Layin' Down the Rules

A day or so ago, I wrote a comment on my friend's blog about the rules that her family had when she was growing up regarding what was appropriate on Sundays. Got me thinkin'.

My parents had some basic rules about Sunday - no playing with friends, no TV until after 6pm, I don't know, nothing too strict, I guess. But I was always intrigued by this family's rule that the girls had to stay in dresses all day long on Sunday. There was to be no changing into comfy clothes. I'm the kind of girl who was taking off her L'eggs Sheer Energy Control Top Pantyhose in Tan or Opaque White (!!) by the time the family station wagon was rolling into the driveway after church. I could make a pair of those babies last for a year, all the runs stopped by generous dabs of clear nail polish - raise your hand if you did the same. Anyway, I enjoy comfortable lounge wear on a Sunday afternoon, so this "no pants" rule seemed to perplex me. I understand the whole being more inclined to keep the Sabbath Day holy if you are dressed in a Sabbath manner. But I know the girls in this family were reading all the V. C. Andrews books on Sunday afternoons and being in a dress didn't stop them. Hehehe, that's why I loved this family.

I could go visit them on Sundays - I guess they were allowed to have friends over - I don't recall if I had to wear a dress when I came over. I probably did, being the pleasing sort of child that I was. My friend also informed me that they weren't allowed to bother their parents on Sunday afternoons, when they'd go in their bedroom and shut the door. Now there's a rule! There are a million things in my life that I have no memory of, yet that tidbit has stayed with me - go figure.

But I digress - this post is about family rules in general. Growing up, I remember two rules that my parents spent a lot of time defining. The first was about dating. We were allowed to start dating at 16, but only double dates. We could single date when we turned 18. No exceptions. I spent a major portion of my teen years fighting this rule. I mean really, the family that had to stay in dresses on Sunday was allowed to single date at 16! I complained long and loud (tears even) over this injustice, but my parent's never budged. Way to go, Mom and Dad. And as my teen years progressed, I realized that I'd been fighting over a non-issue: I was never even asked out on a date until after I had turned 18. So there.

Will I have this rule in my own family, for my boys and their future dating plans? Probably something very similar. I'm formulating a rule about taking Mom to at least one school dance, and not dating the same person two times in a row.

The other big rule that my family had was about television watching. Or rather, not watching. This was something we fought about constantly. This rule was not so hard and defined - I remember it changed a lot - different regulations that would limit the amount of time that I spent in front of the Boob Tube - that's what my Dad called it, and I would just DIE inside that my Dad said the word boob.

Sometimes the rule was about when I could watch - only after homework was done, or after 6pm on Sundays, only until noon on Saturday, etc. Other times, the rule was about how much. My Dad had a small workshop and he made a wooden box with a padlock on it. Inside the box was a timer, the kind you'd set to turn your lights on and off when you'd go on vacation. Every Sunday night, the family would go over the TVWeek that came in the paper and we each got to choose a show or two - sometimes limited to 1/2 hour a day, Monday - Friday and 2 hours on the weekends. My Dad would set the timer and then lock it up in the box. The TV would come on at it's appointed time and we'd be able to watch our allotted program. I called this entire setup "The Cruel Rule", hoping that my rhyming cleverness might make them rethink this madness. I was a television junkie, crying and ranting, waiting for my next fix. Taking any babysitting job I could get, just to be able to watch The Facts of Life, Diff'rent Strokes, Love Boat, Fantasy Island or Dallas. I couldn't date, I might as well be watching some TV, right?

I distinctly remember a time when my parents left for a few hours and I got a screwdriver and took the wooden box apart, punching buttons and spinning the dial, trying to get the TV to come on. This was long before cable and even if I did get it to work, I'm sure there wasn't much to watch, but I DID NOT CARE. Didn't care if I got caught, got grounded, I just had to get me some. Aaaah, sweet, sweet television.

The timer on the television didn't last very long (gee, I wonder why), but there was always a rule of some sort in place about television. Until I turned 16. I think my parents looked at me, chubby little television watcher that I was, knew I wouldn't get any dates, and they gave me a TV for my birthday. Black and white, 10 inch, with rabbit ear antennae that could barely pick up a station in my basement bedroom. But it was mine. No rules attached. A victory for television addicts everywhere.

So have these kinds of television rules surfaced in my own home? Not even. Other than content, which the boys (also known as the Profanity Police) monitor for themselves, they can watch when they want. And sometimes they do, but most of the time, they don't. Hehehe - they have computers now. I fantasize about a little wooden lock box sometimes.

So, rules. We all had 'em growing up. What were they about - chores, television, friends, dating? Did you fight them? Do you have the same rules for your kids? What will you change?