Reins aren't dog leashes for children

Jan 22, 2024

Two years into motherhood, I’ve figured out a pretty foolproof way of figuring out whether strangers are looking at my daughter and I in a disapproving way. I flash them a big, warm smile, and sometimes I ask my daughter if she wants to say hi; often, she does. How they respond next tells me whether they were looking at something we were doing judgmentally or not, be that how I’m dealing with a tantrum, an unwieldy pushchair or, as has been the case more recently, using reins.

My mum used reins on me in the early 90s when we walked to nursery on a narrow pavement next to a busy road, and her mum on her in the late 50s. As my daughter finds her own feet, the market has moved on considerably. While the concept is still the same (a harness fitted around the child’s torso and a lead at their back to keep hold of them), you can now pick from a range of colours and designs, including ones with little backpacks. My daughter has one of these; the mini backpack has little wings, and the added benefit of being able to safely tuck the lead in when she’s exploring somewhere safe. But while they may look more appealing in a literal sense, some people are still opposed to their usage. As someone on Reddit says, “reins are the work of the devil”.

Personally, I think the devil would be offended to be credited with creating something that is, at its core, a safety device. My daughter, who has the same hypermobility issues I do (sorry, kid), was late to walking. Even now that she’s determinedly up and on the move, she still stumbles regularly. When we’re out, reins allow me to catch her safely before she hits the ground; if she falls dramatically while I’m holding her hand, I risk hurting her shoulder.

That’s not to mention external factors. I think much of the reticence around reins comes from the idea that they are designed to control the child. I think what they actually do is acknowledge that there is so much in the world we cannot control; older kids careening around corners in supermarkets, speeding cars which are quieter and heavier than ever. Staying out of harm’s way is something adults do consciously; it’s why pavements exist. Toddlers, however, haven’t developed the ability to distinguish between harm and safety. It’s the parent’s job to help them learn, but in the meantime, reins keep them close and protected.

If we’re in the woods or on the beach, she can roam free. I’d love to grant her this freedom everywhere we went, but doing so could be dangerous. I was on a residential road during a driving lesson in my twenties when a toddler ran off the pavement and directly in front of my car. Luckily, I was able to brake in time, and stared at the mother with horror as she collected her child. One street along was a busy 40mph road; had he done the same thing two minutes later, he would almost certainly have been hit. Reins would have stopped that.

They’re also incredibly useful for parents of multiples, for grandparents with slower walking speeds or reaction times, and for those who want to encourage their children to walk in places where they would otherwise have to strap them into a pram.

I’ve seen concerns that using harnesses replaces hand-holding, and in doing so, severs that form of emotional connection. But parents are filling their children’s cup with love and affection in myriad other ways all through the day. Perhaps that child on reins you might see is on his way to visit his Nana and make cookies, perhaps he’s on his way home to curl up on his Dad’s lap with a book. We can’t take one snapshot of a person’s day and use it to decide how much emotional connection that child is or isn’t getting.

As for those who argue that reins are simply leashes, and using one equates to treating your child like a dog, I’m unclear on why that’s such a bad thing. I know a lot of family pets who are treated like royalty, and dogs, just like children, have the tendency to bolt unexpectedly. I don’t regard my child as a dog, but I do regard her as something that it is my duty to keep safe. The horror stories of children running into roads and being hit and killed by vehicles never stop circulating, and they never will. Just as parents don’t deserve being judged for their decisions around breastfeeding or bottle feeding, drug-free labour or having an epidural, they also don’t deserve to be judged for actively trying to keep their child safe.

I plan to continue using our reins until my daughter has both the physical ability and mental understanding to no longer need them, and to keep offering that warm smile to any curious strangers. The only thing her reins say is just how much I love her.