We’re becoming first-time parents in about a month. Also, we had a party Saturday with many adults and a few kids, one of whom is a seven-year-old boy. He and his parents (and a couple of other people) also stayed the night at our house, as we’d planned on having them do, since they came from two or three hours away. His parents are good friends of ours. I know they’re smart, good people, and I’d thought they were pretty good parents, too.
At least four times that I saw and a few more that I heard about from his mom or his cousin, this kid opened doors to closed-off rooms, looked in drawers, picked up and handled and carried around stuff (including fragile items), investigated my nightstand, pulled (child-inappropriate) books off a bookshelf in our bedroom and started to read them, etc. His mom was usually nearby, saying things like “You can’t just go around opening doors/picking up people’s things like that, honey. How would you like it if someone went in *your *room and did that to *your *things?” but didn’t actually stop him the first half-dozen times. Whenever he wasn’t actively playing with someone or something else – running around outside with the other kids, having a book read to him, etc. – he was ready to get into something of ours.
At one point, when he started getting tired and cranky, I told his mom that I thought I had some toy foam blocks in a box somewhere in the basement and that I’d go look for them. The kid declared he’d help me look. I said no, I’m sorry, you can’t go in the basement, it’s too dangerous a place for kids (I’d shattered a glass jam jar down there earlier this week, by dropping it on the deteriorating concrete floor, and know there are spilled nails on the floor as well as saw blades hanging from the rafters and probably puddles of festering cat pee and Og knows what all else, not to mention pointy tools and breakable things and chemicals and other stuff he could get into since he obviously can’t keep his hands to himself). He followed me down there anyway, so quietly that I didn’t realize he was there until he spoke up, and declared, looking around himself with all the scorn a seven-year-old can manage, “What’s so ‘dangerous’ about this?!” with his hands on his hips. Standing there in his bare feet. I had to bodily herd him back upstairs.
This is behavior I’d expect from a three-year old, and probably not be surprised by from a five-year-old, but from a seven-year-old? :eek:
So, parents, does this sound as out-of-line to you as it seemed to me? How did you teach your kids boundaries about other peoples’ stuff? Or your own grown-up stuff? How old were they at various stages of accepting this sort of thing? I know some kids learn some lessons faster than other kids and other lessons, and that parenting style and persistence makes a big but variable amount of difference, and am curious to hear anecdotes.