It is true what they say, that with your first child you are hyper vigilante, careful, risk averse…and that by the time your third rolls through, you let them juggle knives, or in this case, skateboard. It’s not just about boarding, with the risk intrinsic to a sport involving speed, tricks and concrete, it is also about being a “sk8r”, best exemplified by the music pumped through the speakers at the skate park. Def Leppard, Molly Hatchet (I know, right?) and Bob Marley. On Amazon, it would look something like, “People that bought this also bought this.” I mean, we might as well move to Mendocino at this point and live in an yurt.
Some might attribute this to sloppiness in parenting as the years go on. I disagree. I think it is about recognizing the burgeoning person in all his wholeness and understanding that a kid’s gotta do what a kid’s gotta do.
Skate or die. With full pads and a helmet.
So let us know how long the full pads last. As the mother of 2.5 risk-loving, speed-loving boys (one of my three is not as risky) I failed miserably to keep all the pads on their bodies. I threatened, whined, and then gave up and made photocopies of my health insurance card for each car.
I really should get on those copies.
I’m really most worried about their heads. I think I was scarred for life by the fact that a friend of the family died after whacking his head while skateboarding years ago. I’m sure I will lighten up on the other gear. He actually skipped the wrist guards because they were too unwieldy for him. That was a big step!! :D
This is, of course, my kid with the danger gene. He was walking at 9.5 months and has the scars all over his face to prove he was also climbing bookshelves at the same age. *sigh*
I never got hurt riding bikes or going roller skating or all those hiking/camping/fishing trips with The Unholy 30 so my dad relaxed with my sister and after her multiple hospital visit didn’t let my brother do much of anything without swaddling him in bubblewrap. Then my dad got remarried and the baby stepsister rebelled a lot about her padding and such so finally my dad gave in, she busted her assbone and then she quit doing anything on wheels and stuck to running around. Ok, that was a lot of rambling.