Saber Sorrow

My children have discovered Star Wars. In many households, this would not be a catastrophic discovery, but in this house, we have four boys. Too much force it is.

What's this Cardboard Thing with Pictures on It?

Why does it feel good to see my children sitting around the kitchen table playing Chutes and Ladders? Yet, seeing them in their respective bedrooms playing PSP and DSI brings no fuzzy feelings.

I have always loved board games, cards, and dominoes. I do enjoy the occasional video game, but I love the human interaction and physicality that comes with games like Monopoly and Uno. I think kids like those things too. It is ironic, but I think my kids like the "novelty." For me, it is the nostalgia.

I am always happy to retrieve the games for them from the closet, even though I know that, in this house, a board game never ends well. They end with silver thimbles thrown on the floor, or maybe a preschooler throwing himself on the floor. Dice are rolled, then eyes are rolled. Tears and tantrums. Yes, we have sore losers. Often, games are played too close to bedtime for tiny temperaments to handle. Then there is the cleaning up (or not) of little pieces, fake money, and flitting cards.

Why do I still enjoy handing them Operation or Connect Four? You see, all that fighting and frustration is good for them. Video games bring frustration as well, but a computer won't talk back or fight. It is good for children to work out these human conflicts and have a little fun while they're at it. They also practice different skill sets playing a board game than with a computer game.

Secretly, I am glad board games, flat, non-animated, and sans flashing screens, still entertain my children. It means they still have innocence of some sort. They aren't completely spoiled by modern technology.

I'm sure I'm not the only parent who gets an uneasy feeling by the fact that my kids know more about computers (or possibly everything) than I did at their age. In fact, it is because of computers that they probably know more about everything. This knowledge separates us, and it does so early. My three-year-old is already joining the ranks of the computer literate, as are most three-year-olds.

So help me Candyland. Work your magic, Slap Jack. Keep them a little longer laughing at the kitchen table. Sibling rivalry, you're OK, go ahead and stay. It's better to play and fight than to never play at all.

Brotherly Love

Today I was making turkey noodle soup for dinner. As I was pulling the meat from the frame, I gave the wishbone to J.T. and Bubble Boy. I told them each to take a side and pull while making a wish. I forgot to mention wishes are made silently, and so they both excitedly blurted their wishes out loud.
As they yanked on the greasy bone, Bubble Boy said, "I wish that J.T. and I will never get hurt again." I will never forget that sweet face, still healing from a run-in with the bedroom door frame, and that four-year-old voice wishing not only for himself, but for his brother. *sigh*
Meanwhile, J.T. exclaims, "I wish Bubble Boy were dead!" Do you hear all the movie sound effects for "the fun has ended"? I took the bone and asked J.T. why he said that. I suppose he could tell from the look on my face he had chosen the wrong wish. He ran from the room, and when I caught up with him, he was tearing up. I asked him if he was kidding. He had a confused look on his face, and I think his wish was just the act of repeating a line he had heard other kids say about themselves, siblings, parents, etc. It was a stock answer. J.T. has never said anything like that before, and he and Bubble Boy love each other and are best buddies.
He finally said he was kidding, and apologized to Bubble Boy, who was horrified and crying. He gave J.T. a hug, and all was well (except Bubble Boy might sleep with his eyes open tonight).