Will wii or won't wii?

OK here is another factoid about me that many folks probably don't know. I don't really like video games. Maybe that is because um pong was popular when i was in high school. and Atari when i was in my late teens, early 20's. I actually get motion sick from some of the modern video games. They move so fast and the horizon line changes so quickly I get queasy.

But my personal dislikes aside, video games have a propensity for turning my Rob into a zombie. The only time it doesn't is if he is playing with his younger brother. Then i think the forced breaks and discussions (arguments??) over whose turn is next and such prevent him from totally zoning out. But the zone out thing scares me. He literally will sorta glaze over and be very uncommunicative if playing them on his own for more than 10 or 15 minutes. I read something somewhere that some people's brains are impacted by the video games more than others and i wonder if that is the case for him. So there is that concern.

There is also the fact that deep down I think these games stifle creativity and spontaneous play that I associate way more with childhood. Building forts, making artistic messes or science experiments in the kitchen, outdoor explorations. That kind of thing. I find the presence of video games can erode all children's interest in those other things.

OK so there are all the cons. On the plus side, the wii system does allow for more exercise than one's thumb. And it would be something to do to burn energy maybe in the deep dark days of winter when they can only play outside for 40 minutes or so a day. I do have a problem with that as my kids are all high energy. 3 of the 4 seasons we typically have 60 to 90 minutes of outdoor play after supper nightly. In winter we can't and my house rings with the cacophony that results.

And so I ponder. Do I shock em at Yule with a wii system? And if I do, how do I find a game that will interest both a 5 1/2 year old and my 13 year old? And how many of the stupid different kind of controllers will I need? Sigh. I like buying bendaroos and blendy pens. I know how those work! This is confusing. And I really really don't know if it will be a good thing or something that I will grow to regret.

On a slightly related note, with the exception of deciding whether to put one of these technological marvels on layaway, I have 90 per cent of the actual Yule gifts bought for the kids and K. I am about 1/2 done for Fiona and have not done stocking stuffers for anyone yet. But I am way ahead of where I have been the last 2 years!

Skunks and Drumming

OK, now that i have shed the bad mojo of the weekend I have to share two really cool things that happened. The first was early Saturday morning. I was out with the kids running errands before mom arrived. We went to the post office so I could mail a gift to Fiona for her new room at the RTC she has moved to. Our post office has these weird deep window wells on the side of the building that faces the parking lot. They are seriously deep, a whole floor level down I would think and are fenced off with wrought iron grilles. For some reason, my children always have to run over and look down into them. Don't know why. They always run over and check the wells while I unbuckle Elisabeth. This Saturday, as I have my head in the van undoing her straps, I hear KC's voice " Ooma, come look at the SKUNK!" OMG I have never unbuckled that child so quickly! I called for them to take a step back quietly and then we all approached slowly and quietly. Said skunk was a baby. Somehow it must have fallen in and it couldn't get out. Oh gosh was it ever cute. We were pretty dang cautious though! Went in the post office to do our mailing and the boys couldn't wait to tell the postal clerk what was outside. They were still fighting over who was going to get "skunk releasing" duty.

Today our church had a drumming circle. It was a kid friendly event. I was in charge of making percussion instruments with any kids who came early. That meant my 3 and 3 other kids made drums out of pails and oatmeal containers and shakers out of plastic easter eggs. It was a blast.

The drummer brought LOTS of drums though and the funny thing was that KC was able to snag a "real" drum for us. He was cool with making one but real instruments call to that kid like chocolate calls to my wife! He chose an African drum, tall with this skinny base and wide head. The fellow who led the drumming circle explained the first drumming and led off. The group followed. So kid KC, in perfect synchronicity. It was so amazing to watch.

Then it was Lissa's turn to rock my world. The third drumming sequence was based on a rhythm used in the middle east for women to dance to. They dance cathartic dances when faced with crisis in their lives and dance until they find release. OK so the drumming starts. KC by now is lying quietly just listening to the beat. He invested so much of himself in the first one he was exhausted I think. It was also amazingly hot and we aren't used to heat much this summer. But part way through that drumming sequence, Lissa got up and just started twirling to it in place. Very carefully, very intentionally. Not just the wild, 2 year old fling your body around that is so much more typical of her. It was amazing to me.

Rob said he enjoyed being there and enjoyed listening but didn't want to drum. That was the only thing I felt badly about. Not that he didn't want to do it. I am pretty sure he did. But he often holds himself back because he is so afraid of failing or not doing well enough. But at least he wanted to be there and at the end of the circle when we all held hands and closed, his strong young man's hand was holding his little brothers hand and one of his sisters hands. I love that.

Weary Weekend

My mom came for a visit this weekend, thus the heading for this entry. She is undecided about where she wants to live. I get that, and I totally support her living wherever she WANTS to live. I am not sure she gets that. Sometimes I think I am speaking some foreign language to her.

What I don't get is her negativity. It just totally exhausts me. I know I don't have house beautiful. But I do have 4 children and a wife whom I adore. I have kids who play imaginatively for vast periods of time with very low cost props. We have fun together. We make memories together. And all my mother sees is the fact that the room where we package piece work is a mess. Duh? It is filled with something like 68 boxes of combs. If any of you buy Scunci comb packs or Conair comb packs in your local big box store, we may have packed them for you! LOL It isn't neat work, it isn't even high paying work. But it pays enough to help us pay our bills and allow us a very flexible schedule, playing with our kids as we wish. It is a trade off I am willing to take and grateful to have.

So Mom didn't notice that KC breezed through the first 37 pages of the Hooked on Phonics kit we borrowed from the library. (I am thinking I am really glad i didn't invest in buying this!!!) She barely noticed all 3 younger kids spend 30 minutes "fishing" in our driveway with a kiddie pool and 3 pretend fishing poles and a bunch of plastic fish.

She didn't notice the joy my kids showed at her arrival or the spic and span and very welcoming bedroom awaiting her.

She noticed my side yard which she deemed in need of mowing. (we are not mowing because there is poison ivy there and we are hand weeding and planting gardens). And she noticed our work room and deemed it "a shame." A shame????

I had a migraine this afternoon and I think it was all the stress I was holding in. But she has returned home to her state. Breathe in. Breathe out. Smile.

A Moment of Honesty

Blog readers will know that Rob has some issues surrounding honesty. He exhibits what is often called "crazy lying". Lying in the face of all evidence (and even eye witness accounts) prove otherwise. So I truly, honestly and completely treasure each time he tells the truth. Because it tells me that at that moment in time, he feels safe. Because I think the lack of "safe" feeling is at the root of crazy lying for him. And much of the time, although he is happy and feeling a part of the family, he is waiting for us to prove to him that we are just like all the other bad adult experiences in his life. We have been a family for 7 years, and only recently, every once in a while do I see him show the courage and trust to tell the truth.

Last night he asked to ride his bike around the block. Sure, no problem. He got his helmet and bike and set off. And time went by. He should not have been gone all that long, but the minutes ticked by. I wondered mentally if he saw a friend and got yakking, forgetting the time. I began to envision darker things. Falling and seriously hurting himself, and worse. I can be, in moments like that, what we call an "extreme thinker" conjuring up all manner of possible problems. And I think I do that a lot with Rob because he also tends to freeze in emergency situations and I worry that he would not seek out help should he need it.

But just as I was ready to take the 2 youngest and start scouting, he came home. And immediately, came to find me and told me that his bike chain had broken and that was what took extra time. This was so huge. He sought me out on his own to tell me. There have been times when something similar happened and he just put the bike in the shed, pretending nothing was wrong with it. Then he would sit down at the table and pretend that he had been home for a while all ready and had been reading.

And he told me what appears to be the truth. (understand that I am fully cognizant that there may be a whole lotta info on how the chain broke that wasn't shared--I simply do not care!) So this morning we'll drop the bike off to get the chain fixed and even though it will cost some dollars, i am still so very happy!

Kids Styles

I was reading a blog where a mom was asked by her daughter if she could get her nose pierced. Daughter is 14 and has behavior issues. Mom is clearly grossed out at the request. I tried to write something supportive and thoughtful in response to her post. But it got me thinking as the day went on.

One of my clearest memories of feeling angry and betrayed as a kid happened when I was much younger than 14. I was about 11. I was a child back in the day when you went to a shoe store and someone actually measured your feet, studied them and decided what would be best for the health of your feet. Sadly for me, this led to a long affair with oxford tie shoes. I had blood red ones. I had brown ones. I had black ones. I had black and white ones and black and tan ones. But they were essentially the same shoe. Assured by the salesman that these would cure some alleged problem with a foot turning in, my mother dutifully bought these infernally ugly shoes for me year after year.

And the problem is, I was born with a love of shoes that rivals that of the (in)famous Imelda Marcos. I adore shoes. Not the ugly things I had to wear. REAL shoes. Shoes with heels. Shoes with straps. Loafers with tassles were the first love. Everyone had them. I begged for them. Money was very tight when I was young. My dad was a teacher. He actually made more in the summer as an electrician sometimes than he did during the school year. Mom explained that my feet needed oxfords to be "healthy" and that they could not afford to also buy a pair of "dressy" shoes.

I thought it over and offered to save all my birthday money and all my Christmas money for a pair of the beloved loafers. Would she then let me buy them? She said yes. I did exactly what I said. And a year later with money in my sweaty hand we went to the shoe store. And the shoe salesman told my mother he could not in good conscience sell her a pair of shoes for me that would damage my feet. (these were feet that were all ready jammed into pointe shoes folks!!) I cried. I begged my mom to let me buy the shoes. I promised I would only wear them 3 days a week, twice to school and once to church on Sunday. Mom was swayed by the salesman. We left empty handed. When I was an adult his shoe store went out of business. I cheered! (well not exactly, but I was pretty happy about it)

Anyway what happened was that since my honest effort and proposition came to naught, I smuggled an old pair of my mothers loafers which were 1/2 a size too small into my school locker and wore them every single day at school. My feet incidently were fine. I have no foot problem. But I think the experience taught me a lot as a parent.

First of all, if I negotiate something with my kids, I follow through. Even if I don't like it, I try to allow them opportunities to express themselves the way they want to. With my eldest this has resulted in a man who occasionally has worn nail polish on fingers and/or toes, earrings and cartilige piercings, unusual clothing such as guitar straps turned into belts and carabiners strung together into the same, unusual hair colors and henna tattoos. Oh and a red sequinned baseball cap one year was a fashion statement too!

I confess to some steering in some areas. I have said that cartilige piercings could only happen in the summer when he was less likely to be exposed to infection. Hygiene is an issue for him. I didn't outright say no to a tattoo but postponed until he eventually just moved onto something else. I have nothing against ink, but know that with his autism he is unlikely to be able to handle the sensation caused by getting the tattoo.

Do I love the way he looks? Often not. There are also times where I have said that certain dress codes apply. When we went to a recent memorial service there were no carabiners around his waist. LOL But to church on Sunday, he can dress how he feels expresses himself provided that he will not injure himself or others. This means I can draw a line if I suspect a danger. For instance, a necklace made of heavy chains that might knock out someones teeth would be a no go!

I don't know how the others will express themselves as they get older. My next eldest is so into sports that it is more about having enough team jerseys to wear than a lot of alternative fashion at this point. I suspect KC will be into the unusual and funky. don't know why, just a feeling.
And Lissa? Truly I don't know. The diva princess is my only daughter and I don't have a lot of experience outside of my own fashion ideas with girls.

I guess my only other caveats that I have not budged on and will not is that my boys can't look "gangsta". I won't let them walk down the street looking to others like they are thugs because they aren't, first of all, and secondly I don't want misconceptions to threaten my children's safety. So we have had conversations about those perceptions and how they can impact our lives.

And I won't let my diva princess dress in a sexually provocative manner because she will, like my boys, be taught to respect her body and to expect this from others. Will I always like what she wears? Probably not. But with those caveats, style is up to her. She all ready has some pretty definate ideas of what constitutes 'pretty' so I know she will weigh in! But by and large I don't think it is really important that my kids dress for me. They need to dress for themselves so that they like the self that they share with the rest of the world. My job is to nurture their spirits so that they have the confidence to do that.

Tale of a tooth

KC had a loose tooth. It was his second loose tooth and he had been wiggling it industriously over the past several weeks. By yesterday it was very loose and when he bit into his toasted bagel it sort of tilted precariously over to the side. I suggested pulling it out. Nope I couldn't pull it out. Nope, he couldn't pull it out. I said OK but by Sunday night, if it was still there one of us would have to pull it out. It looked loose enough that it might not really be safe to sleep with it in his mouth one more night. I asked him if that was a good bargain. Mouth tightly clamped shut he nodded his head. I asked him to shake my hand because that is after all the official seal to a bargain. Mouth still tightly clamped shut, he industriously shook my hand . . . and then took his hand and carefully spit his loose tooth into it! "Ta da! I sucked it out!" he announced triumphantly. The tooth fairy was very relieved!

Saturday Shopping

I hate shopping at the best of times. Today we tried yet again to purchase a pellet stove. This time, we were successful. I am alternately glad and unhappy about this! Glad because our living room doesn't get over 55 degrees without a pellet stove on a really cold winter cold snap. It isn't really uncommon in our area to have cold snaps where it is in the zero or below zero area for a week or so several times in a year. 55 degrees inside is really cold. Particularly when 2 family members are children under 6 and one family member has Reynauds. (me) I tend to look like someone out of Les Mis most of the winter anyway. Even with a pellet stove, our home's temp is about 65 or so. I am comfy a good many degrees above that. So I wear thermals, wool sox, fingerless gloves and usually walk around wrapped up in a polar fleece cloak that I used to snug around me in this weird way that helped also carry the kids when they were smaller. Sort of like an Artic version of a rebozo. They are past rebozos now. I am not sure I am ever going to be warm enough in winter to be past the cloak. Unless of course, we move to AZ.

Last Sunday we went to the pellet stove store. They were supposed to be open but weren't. We called this Saturday before we went over. Seems the owners wife was very ill last week and he took her to the ER. Poor soul. I have taken people I love to ER. I feel for him. But we went today and because we can only use a Thelin stove in our living room. (we have 6 windows in the room and there are all kinds of regs about how near or far from a window your piping can be) and because we have a very weird small footprint to put the stove on, the only model which works is made the by the Thelin company. This is actually a pellet stove that looks like an old fashioned parlour stove. That also sort of works for our house which is a quasi victorian. We used to have the model called the "gnome" and it did us well for 7 years. But last year it backburned and fried out the insides (thankfully not us, though) and needed to be replaced. We were able to buy last years Thelin but a model that is larger than the gnome (basically taller, so it can hold a whole bag of pellets). And for less than if we ordered this years "gnome" version. Plus this floor model even had the pretty trim which our old one didn't as that costs extra and I am cheap.

Except that the need for so many folks to use alternative energies made this still an expensive purchase. Significantly more than we shelled out before when we bought the first stove. So that is the "unhappy" part of alternately happy and unhappy over this. But we will be as warm as it is possible to be in this house this winter and that is good. Now I have to order 2 ton of pellets. Sigh.