Wild + Free

Growing up, my family didn’t own a TV.

Well, that’s not entirely true. Every time a friend or family member heard we didn’t own one, they grew sympathetic and we somehow ended up inheriting one of their old ones (we received units that ranged from antique black-and-white models, to handheld units that could be seen from only a few feet away, to upgraded color editions that required walking to the unit to change the channels). Playing with a “new” gadget for a while was a thrill. But as time went by, the TV somehow found a new home (or eternal resting place, as the case may be), and life moved on screen-free.

At the time, not having a TV didn’t seem like a radical notion. After all, our lack of electronic entertainment wasn’t motivated by a stringent conviction, nor was it a means to buck the system for the sake of being unconventional. For a while, it just was what it was. My parents were busy, and my brother and I were relatively content to play with one another and the neighbor kids—so, as the saying goes, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." Later, a TV would take up permanent residence in our home. But by then, a lot of habits had been established, one for which I’m hugely grateful:  a childhood rich in time spent outdoors.

Most of my childhood memories are from outside. I spent countless hours in my mom’s huge garden. My brother and I eventually “earned” our own rows in which we were allowed to plant whatever we wanted, so long as we cared for it—watering, fertilizing and picking out each pesky weed. We felt like big stuff, but I’m sure my mom considered it a win on her end as we were so busy picking “buried treasure” (root vegetables) we had no time to accidentally trample on her own harvest.

Then there were all of the neighborhood escapades. Many a summer, my dad would break out a box of industrial trash bags, a bottle of Dawn dish soap and the hose, making what he referred to as his hillbilly rendition of the Slip ’N Slide. Yards of black plastic lay in wait, lathered in soapy foam and a steady stream of ice-cold hose water. It wasn’t long before a gaggle of children stood in line, eagerly awaiting their turn to glide from our front yard into the next one.

In spring and fall with windows cracked open, my mom would cook supper to the steady cadence of bikes furiously zipping around the driveway, with the occasional kerplunk of a child biker brave enough to whizz off the homemade ramp at the end. And despite winter’s icy chill, my siblings and I would inevitably break out in a sweat as we industriously packed snow in an effort to make an even better snow fort than we had attempted the previous year.

Interestingly, my parents wouldn’t call themselves outdoorsy people. As a family, we never camped. We never went to national parks or hiked local trails. We lived on a standard sized lot plopped in the middle of suburbia, so with the exception of my mom’s garden, no homesteading or animal husbandry took place. Yet, looking back, most of the ways we bonded were through time in nature (even if much of that nature was enjoyed from within the boundary lines of our own yard!).

Prioritizing adventures outside has not gotten any easier for families living in a digital age. As any modern parent can tell you, a TV isn’t the only thing that beckons for a kid’s attention. The chime of a phone at every notification, a ping on the tablet or computer for every update, and the alluring soundtrack underscoring a video game quest are siren calls of the virtual world. The figurative and literal noise from screens can easily drown out the quiet calls of nature’s invitation if we’re not careful. It’s almost ironic that creating a simple and carefree environment can be hard work in a world that’s so stimulated and complex.

We often scoff at how tech-dependent kids are these days, but getting outside and refusing to be tethered to an internet connection is often every bit as hard for adults as it is for kids. One of the best ways to initiate getting out into nature more starts by setting healthy parameters on screen usage within your own four walls. By turning notifications off, taking regular breaks and hiding the phone away during dinnertime or family conversations, parents proclaim with our actions that what’s in front of us is more important that what’s going on elsewhere.

Getting out in nature offers a myriad of benefits for mental, emotional and physical health. But, unlike taking a vitamin, being outdoors is fun. If you’re wondering how to prioritize time outside as a family, start with this: Treat it as something you get to do, not have to do. Here’s what local moms say helps them prioritize getting out in nature as family more:

Jess Reyes, a mom from Independence, says for her family it is all about taking baby steps. “I started small.” she says. “With a toddler and an infant, it was hard to find the motivation, but I knew we needed to get out. Five minutes one day, 15 the next; in no time we were spending HOURS outside having picnics, reading books, swinging, exploring, creating mud pits and going on walks around our own block. We now get antsy if only a day or two goes by without some part of the day spent outside!”

For Pleasant Hill mom Emily Olomiye, it’s all about remembering to keep it simple. “You don’t have to plan anything or go anywhere or do anything special,” she says. “If you take children outside and just go sit in the grass, nature exploration will just come!” KC mom Brenda Rader agrees: “Sometimes it’s as easy as just eating your breakfast or lunch outside somewhere, even if in your own backyard!”

Lisa Scheker of Lee’s Summit finds just the ticket for helping her husband value time outdoors as much as she does. “I always ask for camping or hikes with my husband and kids on my birthday and Mother's Day. Then he sees how fun they can be, and now we are outside a lot more often than we used to be!”

Lauren Greenlee is a mom of three hailing from Olathe. Her favorite outdoor activities include hitting the local trails, scouting out the best new parks and geocaching with her motley crew.