“Go outside and play until the sun sets.” This was the mantra of my childhood summers in the late 1980s and early 90s, and now that I’m a mom, I fully understand its significance.
Back then, we didn’t have the distractions of modern electronics, Snapchat, or video games that seem to consume kids today. Our entertainment options were limited to a handful of fuzzy TV channels, an original Nintendo, and just two games: Mario Brothers and Duck Hunt. With only one wired controller among three siblings, our gaming time was pretty much non-existent.
With no electronic babysitter in sight, my siblings and I had two choices: stay inside or venture outdoors. And trust me, my mom would never let us stay inside for an entire summer.
After breakfast, we’d head outside to craft mud pies beneath our treehouse, play with our dog, and ride our bikes through the countryside. We’d collect dandelions, swing on a tire, and engage in epic stick battles. Growing up in the rural expanse, we didn’t have subdivisions filled with kids; instead, we had winding gravel roads and fields stretching to the horizon. A neighbor kid might wander over now and then, but mostly we were on our own.
While we explored the great outdoors, my mom would be busy talking to her fellow stay-at-home moms on a long corded phone, preparing lunch, folding laundry, or even enjoying a moment with a book. Meanwhile, we were outside, lost in our imaginations, creating plays and getting delightfully muddy.
On particularly hot days, my mom would set up the sprinkler, and we’d leap through the refreshing spray, gulping water directly from the stream when we got thirsty. If a storm rolled in and we found ourselves stuck inside, we’d get inventive—finding ways to eavesdrop on mom’s conversations. When the novelty wore off, we’d play with Barbies, Batman, or our colorful Legos, constructing elaborate shopping malls.
As the eldest, I would run “Manners School” in the kitchen or pretend to be a bartender, inspired by my dad’s favorite movie, Tombstone. We’d slide juice glasses across the counter, attempting to mimic gruff voices. Complaints of boredom were strictly off-limits; saying that dreaded word earned us chores like washing dishes or picking vegetables from the garden.
Now that I’m a mother of four, summer is just around the corner, and I feel a strong pull to recreate that carefree vibe from my childhood. While many parents are enrolling their kids in pricey summer camps filled with glitter projects and concerts, I’m opting for a different route.
I have no intention of spending thousands of dollars this summer. With four kids of varying ages, coordinating attendance at camps would mean endless shuttling in the sweltering heat with cranky, hungry children. Special trips to the zoo or theme parks? No thanks—more heat, more crowds, and more expenses. I’m not keen on baseball either, especially since my kids show no interest. I’m looking forward to relaxing evenings with Netflix and a glass of wine, not hanging out on a ball field.
Instead, I plan to embrace a nostalgic 1980s summer. I envision lounging in a lawn chair, flipping through a magazine while the kids play in a classic sprinkler. When it’s time for a snack, I’ll hand them homemade popsicles. They can host concerts in the basement with old Halloween costumes or write plays using our extensive collection of coloring books.
In addition to reading and board games, they can build forts with blankets or create magnificent structures with their countless Legos. We have popsicle molds, so they can get creative in the kitchen. And let’s not forget the sheer joy of bubbles!
I’m also excited to bake cookies together, swim, host friends, and catch fireflies before bed. My husband will fire up the grill for family dinners, and we’ll enjoy movie nights with popcorn. All those Christmas gifts that went untouched during the school year? They’ll finally get some playtime.
The local library will be our treasure trove, allowing the kids to borrow books and movies for the week at no cost. And on those unbearably hot days, they can binge-watch classic shows or dive into video games like Minecraft.
And if they dare complain about being bored, I have a long list of chores waiting for them. Just like my mom, I won’t tolerate it.
This summer will be filled with endless possibilities without breaking the bank. I refuse to let it become a source of stress. Instead, I want to create lasting family memories, rather than getting caught in a chaotic schedule that leaves us all exhausted.
Call me old-fashioned, but I believe there is beauty in simplicity. Our 1980s-inspired summer will stand out in today’s fast-paced world, and I can’t wait to savor every moment.