I remember working two jobs throughout college in order to save up enough money for my first vehicle, a ’73 Ford Pinto. Up until I bought that car, I was forced to get around town with nothing but my skate shoes. The Pinto certainly wasn’t the nicest car on the planet, but I had earned it myself and, therefore, I was proud to drive it.
Today the kids in my neighborhood consider it a travesty and personal affront if their parents don’t bestow a $30,000 car to them for their 16th birthday. There is a puzzling amount of entitlement for doing absolutely nothing. Personally, I think everyone should have to buy their own vehicle or, at the very least, drive one of their parents’ old cars. Maybe kids these days would have a little moral fiber if they were forced to hoof it everywhere or use public transportation.
When my husband and I decided to have children, we took the mentality of a basketball superstar entering college: one and done. We both had successful careers, and at the time, we really didn’t want the extra costs or commitment required to rear multiple children. During my second ultrasound, however, we found that I was due to have twins, and our plans quickly changed.
Now that the boys are four years old and we’ve had time to adjust to the lifestyle, I wouldn’t change it for anything—although I’ll admit I was terrified at first. Over the years, we’ve learned how to manage two children, and it’s actually been nice for them to have a permanent playmate. Unfortunately, they grow in unison, so there is no opportunity for hand-me-downs. I take every opportunity I can to stretch the life of their things—from buying clothes a little big to getting adjustable roller skates so it’s impossible for them to outgrow them.
During my youth I always heard adults gripe about the unfairness of childhood; how it’s wasted on the youth, who don’t really appreciate it. I always thought I was different. I told myself I valued my freedom and recognized its fleeting nature, but it wasn’t until it was gone that I truly discovered its worth. Now I would give anything to be free from my social and economic responsibilities.
These feelings manifest themselves most fully during the summertime, when teenagers go to bed at dawn, wakeup after noon and spend the entire day at their leisure; and if they do have jobs, they typically are working outside in the sunshine. Although I am just a few years removed from that age of innocence, I already pine for rolling down the streets late at night with my lighted roller skate wheel shining, hanging out with my friends for hours on end and not caring what tomorrow brought.
Most kids are mortified by the prospect of their parents being a source of embarrassment, and my kids are no different. Typically, however, the parents’ humiliation of the children is unbeknownst to them. As a relatively young parent, I feel acutely attuned to the feelings and emotions of my adolescent children, and I know how to be the “cool” dad and how to turn their faces red.
Sometimes I’ll blare oldies music when my kids’ friends are in the car, wear flamboyant Hawaiian t-shirts or make inane jokes. Just the other day I chaperoned my daughter and some of her friends to the local skate rink on a Friday night. Although I have a pair of rollerblades, I decided to play the embarrassing dad card and donned my antique quad roller skate from the 80s, much to my daughter’s chagrin.
One of my family’s favorite weekend activities is going on a long trek down the Marymoor Trail in Redmond, which winds along the Eastside and will lead you all of the way to Seattle. We typically ride our bikes, but every once in a while we change things up and decide to wear roller skates. The only drawback to this, however, is that we are unable to enter any of the restaurants or attractions along the way due to our skates.
I was recently able to solve this conundrum thanks to some skate buds I found online. These amazing roller skates fit on over your shoes, allowing you to wear your regular sneakers and skate at the same time. Now when we went want to enter a business, we can simply unstrap the skates and walk right in.
As a bona fide health nut, I am always looking to encourage my kids to adopt an active lifestyle without being overbearing. While I would prefer them to never eat fast food, candy or soda and to exercise on a regular basis, I realize that imposing restrictions upon them is only going to promote rebellion. Instead, I simply strive to set a good example and encourage them to make responsible choices on their own.
That being said, I certainly make steps to push them down the healthy life path. For starters, I cook nutritious meals for breakfast, lunch and dinner, endeavoring to strike a balance between taste and nourishment. When it comes to gift giving, I always purchase something that promotes an active lifestyle—whether it’s a baseball glove, youth skate shoes or a new set of skis. Adopting these habits early not only promotes health later in life, but it also improves temperament.
It seems like there is a constant stream of innovation in the realm of children’s toys, particularly when it comes to conveyances. There are manifold variations on the classic skateboard, and who doesn’t remember the Razor scooter craze from a few years ago. For all of these new inventions and improvements however, classic toys seem to have a timeless appeal.
When my daughter was preparing to celebrate her sixth birthday a couple of months ago, she prepared a substantial list for us to pore over. Most of the list was comprised of newfangled toys and gizmos, but I was surprised to find roller skate shoes near the top of the list. While several people decided to indulge her with state-of-the-art toys, I opted to give her the skates. Not only has she barely taken them off since she got them, but they have also prompted her to spend more time outside, away from the TV.
Every summer when I was little, my family would take a summer vacation to a different city on the West Coast. Sometimes we would visit a buzzing metropolis like Los Angeles or Portland, but more often than not, we would end up in a quaint town that rarely experienced tourism. Odd as it may seem, it was these remote locations that I often enjoyed the most.
Instead of fighting our way through long lines or shuttling around the city to take in a few of the main attractions, each day we would explore some aspect of the city, which was usually a lake, forest or park. Not only did this give us an opportunity to meet local people and enjoy the exquisite nature and scenery of the Pacific Coast, but it was also cost-effective. Taking a jaunt on my skate buds around a city park is certainly less expensive than a day at Disneyland or Six Flags.
As we get older, we tend to think of all of the physical activities we do in terms of exercise and the amount of calories burned. For children however, many of the same activities that adults deem exercise are simply viewed as fun and games. In my opinion, a simple rebranding could marginalize the stigma attached to physical activity.
For example, kids roller skate or bike because it is enjoyable, while adults tend to see a Sunday bike ride as a workout. Try replacing one or two activities a week, such as going to a movie, with some sort of physical activity. Don’t look at it as exercise however, but rather try to view it as any other form of entertainment and amusement.
It seems like all people have certain objects, films and pastimes that are an inextricable component of their childhood narrative. For me and other youngsters of the 80s and 90s, these often include Power Rangers, Disney movies and Hello Kitty. There are certain items, however, that seem to transcend generations and never go out of style. One of these timeless products that embody childhood is street gliders.
Some people refer to them as roller skates, but they will always be street gliders to me. The thing that makes them so appealing is there accessibility. Unlike bicycles, you can easily go up curbs, jump down stair and navigate your way through crowded areas. There is also an abundance of games you can play on them, such as hockey or tag.