Skateboarding

My son and his friends enjoy skateboarding--especially when it involves things like ramps, jumps, and "catching air." The other day they put several ramps together and made some really great jumps. I think one of them had a minor injury, but no arms or legs were broken in the process. A few years ago, my son had a bike wreck and suffered some major "road rash"--I was overprotective for a while after that, but I eventually realized that I was doing him no favors by hovering over him in anticipation of his next injury. As time progressed, I began to let go of my unwarranted paranoia and learned to stop hovering (or at least held myself back a bit). Now, if I say something that even resembles worrying, my son calls me out on it. He assures me that he is taking the proper precautions and using the recommended safety procedures--however, he is not going to let the possibility of getting injured keep him from having fun. His dad has informed him about the "dos and don'ts" of many things--he has more experience in this arena than I do. I was a girly girl who took very few risks--no thrill rides or extreme sports for me. His dad, on the other hand, was a daredevil--he grew up in the days of Evil Kneviel, and he often tried to recreate cool stunts while riding his bike. I hate to be stereotypical, but I guess it's a "boy thing"--at least for our family. The neighborhood girls seem to enjoy watching the boys jump and do stunts, but they rarely seem to join them. None of the boys seem to be overly obsessed with skateboarding--it is just something they do every now and then. I think they like their video games a lot more--this is the big difference between their generation and ours. I guess my generation spent more time outdoors looking for things to do, while their generation turns to technology first and only go outdoors as a last resort. Hmm--I wonder how it all balances out: more time outdoors can mean more physical activity and better health, BUT...it can also mean more physical injuries, too. I will try to avoid excess worry or hovering over them, but they will just have to deal with my occasional statements and pleas such as, "Be careful," or "Wear your helmet." They always react by rolling their eyes and telling me that I worry too much, but that's okay--I tell them that I love them and I am "just being a mother." I guess we never really stop worrying about them, do we? So, in the words of my favorite 80s cop show, "Let's be careful out there."