Every parent has experienced that heart-stopping moment when their
little treasure wriggles free from their grasp and out on to a main road or
into the crowds of a busy shopping centre. It is an unavoidable rite of
passage for parent and child and – most of the time – results in nothing
more than raised blood pressure and a quick telling-off.
Mine came while I was walking down a busy London street with my daughter
Elizabeth, then 20 months. She hated her buggy and I hated saying no to her,
so we set off hand-in-hand. But my concentration lapsed for a moment, I let
her hand go and she ran in front of a car. We were lucky, she was unscathed,
but I learnt my lesson and went straight out to buy some child safety reins.
In the 1970s mothers dressed their kids in polyester flares, sought Dr Spock’s
advice on everything from grazes to gripe water, and considered child safety
reins a vital part of a parent’s armoury.
Fast forward 30 years and polyester flares have been replaced by Charlie and
Lola T-shirts and Dr Spock by Gina Ford. Reins, meanwhile, have become all
but invisible. But despite their public absence, sales have never been
better. John Lewis says that in the first week of January it sold a pair
every 24 minutes, while a LittleLife bag – a novelty rucksack with a
parental safety strap attached – crossed the counter every four minutes.
So where are they? And why are people buying them if nobody appears to be
using them?
Debate on their use rages on internet parenting forums, where fans say that
they are a “godsend” and a “lifesaver”, while detractors claim that they are
“chavvy” and for “lazy parents”. On babyworld.co.uk an advert for a new type
of harness describes traditional reins as “frankly demeaning to both parent
and child”.
Against the spirit of the age
When did a safety device once as ubiquitous as it was innocuous become so
contentious? Dr Pat Spungin, a psychologist who runs the parenting website
raisingkids.co.uk, thinks that harnessing children goes against modern
parenting philosophy.
“It’s an emotional thing. It’s not the spirit of the age. In their
relationships with authorities, adults and other children, the current
fashion is for them to feel unencumbered and liberated. If they’re in
harnesses we feel that we’re restricting them. The paradox is that we may
not want them in reins, but actually we live in a society where children are
more restricted than ever.”
Emma Grove, 37, from Guildford, Surrey, bought some reins after her
two-year-old ran away in a shopping centre. “I only got them to keep my mum
happy. She used them on me and couldn’t understand why I didn’t want them.
I’ve no intention of using them. They’re common and I’d feel like I was
treating Ethan like a dog on a lead. Using them would be like admitting that
I couldn’t control my son.”
Frank Furedi, the author of Paranoid Parenting: Why Ignoring the Experts
may be Best for your Child, believes that putting children in reins can
foster a false sense of security. “Every parent has experienced a breakaway
attempt by a child but, provided there’s no harm done, that’s no bad thing,”
he says. “It gives us an opportunity to talk with our kids and to explain
their behaviour. If a child is in a chair or on a leash, then he or she less
opportunity to learn from his or her mistakes.”
Despite my experience with Elizabeth, I do not use reins that often, partly
because she doesn’t like them and partly because I don’t either. But my
scare did make me rethink my attitude towards parenting. I had fallen into
the trap of treating Elizabeth like my friend and giving her far more
responsibility and freedom than she could handle. It made me realise that my
job was not to ensure that she always had fun, but to protect her.
I also think I missed the chance of introducing them early to Elizabeth.
Childcare experts say that the earlier the reins are introduced, the more
likely they will be accepted. Instead I am more vigilant about where and
when she is allowed out of the buggy.
And I confess that although I know reins are a good idea, deep down I am
snobby about them. When I see a child wearing a pair I turn up my nose.
Furedi believes that my attitude is a sign of the times. “They’re considered
bad taste, a bit like playpens or dummies. It’s a cultural affectation, but
there’s an important class difference in the way they’re used. Middle-class
families are far less likely to use them than working-class families. There
are also regional differences. They’re probably less common in London than
elsewhere in the country.”
“They keep your kids safe – simple”
Not everyone thinks that reins are a bad thing. Louise Houston, a 40-year-old
TV producer from Hertfordshire, has fond memories of being taken for walks
in reins by her grandad when she was little and has used them with both her
children, Marley, 4, and Ruby, 2. “I think they’re invaluable and I’ve never
noticed anyone give me a funny look for using them. I don’t think they’re
common. They keep your kids safe. Simple.”
She thinks any snobbery is misplaced and a product of a status-obsessed
society. “The reason they used to be so popular is because prams and buggies
were so big and cumbersome, but now we have designer buggies, which are
status symbols more than anything. You can’t show off how much you earn with
a pair of £2.99 reins.”
Hmm. If mothers from similar backgrounds can arrive at such polarised
conclusions, is there any chance of consensus among childcare experts? Sue
Palmer, the author of Toxic Childhood, feels that parents are too
reliant on pushchairs and use them for their convenience not the child’s
wellbeing. “Reins are much better than the despicable buggy. Once kids are
up and about, they should be walking and getting exercise. The safest way to
do that is with reins. There’s nothing worse than seeing a four-year-old
crammed into a pushchair when he could be on his feet. Encouraging children
that young to be sedentary is asking for problems later on.”
But Neil Henty, an education and development writer, believes that any device
that constrains a child should be used with caution. “Where possible, babies
and young children should be allowed to move freely and to explore their
world through their senses and their interactions with their environment.”
That is all well and good, thinks Anouchka Langford, a 34-year-old teacher
from Southampton, but what if you have a wilful child? She intends to use
reins on her one-year-old, Caspar, just like her mother did with her. “My
only reservation is that in today’s climate of ‘talk and reason’ a rein is
seen as a heavy-handed approach. But that won’t stop me using them.”
For feedback on this article, and news and views from busy mums, go to timesonline.co.uk/alphamummy
Safety first
Road sense According to the Department for Transport, more than 1,100
children aged between 1 and 5 were injured or killed as pedestrians in 2006.
Children have difficulty judging speed and distance until they are at least
8, so it is vital to teach road safety from early on.
Hands-on approach Always hold your children’s hands when you cross a
road and don’t let them run ahead: there may be hidden driveways crossing
the pavement. Tell them always to stop at the kerb.
Playtime Road safety is quickly forgotten if a child drops a ball in
the street, so save playing for the park.
Look sharp drivers cannot always see small children, so make them wear
brightly coloured clothes.
More information thinkroadsafety.gov.uk
