How to be a kid again in Charlotte
A few months ago I threatened to throw my daughter’s bike away.
Conley had outgrown the bike that she learned to ride on. Her new one was bigger and had hand brakes. She was intimidated by it. Our practice sessions on the new bike included a lot of tears, some even from my daughter.
After a particularly frustrating afternoon I had a hissy fit that would have made the Great Santini proud. I grabbed the bike by the handlebars and told her, “I know that you know how to ride this bike. If you don’t ride it right now, I am going to throw the damn thing in a dumpster.”
It was one of my most shameful parenting fails; one that has filled me with regret and embarrassment ever since. Needless to say, my kid wasn’t exactly begging for me to take her bike riding after that.
Earlier this summer, I was straightening up her toy room and noticed her gleaming black and neon green bike hanging on its rack. I was hit with a powerful wave of nostalgia for my beloved white Huffy, the one that my grandfather taught me to ride in the alley behind his sports bar.
I thought about the bike’s pink wheels, worn slick from use and the tattered streamers that whipped through the air, making me feel that I could fly. In a childhood swirling with welfare checks, overturned furniture and drug addiction, that bike was an escape and a salvation.
A Mommy Dearest meltdown could not be what my kid associated with bike riding. That kind of behavior was not what I promised her on the night that she was born and I whispered, “Where there was yelling and hard edges for me, there will be support and soft places to land for you. Our story is going to be so different.”
I had to change this narrative. I had to keep my vow to her.
When I first made that promise to her, it was to ensure that she had a wonderful childhood. Little did I know that I would be getting one too.
We’ve been fortunate to have some memorable vacations, but when I think back to my childhood, I don’t long for the fancy trips that we couldn’t afford to take. No, what I missed out on was simply being secure and carefree.
Although as an adult I have to concern myself with things like paying the mortgage and figuring out our health insurance plan, I’ll take it to live in a fun, hospitable city that allows me to experience the everyday magic of being a kid.
Here are some of my favorite Queen City activities that remind you how to be a kid again in Charlotte:
Bike rides
After some much more relaxed lessons, my daughter took to her bike like a champ. Last week we hit up the Recyclery, where I picked out a fabulous bright orange mountain bike. Since then the McMullen Creek Greenway has become a second home for us. We speed down the trails, wide grins spreading across our faces, alive with the sheer joy of it all.
Ballpark snacking
As soon as we walk into BB&T Ballpark for a Knights game I ask my husband if he’ll buy me some popcorn and Cracker Jacks. He groans and heads to get us a beer. Even when my spouse is unappreciative of my comedic gifts, the ballpark makes me giddy. We cheer, we try to catch home runs, we pose for pics with Homer.
Carefree dinner adventures
From Benny Pennello’s to Pike’s to Pinky’s, Charlotte has some great spots that remind you how delicious it is to throw the kale and quinoa to the side on occasion and enjoy pizza slices the size of a compact car, lip-smacking milkshakes and greasy cheeseburgers that make you want to testify.
Other favorite adventure spots with my family include: the U.S. National Whitewater Center, Freedom Park, Carowinds, ImaginOn and Sky Zone.
I may not have had a great childhood the first time around, but I’m having a damn fine one now.
Photos: Sosha Lewis
This story was originally published August 9, 2017 at 12:00 AM.