You know how only a Mom can interpret her child's 'language' when they are beginning to attempt to speak in what they think is our language? Well...that's kinda the premise to this little story.
I've been working on Chloe to try to get her to respond to my requests in a more polite manner. Her current method of "NO!!!" is getting a little old. So, my latest quest in the teaching of my very strong willed two year old has fallen short of nothing less than an all about battle of the wills. Often, hers is stronger than mine - depending on the time of day.
My latest tactic on this front is to try to stop the "No's" dead in their tracks. In place of "No" I am hoping to hear something more along the lines of "Yes, Mommy", or maybe, "Yes, Mam". I'd even settle for just a simple "yes", even if it was just a whisper. Anything that is not accompanied by a shrill, whiney, "NOOOOOOOO" and violent head shaking will do.
If one of the 'acceptable phrases' is not uttered, the all powerful timeout will be employed for the eternity of two whole minutes. Enough time should then elapse for my young love to see the error of her ways and thus, with mournful repentance and a new appreciation for her mother's discipline. induce her to say, "Yes, Mam." Do ya think that would actually work in this house?! How about...No.
Now, instead of the blatant "no", I get a passive-aggressive "unh-unh" muttered quietly under her breath. I'm not about to let my two year old play mind games on me - I'm onto her ways. So, I ask her, "Did you just say no to mommy?". Well, now I've just put her between a rock and a hard place cuz she knows she can't say 'no' to me without the perilous timeout, so she just looks at me with those innocent eyes. So, being the bigger person here, I decide to re-phrase my question, "Honey, what are you supposed to say to Mommy?". Well...she knows the answer to that one...you can see her face light up and a huge smile cross her face as she says excitedly, "YES HAM!!".
Thankfully, I'm her mother, so I know she's not subtly trying to call me a pig. I know this is not a passive-aggressive form of rebellion. Rather, this is my sweet daughter showing me some respect. What more could I ask for?
For some reason though, I have a feeling that Chloe will continue with this 'title of respect' throughout her more formative years.
Okay...you so don't want to be our new realtor! My family should come with a warning sign. It should read something like this: We are crazy, we are weird, we often talk to ourselves or all talk at the same time. Several of the younger members often stink quite badly. They also tend to embarrass us with a particular bodily function that we have no control over. If you are to interact with our family in any way - be prepared to laugh, cry, read alot of Dr. Suess, hear many strange, new noises, hold your nose and eat alot. That should be an adequate disclaimer, but I'm quite certain there will be multiple addendums.
So, why all this legal positioning with a family disclaimer? Well...being that we have just moved half way across the country, we've decided we should probably find a house and who better to help us than a realtor? The poor guy never knew what hit him from the moment we were introduced. First of all, he was subjected to riding along in our minivan while perusing through the city in search of new housing. Second of all, we brought the kids along for a full day of house hunting. I would highly advise against this for those of you thinking that it would be a fun, family activity. It's not. And lastly, we have Bennett with us. We are all well aware of his propensity to have poopie problems. He is still in rare form.
At the VERY FIRST house we stopped to look at, Bennett declares, "Mom, I need to go potty." Knowing what lie ahead, I chose to wash my hands of the future mess before it even began and advised him to go talk to his Daddy about it. Of course he had to go poopie and of course he couldn't hold it. So Chuck asks our unsuspecting realtor if Bennett could possibly use the bathroom in this yet unfinished house we were touring. Since it had plumbing and a toilet, it seemed like a good idea. Not.
First, we had the problem of no electricity. So, do you think Bennett would actually close himself into a tiny little powder bath all by himself with the lights off - NO! Even though the entire family is used to witnessing his bathroom habits, we didn't wish to initiate our realtor that quickly. We prefer a slower and more subtle approach when meeting people for the first time and trying to leave a 'good impression'. Well, we can say goodbye to whatever good impression we were hoping to leave. Second, we had the tiny problem of no toilet paper. Thankfully, Chuck was quick on his feet with this one. He remembered a wad of Sonic napkins we had on the dashboard and sent Gavin out to fetch them. Of course, Gavin came back with the entire wad and of course, Bennett used the entire wad.
After we all waited for what seemed an eternity, Bennett was finally done. Shirt was tucked in and pants pulled up far above what most consider 'normal'. Out of habit I asked, "Honey, did you flush?". He gets that fake, confused look on his face signaling that I caught him red handed. He goes back and tries to flush but instead yells, "It won't flush, Mom." This in turn, yields 'the look' from me to Chuck, meaning "you handle it". He braves his way into the bathroom only to find that the plumbing looks to be hooked up, but, ha! what do you know - it's not!
How in the world are we supposed to explain this to our realtor?!? I have no clue what Chuck said, because I was busy changing Chloe and her poopie diaper out in the van. I figured if I left the premises, I could pretend all this wasn't actually happening. I changed her and left the diaper in the car with the doors shut - not the best choice I could have made.
So, I head back into this potential new house only to see Chuck heading back out looking rather agitated. I could only comprehend bits and pieces of what he was telling me but I gathered it wasn't good. It went something like this, "...toilet...no water...can't flush...no water...ARGHHH, BENNETT!!" Come to find out,the plumbing was indeed there, but water was not turned on yet. Chuck went to our realtor, tail between his legs, to inform him of what was going on...like he didn't already have it figured out?!
The guy is very cool under pressure. He gave us his best, "No problem" smile and called the guy who owned the property and gave him a head's up suggesting he might want to get some water turned on before their next showing. Can you believe our realtor actually got back in the car with us? You'd think he encountered problems like this everyday. Well, problem number two was about to be discovered.
We all pile back into our beloved minivan only to be accosted with the diaper aroma left over from Chloe. I forgot to bring it in and look for a trash can. A trash can was the least of my worries when I'm more concerned with how to get my son's 'deposit' out of a brand new house. So, we chunk the diaper to the back of the van so we can 'spread the wealth' and so it's not sitting directly under our realtor's nose.
The one bright spot about our second poopie problem is that it helped us to push aside and somewhat forget our first poopie problem. No family should have this many poopie problems!! The kids were up in arms about how bad it smelt in the car. Thank God for your random trash cans in random parking lots. We drove through several parking lots before finding one where we could unload our 'package' and finally breathe clear again.
Okay, so we're the first to admit we're not ones to leave the best first impression. Despite ourselves, our realtor has continued helping us and for that we are extremely grateful!
Yesterday, the kids needed to be reminded one too many times to not do something that they already knew was off limits. Thus, I had to initiate 'the discipline'. That's always the hardest part. We don't believe in the 'one discipline fits all situations' method. The consequence has to fit the offense and it has to be uncomfortable enough that it reminds the kids that it's a better idea to listen to and obey their parents.
After much deliberation, I decided that sending them to bed an hour early would adequately get the message across. As I was tucking Bennett in, we were discussing why he needed to go to bed this early. He told me, "Mom, I think the problem is that I was thinking too fast. I didn't mean to that." I wasn't the least bit upset with him. But I was astounded with his deduction.
I then went to tuck in Gavin. He told me, "Mom, Bennett was right." He went on to explain that he had been listening outside the door as I was talking with Bennett. He said, "Mom, I think we were thinking too fast - cuz if I had been thinking slower, I would have taken the time to think about the consequences of my actions on others."
The discipline was already working - or, rather, God was already working on their little, sensitive hearts and teaching them the lesson in a way they could understand. Not only did he teach them, he taught me through them.
Next time I want to react to a situation or a person, I need to remember to 'not think too fast' and slow down and consider the consequences of my actions. Thank you boys, for teaching me, yet again, how to listen and learn in every situation.
I never cease to be amazed by the shear amount of questions my children can generate. And that's just during lunchtime. I see either one of two things happening in the near future: 1) I need to eat lunch with a dictionary in one hand and a complete, unabridged encyclopedia in the other, or 2) I need to not eat lunch at the same time as my children.
Since I'm typically the only adult in the room with them, they naturally think I have all the answers to the millions of questions that seize their tiny brains at any given moment. I tend to be either overwhelmed by the magnitude of the question, stunned by the depth of the question, or trying to suppress a grin because of the innocence of the question. And to think my sweet proteges are adding to their brain cells based solely on the information I provide while eating our peanut butter sandwiches...it's enough to make me want to go back for my master's degree...okay, not that bad - but it does bring me to my knees and remind me that I MUST rely on God for all my answers. I'm shaping the way they see their world. What an awesome responsibility!
All that to say...here are the latest, greatest questions I have received (or at least the ones I can remember)...
Bennett asks very nonchalantly, "Mom, do all kids grow up to be Mommy's and Daddy's?" Whew - easy answer. "Most of them do, Honey." But that didn't seem to satisfy his curiosity, so he tried to rephrase his question, "No, Mom, I mean, do some kids die before they can grow up to be a Mommy or Daddy?" Okay, that's a whole other ballgame. Does he really need to know the harsh reality of this world? Sensing that he wants to dig deep and know the honest truth, I tell him, "Well, unfortunately, some kids go to heaven before they get the chance to grow up....But you won't be sad cuz you'd be in heaven with Jesus; only the people left would be sad cuz we wouldn't get to see you till it was our turn to get to heaven. But you don't have to worry about that right now Honey, okay?" He seemed satisfied with my answer and assured me that nobody would have to worry about him. He said, "...okay, good, cuz when I get to heaven, I going to go ask God, 'God, can you make me a superhero now so I can go back and help people and they won't be sad?' and then nobody will be sad, Mom." Hmmm...I'm still shocked that I never saw the whole 'superhero angle' coming.
Next it's Gavin's turn to stump me. Out of nowhere he asks, "Mom, when all the people are gone off the earth, will it be extinct?" What???? I don't know that I can wrap my brain around that question. So like any good philosopher, I ask him a question in return. "Honey, where will all the people go?" As if I hadn't seen the obvious, he patiently replied, "Mom, they'll all be in heaven." Ohhh - I see. All I can manage to say upon opening my mouth is, "Honey, did you read that in Narnia?" "Ya, it said......" Thank God!!! He saved me yet again. This line of questioning had indeed stemmed from reading the Narnia series. Thankfully, I could use my ignorance to my advantage here since I have no recollection of the story.
And lastly, after watching a movie that featured a two-headed dragon, Bennett wanted to know, "Mom, if dragons have fire in them, why don't they burn up?" Thankfully, that just involved a little bit of chemistry and I was able to adeptly explain that the fire wasn't actually fire until it came out of their mouth's, it was just a gas inside them.
My job is done for the day. I have fielded every question that has come my way (even the one about how to make lemonade that I thought should have been a simple answer) and have lived to tell about it....simple questions - in our house, that is an oxymoron.
You guessed it - this is not the "Mommy" who usually runs this blog. The "Daddy" has been asked to write a brief synopsis of two recent conversations with our sons superheroes.
The other day Superhero #2 asked me why I had to go to work. I advised him that all daddies have to go to work to get money so they can buy things for the family like a house and food and stuff. I also told him that one day, when he grew up, he too would have a job and would have go to work and be away from his family.
He was quick to correct me. He said, "No, Dad. When I grow up, I'm going to be a Superhero. I'm not sure what type of costume God is going to give me yet, but I hope its cool." Apparently he thinks God anoints superheroes.
This next story pertains to Superhero #1. A couple of months ago, I went to a neighborhood Homeowner's Association meeting and had my little helper with me. One part of the meeting was a talk given by a police officer regarding starting a local neighborhood crime watch program. About half way through the officer's talk, Gavin whispered to me: "Daddy, if they wanted to talk about crime prevention, why didn't they ask me? I could have talked about fighting crime." I said, "Well, that's because you don't know anything about crime prevention, right?" He looked at me in shock. With disgust in his voice and wee bit too much volume, he said "Uh, Dad. Yes I DO! I'm a superhero!"
I'm not looking forward to the day when they realize that they will not actually become superheroes when they grow up. But for now, I love their hearts.
Romeo, O Romeo, wherefore art thou?
I found him...he is Bennett. And he is only four years old.
That sweet boy has stars in his eyes everytime he sees a girl. She could be older or younger, it doesn't matter. What matters is that she is a girl. He gets the most adorable grin on his face. He just can't wipe it off. He will just sit and stare at a girl he thinks is cute.
Now, he has already given his heart to one girl. He fully intends on marrying her in the near future. But...that hasn't kept his eye from wandering.
The other day we were at the pool. When all of the sudden such good fortune fell upon him. Five little girls come giggling in his direction. What luck! Then all of the sudden the all jump into the pool screaming and laughing.
One little girl catches his eye. She is the youngest of the group, probably 4 or 5, and is wearing a purple bathing suit. I think it was love at first sight. Afterall, purple is his favorite color. He just got some new, purple swim goggles that he instantly fastends on and darts over a little closer to his new love. He then proceeds to stand there and stare at the group of girls for probably 10 minutes. I guess he was formulating his plan of action...how best to infiltrate the group.
He has decided that the best course to take would be the 'look like a fool and make them laugh' strategy. So my sweet little flirt begins his routine. He stands in the middle of the group and hits his head with his hand while simultaneously contorting his face into what he believes to be the most hysterical look he can find. The last bit of his act entails him slithering down under the water all the while, hoping the girls are laughing at the entertainment he has just provided.
At least I was laughing...so hard, I had tears running down my cheeks. He was trying so hard to impress these little girls. I thought it was so funny.
Meanwhile, Gavin has no clue that anyone else other than himself and his imagination are in the pool with him. He is spinning webs, flying through the air and snorkling the depths of the ocean. His imagination is vast, enjoys solitude and sees no need for girls.
But Bennett...he LOVES girls. When I was tucking him in that night, we were talking about our day and I mentioned to him, "You like girls alot, don't you Sweetie." To which he gets stars in his eyes and a look of pure joy came across his face. He smiled real big and said, "Yes! I like girls." But then a moment of contemplation came over him and he continued, "I REALLY like girls, but I don't always like their Mommy's and Daddy's. Especially the one's with crinkily hair. But I like Grandma."
Today at lunch we were having a nice enjoyable time eating when out of nowhere, Gavin decides to inform us of his future career goals. I have NO IDEA how this frame of thought originated or even why he was thinking this far down the road. Evidently, having a plan is very important to him. So as not to delay the inevitable, here's where my son sees himself, say...in the next 15 years.
And I quote...."Mom, when I grow up, I want to be one of those guys that drives the garbage trucks with the green down the sides of it. You know, he's the one who picks up the recyclables. I'd like to do that."
I know he said this aloud for 2 reasons. One, so that all would know that he indeed has a plan. And two, to receive his mother's affirmation and to gauge my response. This is where I have to put aside all my plans for his life and assure him that he will do an awesome job at whatever he chooses to do when he grows up. Then I need to let him dream and enjoy the road that God is leading him down. It's way more fun to experience life together than to force my way and desires on him. However, I personally think all this has come about by reading too much Bernstein Bears Don't Pollute.
And you can be assured that Bennett didn't let the moment pass without also informing us of his adult profession. He is going to be a superhero. Period. There will be no redirecting this quest. He is already too far down the training path to turn back now.
Every family is blessed with unique characteristics (or characters). Sometimes these things endear us to others, often they incite others to steer clear of us for fear of what might happen. I find these peculiarities fascinating and wonderful. At the very least it's something for us to talk about and at the very best they're the ties that bind. What outsiders would scoff at, we laugh about. It's kinda like 'the inside joke'.
Anyways, all that to say, that it just occurred to me today that we have peculiarities too. I think I'm having a blonde moment. Duh! I guess it didn't really occur to me as much as Gavin pointing that fact out to me.
Can you believe that today he told me that I am just like Chloe?!? This came as a rather large shock to me. So I responded appropriately, "You mean that I'm whiney and demanding my way all the time and that I insist on wearing flip flops even when it's 40 degrees out?" He laughed and said "No, not that. I mean you and Chloe are both very particular." That kind of stopped me in my tracks.
He was right. I had no come back. I just sat and mulled that one over for a bit. Once I processed that thought I later asked him to expound on the word 'particular'. He told me that Chloe & I both freak out if anything goes wrong, we are extremely particular about what we eat and how we want things to look (a nice way of saying opinionated, I guess). All VERY true statements. I was shocked by his insightfulness and thankful that he found it something that bonded us together instead of a vice that was a menace to the rest of the family. He just showed me that he appreciates who we are and how we are. I sure hope I send the same message back to him.
Then oddly enough, another peculiarity reared it's little head at dinner time tonight. Gavin blurted out, "You know, I'm not happy about something. I don't like being an odd number." I had to laugh, that is so him - and Chuck. I asked him, "What kind of odd number are you?" (not knowing he was referring to his age) and he looked at me and said, "Mom, I don't want to be seven any more, I want to be eight, then I'll be even." He is so his father's son.
Just last night Chuck was controlling the volume on the t.v and asked me if I ever noticed how he has to always have the volume on an even number. Honestly, that's not one of the things that's on my radar screen to catch. I could care less about even and odd numbers. But how funny is that, that both my sweet husband and son have the same ocd manifestation about the whole odd and even thing. It was such a MONK moment (a hilarious tv show about an ocd guy).
Now that it's in the open, I see how true this trait is in both of them. And that makes me love them all the more. It's the quirks that make us special and unique and teach us how to love each other better.
I need not go into Bennett's peculiarities - they are adequately spelled out in detail amongst the many pages of Mommy Stories.
My boys and I just had the most wonderful vacation. We had the opportunity to go out of state to visit their great-grandparents. What wonderful memories we were able to build. What beautiful views of history we learned of as they told us story after story. What peace and tranquility we lived in for the past week.
Notice, I said the boys and I. Chuck and Chloe had the chance to have more bonding time together at home. We all grew closer together while we were far apart. But obviously, that is not what this story is about. That sounds too 'Leave It To Beaverish' doesn't it? Not all the loving and missing each other stuff, that was extremely genuine, but the part where it all sounds so perfect with no mishaps, that's the part I'm talking about. What could possibly go wrong on our vacation?
Nothing actually. The craziness began the minute we saw Chuck and Chloe waiting for us through the windows at the baggage claim area in the airport. You know how all the new security rules mean that we can no longer drop loved ones off and pick them up at their gate anymore; we have to wait outside the 'secure area' now. It is because of this inconvenient little rule that we once again caused mass pandemonium on all that had the privilege of being in our presence.
Thankfully, the gate where we landed wasn't too far from the baggage claim area. The boys and I were loaded down with bags. Seriously, we were pack-mules. Each of us had two heavy items we were carrying on our persons. (And don't think I wasn't reminded of this fact infinite amounts of times throughout the trip). We had made it through three airports with all this baggage all by ourselves. All we had left now was to make it another 50 yards and we would finally be back with Daddy and Chloe. We were joyous!
Unfortunately, there was the rotating doors that kept the 'unsecure people' away from the 'secure people' that we still had to get through before hugs and kisses could be given. Not a problem, right? Oh no. This would be the biggest problem of our entire trip. Let's see how I can describe this with words in order to give you the best visual description possible...hmmm...
Well, you know how these rotating doors just keep going, they never stop? And you know how they are divided into 3 equal parts? And you know how you're supposed to exit out onto the other side (the 'non-secure side') and meet your waiting family members? Well, that seems to be the confusing part for my children.
Gavin made it into the revolving door area with no problems. Bennett, on the other hand, wasn't sure if he should join his brother or wait for the next go around. One is not given an adequate amount of time to really think through this type of dilemma. It appeared as if he wanted to go it alone, but then remembered that he doesn't like to be alone, so at the last possible moment, he squeezes in with Gavin forgetting the fact that he is dragging his little suitcase on wheels behind him.
Remember, these doors just keep going. There is NO off button. Yet Bennett has successfully jammed the door with his little suitcase and they are stuck in the little revolving door area. Keep in mind, the entire flight is still behind me, also waiting to exit. So now, I have the security lady running over to help me cram Bennett's little suitcase through an opening too small. She now has to pull back on the door to keep it from moving. I'm still holding onto two huge suitcases of my own and shoving Bennett's suitcase with my foot. It's not helping that I'm also seeing a huge red light flashing above my head over the little turnstile door. I'm positive that the FBI, TSA, and Homeland Security will be running through the halls in my direction at any moment.
But finally, disaster was averted with enough pushing, shoving and pulling. Bennett finally made it to the other side and it was my turn to go through. However, just as Gavin and Bennett reached Daddy who was in arms reach of the door, Chloe starts running into the turnstile door and is now stuck inside it going the WRONG WAY. Remember, those people on the 'non-secure side' are forbidden to enter the 'secure side' and here is my daughter trying to reach me and is fully unaware of the security breech she is creating.
Thankfully before any alarms could go off, with lightning speed, Chuck jumped into the revolving door area and yanked Chloe out before she was totally trapped. I was finally able to cram myself and my two suitcases through this cursed revolving door without too much fanfare. My very first thought once I got to hug my husband and hold my little girl was, "Ahh, now we're back to normal!"
Today at lunch Gavin informed me, "Mom, my stomach hurts. It feels like it's giving birth to a whale inside there."
That's a new one. What desperate attempts my child is going through to earn my pity so he isn't made to eat one more bite.
Then it began to dawn on me, where in the world would he come up with such a metaphor? He's never heard me or his father cry out that we are in as much pain as a whale giving birth. To be honest, that mental image, nor thought, has ever crossed my mind.
I chalk it up to his extensive reading. Or his abundant imagination. Or both. Either way, the excuse didn't work. But he did win an award for the most creative reason not to eat his food anymore!
Leave it to my family to almost cause a church lock-down this past Sunday. Easter, of all days. We went to church having no clue the pandemonium our presence was about to induce. What would cause such a hooplah that the church would consider going into lock-down mode? - Bennett! Yep, leave it to Bennett. He's the only one who this could have happened to.
I would say the church we attend sporadically has maybe 1000 - 1500 attendees. Quite large. They just installed this new, state-of-the art computer check-in service that allows parents to check all their children into their appropriate Sunday Schools in no time flat. This was the first time we ever experienced such technology - especially at a church service. So, we go about the routine of checking in 3 children. A little printer pops out a name tag with all their appropriate information. Each child is now donning a smart little sticker on their backs.
We dropped Chloe off first and Gavin second, being that their classes were in close proximity. However, we had to go upstairs to drop off Bennett. But upon drawing nearer to his class he had a change of heart and decided he would rather sit with us in 'big church'. We had no qualms with that, so we all headed back down stairs, never thinking twice about the fact that he was already 'checked-in'. We warned nobody that our child was with us - why should we? Ahhh, but that was our fatal downfall.
Bennett was the perfect little gentleman in big church. He sat quietly, listened intently and never once complained. We were so proud of him. About 10 minutes before the service was a to let out, we saw our number pop up on a screen in the sanctuary. Chuck jumped up and responded to it immediately, fearing it was Chloe.
However, once he reached the lobby, he saw a Policeman and a church employee waiting for him. He immediately thought maybe something happened to Gavin. They then informed him that they had lost Bennett. Chuck explained that Bennett was in the sanctuary with us. After their initial relief, obvious frustration set in - on both parties.
Come to find out later, the church's director of security had his whole team, plus the cop searching the premises for Bennett. They even pulled Gavin out of his Sunday School and questioned him about his brother's whereabouts. Since the church is so huge and impersonal, nobody knew what we or Bennett looked like and so, nobody came to find us in service.
Once church let out, the director of security made a bee-line towards us and informed us of the graveness of the situation we just caused by signing our son in, but not bringing him to his class. He told us that if we had not answered the page in the service, that the next step would have been a total church lock-down. They would have had to interrupt service and inform everybody that we were morons...uh, I mean, that a child was lost and everyone was needed in pursuit of his search.
Thank God we answered our page!!!! We had already caused enough pandemonium. I'm still rather speechless about the whole event and left to ponder 'why did this happen to us?'
I decided that tonight would be a perfect night for the boys and I to live it up and play a few games together before bedtime. We were about to have some major fun. I let each boy pick a game. That is where my plan started to unravel. I should have picked the games and thereby averted a whole evening filled with misery. Let me expound....
Gavin knows me too well. He knows my pressure points and he uses them to his advantage at various times throughout the day. He KNOWS I hate the game "Trouble", yet he 'innocently' made that his game of choice for tonight. My perils with Trouble began the day we got the game and have yet to cease. I've even tried to put the game in the Goodwill pile before and it somehow miraculously found it's way back to our game closet.
For those of you who have yet to experience the joy this game can add to your life, let me give you the simple version of the rules. There is a little dome covered popper thing in the center of the board. Residing under this dome is the lone die (I don't even know if that's the proper terminology/spelling for a singular dice). When one pushes hard enough on this transparent dome-like enclosure, you render enough force to pop the die and make it land on another number. It is the definition of the word random. In order to get your four little pieces out of the starting block, one must get the number 6 to miraculously appear under the dome. Then one may proceed the nausiating, circular journey around the board until you reach 'home'. However, in the process, if someone else lands on your space, they can send you back to start and you must once again produce a 6. It is utterly maddening! It took us a good 15 minutes tonight before anyone obtained this magic number.
What might my problems with the game be? I don't know that there is enough space here to properly address each issue. I think a list of bullet points might aide the reader in understanding why this game vexes me so. Whoever invented this game and decided to name it 'Trouble' might have also had these thoughts parading through his/her head:
1. "You're going to be in big trouble if you ever pick this game again."
2. "If you don't quit popping/pulling each other's toes and move your guy this instant, you are going to be in trouble."
3. "Whoever sends me back to start one more time will have some trouble coming his way!"
4. "Trouble will come upon the player who doesn't know how to count out his spaces properly and/or go when it is his turn without somebody (me) having to prod him (Bennett) for the 100th time."
5. Beware future players, you will be in trouble if you attempt to play this with a child still
learning the key elements of counting who also might be unaware of the term 'strategy'.
Those were but a few of my misgivings during our lovely game night, and that was only the first game. Bennett chose Dominoes as the second game. I previously had no qualms with this game. That is, until the boys 'taught' me how to play. Once Trouble mercifully came to an end (thank God - I won, finally), Bennett immediately starts building something with his allotment of dominoes that were next to him. I asked him, "So, Bennett, how do we play Dominoes?" After receiving the look of 'what does it look like I'm doing, Mom' from him, he placates me with, "Just build whatever you want, Mom." To which I'm like, "Uh, no. These are not blocks. This is a game. Plus, I can't build anything with 7 dominoes."
Gavin, ever ready to lay down some rules, chimes in with, "The rules to this game are...." I abruptly cut him off. After proving that I had indeed played a legitimate game of dominoes at least once in my life, I had gained a little clout and was thus 'allowed' to inform all other players of such rules involved. I'm sure they thought I was making up the rules, the way they looked at me - but they placated me none-the-less. Bennett really didn't understand the basic concept of matching like numbers together. He just picked up any ol' piece and placed it any ol' place.
Gavin thought there must be a deeper meaning to the game and there must be other rules I had not informed him about. He kept trying to come up with new ones. When none of the 'new rules' were given a thumbs up by the expert (myself) the other players then digressed into seeing what type of picture our pieces were making.
Come to find out, our game was really just a knight and each piece played only added to our knight's armor. Then out of the blue, our knight was riding a horse. Then they had a whole story-line going about our domino knight and had long ago disregarded the strategy to the game I tried to teach them.
Lesson's learned: when suggesting a game night, either get the games out myself or hide all unwanted games and let the kids pick from what's left. Who knew we were going to be making a domino knight and pulling each other's toes tonight? I just thought we were playing games...it's always so much deeper with kids.
