Before summer break even started, my social media feed was filled with parents announcing they’re giving their kids a “’90s summer.” Most of the posts I saw had the same message: no iPads, no video games, no screens. Every time I read one of those posts, I couldn’t help but laugh a little. Because when I think about a “’90s summer,” that’s not exactly how I remember mine.
Don’t get me wrong. We spent countless hours outside, riding our bikes until the streetlights came on, climbing trees, making up games with the neighborhood kids. We’d come home covered in dirt, grass stains, and mosquito bites. Summer felt endless and somehow every day turned into an adventure. But let’s not rewrite history. We watched TV too.
So it got me thinking about my own childhood: What do I actually remember about summer?
Let’s Be Honest . . . We Watched TV
I was a kid in the ’90s and I absolutely watched TV. Cartoons while I ate breakfast. Soap operas with my Abuelita when I came inside for lunch. Movies at night after playing outside all day. Some of my favorite summer memories even involve watching movies. We loved going to the drive-in theater. I still remember piling into the bed of my friend’s dad’s pickup truck, filling it with blankets and pillows, eating buttery popcorn, drinking pop (or soda, because I’m from Maryland), and watching Angels in the Outfield under the stars. Those are some of the memories that have stayed with me.
Television was part of my childhood. We all had our favorite shows. We knew exactly when they came on, and if you missed one, you hoped a friend recorded it on VHS tape or would tell you what happened. The difference wasn’t that we never watched screens. It was that screens weren’t the main event. They filled the quiet moments before the real adventures began or helped us unwind after we’d spent the day making memories outside.
Childhood Happened Outside
When I think about my childhood, most of my memories from summer don’t involve what was on TV. They involve being outside with my friends. I remember riding my bike for hours, climbing trees, getting dirty, making up games with the neighborhood kids, and using my imagination. I remember scraped knees, sticky popsicle hands, catching lightning bugs at dusk, and staying outside until our parents came looking for us.
There wasn’t a calendar packed with activities. There wasn’t constant entertainment. Our parents weren’t expected to fill every minute of every day. We learned to entertain ourselves, get creative, go explore. Sometimes we argued with our friends, made up, and kept playing. We knocked on doors to see who was home, built forts out of whatever we could find, and somehow always found something to do. Sometimes we were bored, but our parents didn’t see boredom as something they needed to fix. It was usually the beginning of a new adventure.
Finding the Balance
I’d love to recreate every part of my childhood, but the truth is some things have changed. I’m not sending my boys off to a park a mile away without knowing where they are. Parenting today comes with different realities and that’s okay. The world they are growing up in isn’t the same one I grew up in and my job as their mom is to prepare them for their world, not the one I remember.
Technology has changed too. Every game, every movie, every TV show, and every friend they know fits inside one small screen they can carry everywhere. Entertainment is always available, and that’s something we never had growing up. Our childhood had natural stopping points.
Today, entertainment never really has to end. That’s exactly why I don’t think the answer is pretending technology doesn’t exist. My boys are going to use iPads. They’re going to watch movies. They’re going to play video games. None of those things make me feel guilty. They’re part of growing up today. I just don’t want those things to define their summer. I want screens to be part of their childhood, not the story of it.
What a ’90s Summer Looks Like at Our House
My boys aren’t banned from electronics. They can watch cartoons in the morning just like I did and they can wind down with a movie at night just like I did. But that’s not what I want them to remember most about summer. This summer they’ve been completely invested in the World Cup. Since all four of them play soccer, we watched a lot of games together. What I loved most wasn’t actually watching the matches. It was looking over and seeing them at the dining room table with paper, crayons, tape, and straws, creating flags for the countries they were cheering for. The TV brought us together, but their imaginations took over.
During the day, they’re going to summer camp. They’ll have tutoring–because learning doesn’t stop just because school’s out. They’ll ride bikes, play soccer with the neighborhood kids, get dirty, use their imaginations, and spend as much time outside as they can. When one of them inevitably tells me, “Mom, I’m bored,” there’s a pretty good chance they’re getting handed a cleaning chore. Does it actually get done? Nope. About two minutes later they’ve wandered off to color, build something, or create a game with their brothers instead. I’ll take that. If boredom leads them to use their imagination instead of asking for their iPads, I’d call that a win.
We’re also making a summer bucket list. We’re making tie-dye shirts, trying crazy recipes, going to the zoo, planning play dates with friends, taking our annual family vacation, and trying new things together, like a camping trip with friends up north. Life doesn’t completely stop just because school’s out. There are still camps, tutoring, practices, and responsibilities. But there will also be lazy afternoons, dirty feet, sticky popsicle hands, and plenty of time to simply be kids. That’s the kind of summer I remember and it’s the kind of summer I hope my boys remember someday too.
It’s Not Really About the ’90s
The older I get, the more I realize I’m not actually chasing the ’90s summer, even though it was such an amazing time. I’m chasing the feeling those summers gave me. The freedom to explore. The excitement of knocking on a friend’s door to see if they could come out and play. The creativity that came from being bored. The memories that were made without realizing they would become the stories I’d still be telling decades later.
I know my boys’ childhood won’t look exactly like mine and it shouldn’t. One day they’ll probably tell their own kids about the games they played, the shows they watched, and the technology they couldn’t live without. They’ll laugh when their kids can’t believe they used iPads or had to wait for a video game to download.
Every generation has its own version of childhood. What I hope never changes is the feeling. I hope my boys remember belly laughs with their brothers, dirty feet from running through the backyard, pool days that lasted until the sun started to set, tie-dye shirts they proudly wore all summer, and evenings when they begged for just five more minutes outside.
If years from now they can look back and say, “Summer was my favorite,” then I’ll know I did something right.
Because a ’90s summer was never really about having less technology.
It was about making more memories.
