Some of my senior friends may not know there is such a thing as Nature Deficit Disorder affecting some of the children of today, and they, like me, might scoff at a class called Parenting Skills.

It’s really too bad that our mothers (those mothers who were born in the early 1900s) didn’t write a few books about the old-fashioned wisdom acquired by mothering.

Most of the time, back then, there were few homes with only one child and fewer single-parent homes. Since the dad was away all day working, the mom performed parenting skills full time. She did this with skills acquired by osmosis from watching, listening and learning from other family members.

Moms in the old days never thought that what was routine for her, would become a class to be taught, often by someone who wasn’t a parent. Parenting Skills has become a necessary subject in today’s world.

How did mothers ever cope with five or six children, especially in the summer time when there was no school, no summer day camp or family vacations? Long before television, and its attending video games, children were basically the same as today. Moms knew all about boredom and attention deficit, although these conditions hadn’t yet been medically identified as disorders.

A child sitting around, looking down in the dumps, had their temperature taken (hand on forehead), asked a few medical questions (are you sick? Do you want to lie down and take a nap?), and if in the mom’s opinion, nothing was wrong, that child soon found himself occupied.

If a child was “underfoot,” that is, walking back and forth, chattering about “something to do,” twisting their hair, teasing the cat or making strange body sounds, it was time for Parenting Skills to kick in.

About this time of year, going outdoors was the cure for everything. “Outside” was the one-word command. It wasn’t a nice suggestion and the family didn’t sit down to discuss it – it was a command, plain and simple.

Go outside and play.

Before the first muttering of protest was finished, as we headed through the screen door, curiosity had been piqued about something in the outside world. Dew on the grass, shining like diamonds; a deer in the garden; a tree branch fallen down overnight; a car going by; a new hatching of bugs. There was always something new.

Most of the time mother was outside, too. Hanging out clothes or gathering the dry ones off the clothesline; working in the garden, pulling weeds or picking vegetables. And yes, kids could help. Boredom soon went away.

Here in the 21st century we now have something called NDD – Nature Deficit Disorder. Someone has written a book about this latest malady. I haven’t read it, but did see a review on the Internet.

Apparently there are children (and no doubt, many young parents) who are afraid of things in the natural world. They’re afraid to sit on the ground. They think unexplained sounds from the woods are frightening; they don’t view exploring in the forest with curiosity, but with fear. They worry about catching something – some unknown disease.

We’re raising kids who will never drink cold water out of a stream; they’ll never mangle three or four worms trying to bait a fishhook, and probably never venture into a field to pick wildflowers. Those pesky grasshoppers leaping all around would send shivers up anyone’s spine!

I hope that this NDD business, and the need for lessons in parenting, will turn out to be fads and go out of style.

Those of us who grew up in the country, before streetlights and sidewalks, and manicured ballfields, should consider ourselves fortunate. If we took our kids outdoors to look for signs of spring, find a wooly bear caterpillar, or just walk around the fields, then our kids are lucky, too. Let’s hope they remember the fun of discovery, and show their children all the wonders of the natural world.