Free Range Kids. There's no stopping me.

I've embraced the Free Range Kids mantra like I have no kid-cares in the world! (I'll pepper this post with completely unrelated photos, because some of us are more visual.)

Well, sort-of. Child 2's school has declared that the dangerous school hats are to be tie-free. That is, the hat-tie that tightens under the chin had to be cut off. This was announced as a safety measure. Seems children were being strangled left-right-and-centre by their hat ties.

 Witchy-poop in the garden.

The safety precaution was announced the day after I bought a brand new school hat for Child 2, so the last thing I wanted to do was to take to it with scissors.

Child Two has been saying for months that he's the only child in Prep who still has the ties on his hat. I said, "I'm sticking it to the man! And leaving the ties on! Name me one child who has died as a result of hat-ties".

 Bongo the Bunyip making his move on a squeaky Squirrel creature.

That was my stance until yesterday, when Child 2 said the peer pressure to cut his hat ties was too much. If I wasn't going to do it, he was. And if there is going to be a hat-tie-related accident it would be because my five-year-old was waving sewing scissors about.

It's been raining a bit lately, and the evening skies have been lovely.

So, I buckled and cut the hat ties. Dammit.

My other Free Range Kid moment was today! I had to drop some stuff at the local Op Shop. I went in first with Child 4 on my hip to see if I could find the Score of the Century. Unfortunately, I didn't.

We've been cleaning lots of old Strawberry Shortcake dolls that my sister and I had.

I did find a Sesame Street placemat that my brother would have loved because he had the same one when he was younger, but it was 20c and I had no money. I didn't realise that about Op Shops ... everything is pretty darn cheap, and they don't take Mr Mastercard.

 They're all dressed now. I had to wash them with dish-washing liquid 

and shampoo and blow-dry their hair.

Anyway, I said to the old ladies that I had some stuff in the car across the road for them. They said, "Can we help?" I gulped and said, "You know, the biggest help would be if you held the baby while I go to the car and get the stuff."

One of the ladies didn't bat-an-eyelid and said, 'Okay'. So I handed Child 4 over and I went outside, and crossed the street, and opened the boot, and scooped up the three bags of Thomas the Tank Engine clothes et al. and I shut the boot, and crossed the road, and went back into the shop.

 Noodle's medication has halted his old-man cough, which has made us all feel better.

All the while, three old ladies were in a bailment relationship with Child 4.

And you know, they didn't sell her, they didn't chop her into pieces and put her in the freezer, they didn't drop her or teach her to swear, they sat her on the counter and tied her shoelaces!

This is a Monchichi from the Dos Family blog ... the sweet lady from Konfettiform told me what they were called because I really like them and wanted to know. I see them quite often on these northern European blogs, and though Child 4 may like one.

I felt very proud of myself ... of course I won't hand Child 4 to just anyone ... but last week I wouldn't have handed her to a shopkeeper to mind for less than a minute. My decision to do so today was very freeing.

And then I realised I've had a Monchichi all along! Since I was in pre-school. So we're talking 34 years! How stupid am I? So I took a photo just like the DosFamily blog, because I'm a shameless copycat!

Fin.