the sleppys

I was looking through the local newspaper and found a press release for a “toddler playzone” that offers more play, less structure. “Stay-at-home-moms can come anytime and play with their kids.” It’s an indoor park that is tailored to infants and toddlers rather than older children (i.e. McDonald’s PlayLand). Maybe that’s a godsend to some moms.

But why keep your kid indoors? I understand wanting your baby from getting dirty or your two-year-old from getting his shoes and socks muddy. It’s great that moms and dads want the T.V. turned off most of the day. And there are parents who prefer their kids to interact with the computer instead of the television. But why? Why keep your kids from playing outside?

Even when the day wasn’t particularly nice (as is today), my parents still told my brothers and me to go outside. Besides, once outside, a pack of friends was usually waiting. They, too, had been banished from their air-conditioned homes.

But today, the whole landscape has changed. At a recent birthday party, our kids and I witnessed the opening of presents… first came the Power Wheels motorcycle. Then the DVDs of favorite television shows and movies, video games, and computer-based learning toys showed up. Electronic bombardment. But the point is not learning colors, shapes, animals sounds. The point is human interaction. Technology is unavoidable. Avoiding fresh air is costly, though. It’s pretty tough to get a sense of wonder while pressing buttons – as opposed to exploring your backyard or the woods nearby (if we had any) and turning over rocks to see the universe which lies underneath.

Forget the studies of childhood obesity and atttention defecit disorder and the blah. How do you feel when you go outside? Doesn’t the sky call you some days? Or nights? Isn’t it curious when you see a flock of birds picking their way up the sidewalk, searching for maggots and grubs on trash day? When there is green around me, I feel relieved, less stressed, forgetting the laundry and dirty dishes and the fact that my hair needs washing. By comparison, how do you feel when watching television or clickety clacking at a computer in an paved, non-green area? Isn’t a glance out the window a sigh of relief?

The smarter parents recognize that if a child spends his day glaring at a cathode-ray tube, he is not using all of his senses. Can you think of anywhere, besides the kitchen, that you would use the majority of your senses? Ok, maybe the public bathroom.

Not that I’m a perfect example of what I preach; my kids, too, do not have the freedoms that they deserve as little humans. I fear crime, traffic, sometimes nature itself. And it’s also not about comparing a nostalgic childhood with the childhood of my kids. I’m writing about hundreds of thousands of years of human development. And I’m not writing about trips to Yellowstone or the Amazon. It’s about the nearby nature, that which would instill wonder in a preschooler.

Ty got TONS of that when he was younger, as did Kyle during his first year. Not as an extra-curricular experience, either. Their childhood experience in nature was a vital elemet for healthy child dvelopment. Taylor is missing that. But I let her get dirty. I allow for her to sneak outside and catch a bug or a pebble in her hand… and then pretend, “Oh, my! Taylor! For heaven’s sake. Get inside the house. You’ll get dirty.”

Hi, Mommy

Hi, Ty.

Wha’ you doing?

I’m crocheting.

Oh.

[pause]

Don’t talk to strangers, Mommy.

Ok, Ty.

When I say, “No presents,” I mean, “No presents.” I’m not being modest or humble. I’m being stern. No Presents.
“Well, do you need anything?”
Yea, I need a bigger income and a free babysitter. But most people aren’t willing.
And I also need a broom and a dustpan.
“But those aren’t presents!”
They are to me.

People bring presents, and I end up with a house full of plastic tomatoes. They end up getting thrown in the trash, and who is the bad guy, piling up Mount Trashmore? I am.

EDIT: If you must present a present, consult “the.wishlist” on the right hand column. Please and Thank You.

Dad said it as we were going to sleep: “I’ll be glad when this party thing is over.”

For the past week, we’ve each put in at least 20 hours of preparation for Ty’s birthday party. I made cookies, assembled party favor bags, planned activities, practiced children’s songs, and cut felt to shape them into finger puppets. Most of my inspiration has come from the PBS Parents Guide to Birthday Parties.

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Sunday, Party Day. Guests started arriving just after 2 PM. We got more food that we were expecting, which is a good thing because we don’t have to grocery shop for the next five weeks! Dad turned on the TV to watch the NASCAR race, but nobody really payed attention to it during the party. I had activites planned, but the boys seemed to be having a good time running around, throwing the ball, and, overall, being boys.

I had my fill of popcorn shrimp. The corn chips and pico de gallo were really good, too. I can never have enough of that stuff. Hamburgers, chicken tenderloins, and hot dogs were grilled outside. At 3:30, Dad told me to clear the table of appetizers and get ready for the main course, of which I had none because I was just so stuffed! We were all done with the hamburgers, so the cake was brought out. And a fine cake it was.

Yum.

We sang “Happy Birthday,” which we shouldn’t sing because it is copyrighted, to Ty, and he seemed to enjoy having the first slice of cake. Oh yea, and we had the candles ready to put on the cake, but we couldn’t find them in time for the singing and birthday wishing. Funny thing, Dad ended up finding them in the freezer. GO FIGURE!!! We used a tea lite candle instead of birthday candles. Maybe tomorrow, when we celebrate Ty’s real birthday, we’ll use those real birthday candels. DUH.

Guests left in the order that they came. Michael and Skyler stayed the longest. The kids watched “Cars” on DVD, and Ty mentioned that he really liked birthday parties. hahaha! Funny Ty. We sang a few children’s songs, Old MacDonald, Eensy Weensy Spider, B-I-N-G-O, et cetera. Skyler really liked to sit at the piano and pretend to play while I played. And when everyone’s suger rush caused them to crash, they crashed.

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Today, at Wild Oats, Ty caught a glimpse of a red barn, made of real wood, and totally wanted it. I took it off the shelf to get a better look at it, and I guess that he assumed we were taking it home. Hopefully, he can get it for his birthday tomorrow. His farm animals need a barn.

The house is clean. I’m glad that the party thing is over.

…and onto the floor.

The kids and I went to the grocery store on… was it Saturday? Not sure. Anyway, I had the three of them in one cart while I tried to squeeze in some groceries. Toward the end, Kyle started complaining, “Ma, I want up.” I told him to hang tight for a little while longer, but he was getting louder, so I gave in. He followed me closely for a few minutes while I stacked up on chicken quarters and clothespins. As we turned the corner, I saw that he wasn’t looking where he was going.

“Kyle, look fowa–”
“WAAHHHH!!!!” He fell to the floor and put his thumb to his mouth. He had hit his head against a parked grocery cart.
“Get up, Kyle,” I said, and he was working on his way up when a woman walked around the corner and (all this happened in slow motion) started pushing on the cart. I yelled, “Stop! STOP!” But she didn’t, and with her cart, she hit Kyle, who is rather short, knocking him onto the floor again, making him land on his mouth.

In about half a second, I had five store managers offering me ice, paper towels, a chair to sit on… One lady manager offered popsicles to the kids, to help with Kyle’s fat lip. The lady who pushed the cart that led to Kyle’s fall looked sincerely sorry. I told her that he’d be fine; it’s just a fat lip, and no teeth were broken. But Kyle wouldn’t shut up. He also was in need of a nap, so he just kept on crying and crying.

Note to self: Don’t give in.

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As we are planning for Ty’s birthday party, Dad wants to get the backyard to look decent (instead of all muddy), so he sent me to The Home Depot to purchase some yard tiles and leveling sand to hide the mud – It’s been raining.

I put the kids in the shopping cart and realized – as I’ve never EVER been to The Home Depot by myself before, seriously – that yard tiles weight about 20 lbs. a piece, and I needed 15. Not to mention the 40 pounds of sand. Carrying them from the shelf onto the cart was not the problem. The problem was finding a cart that would carry that weight!

I asked some lady to help me, a “home improvement expert.” She looked like she had borne three kids, and I’ve found that most moms are willing to help other moms. But not this lady. Finding a big metal cart was too hard for her. She opted to help a gentelman who was looking at the bromeliads.

SO, I walked back into the air conditioned part of the store and looked around for one of those hugantic metal carts. Lucky me, I found one on the OPPOSITE side of the store. With my genius IQ and inability to ask for help, I leap-frogged both carts (remember, I’m also pushing the cart full of kids that I found on aisle 12) down the quarter-mile stretch that is the store, the front of the store, where the people pay for their merchandise, where there were 50 people who pretended very well not to see the lady-who-lives-in-a-shoe pushing two carts.

Around the Christmas tree display, an older gentleman/employee named Ed, thought that it would be a good idea to push one of the carts for me. Go, Ed! AND he helped me pile up on on yard tiles, AND he pushed the cart to the check out lanes. He mentioned something about having to go back to his department, but I didn’t mind. That was a BIG help.

All this time, Kyle was wanting to get out of the cart. His fat lip served as a reminder of my recently posted Note-to-Self.