I feel sorry for modern day kids.

They live a life inundated with media…X-box, Wii, video games, movies, tv…a life where the need for creativity has been robbed from them in exchange for mind-numbing lethargic entertainment.

I don’t often have opinions about how I’m going to raise my kids, if I ever have them (I’ve learned that it won’t matter anyway, after watching my parents raise 10 very different children who all interpret life in a unique way), but in this one instance, I think I know how I will do it.

My kids won’t be given movies and video games carte blanc.

They won’t be raised on Dora the explorer, Spongebob, High School Musical and Hannah Montana. And it’s not because I’m going to be one of those super conservative parents that doesn’t believe in tv and computers. It’s not cause I don’t want them tainted by “the world.”

It’s cause I want to give them something better.

A trip down nostalgia lane the other day reminded me of all the crazy adventures my brothers and I used to play. They were amazing games, brimming with creativity and imagination.

My parents couldn’t buy us dress up clothes as kids, but by a stroke of luck, when I was about 6 years old, we “inherited” a wardrobe full of my great-grandmother’s atrocious 100% polyester XXL dress/jacket sets. These quickly became our costumes for many Israelite battles. One dress was a lovely burgundy color and, if accessorized with the jumbo lego bucket draped in the matching jacket (which fit perfectly over our heads), was the get up for anything from Queen Esther to King Solomon. Throw away the bucket and just drape the jacket tied with a necktie, and you were shepherd boy David or Gideon or Jael.

There were always battles.

Swing sets became pirate ships. So was the gigantic slash pile in Papa’s back yard that had paths worn into it that created “perfect” upper and lower ship decks.

The dining room chairs made perfect walls to create living room size blanket forts. We agreed early on that it was unacceptable to be a REAL family…blech…who wanted to be a mother and father?! Instead, we were orphans, living off the land. Usually we were pioneers in wagon trains or Indians in teepees. And Ben (blast him for being MORE creative) was always the pet bear or tiger or some other species of animal that was annoying and impossible to control and made raucous noises at random.

We would play with Hot Wheels on the plaid couch that had perfect little squares you could turn into parking spaces and streets.

Our wooden toy box made the perfect time machine, which we used to travel anywhere from medieval castles to exotic European hide-aways to Bible times to…the future!

The 10 foot long “hill” in the backyard was an awesome sledding hill and we ran barefoot outside from March to October. The woods provided the perfect set for us to build teepees out of downed trees and play like we were explorers and mountain men.

Once, my brothers thought it would be a good idea to run into the woods and play mountain men for real. They packed backpacks and set off on their adventure…making it 50 yards into the dense underbrush. As they prepared to cross a dried up creek bed, an old cat skeleton frightened the bravery out of their 5 and 7 year old brains and they came rushing back, sure that a wolf had devoured the creature and would come after them next, if they dared to stay out after dark.

There was no limit to where our imaginations could take us.

I watch my younger siblings, who were slowly slipped into the media-rich world of modern day child-rearing and I can’t help but think they are being robbed. Robbed of the best years of their lives...and the millions of memories they COULD be making, if they had nothing but each other and their imaginations to satisfy their boredom.

My kids won’t be robbed of that chance. Not if I can help it.