, education, the war, the army, then work etc., etc., always demands on my time. Now its retirement and I watch what I want, if I want, when I want. I built up a collection of old monster, horror and science fiction movies like I watched as a kid. Now Frankenstein and I are on a first name basis. And with HD, it's a blast.
That is not all of childhood, of course, but it's a start.