When I think back to things we were allowed to do, or just did without asking, I am in complete disbeleif. It wasn't because my parents were neglectful, or stupid. My mom is the Queen of all Worry Warts. We were shown how to do something, and then told every single consequence of what could happen if you do it wrong and stories of people she had know that had done it wrong and suffered the terrible consequence. We had pellet guns, knives, built forts in the back bush, cooked breakfast, lunch, snacks, supper, on campfires we started ourselves.Camped with friends in tents in the backyard. We rode the dirtbike, all three of us at the same time, rode the horse, all 3 at the same time, made zip-lines and tarzan swings out of binder twine (which, by the way, are not strong enough to even hold a 5 yr old, just ask my brother) We could rescue kittens from up in the insuation of the floor of our house, and would be bottle feeding all of them with doll bottles by the time mom would get home. We would bake and cook, even deep fry donuts, home alone. I lit the barbecue for my mom when I was 10 and blew it sky high. (I still have a paralyzing fear of propane. My kids aren't allowed within 6 feet of it.) It now seems crazy that we did all those things. My kids don't do near what I did. I try to remember how fun things like that are for kids, but I have all of the what-if's running through my head. I think I have succeeded the throne of Queen of the Worry Warts.