I just came from Avery’s room, where I had to give both of my heathen children a little “talking-to.”
Apparently, they are utterly incapable of imaginative play that does not involve bouncing off walls, jumping on beds, lassoing the dogs, etc. (and, of course, this type of play always, always, ALWAYS ends with somebody crying).
So, just now, for the, ohhhhhh, 2nd or 3rd or 124th time tonight, I stomped back to the bedrooms and “suggested” that the kids find something else to do… something “quiet and calm and indoorsy.”
Of course, when I say this, they both get really quiet and look at me like I’ve sprouted a few more heads.
And then Damon says, “Mom, there is nothing else to do in the house…”
So then I have to go off on a tangent about how “When I was a kid, we didn’t have video games and computers and Club Penguin memberships. When I was a kid, we built villages for our Barbie dolls out of record album covers (the kids are thinking, huh? Record what??). We filled up Zip-Loc baggies with water and wrapped them in towels and pretended they were Water Babies. We listened to our mothers’ country western tapes (huh? Tapes??) and choreographed dances to Crystal Gayle and Eddie Rabbit… we made our own music videos.” [Julie, if you’re reading this, that whole paragraph is for you! lol]
(I must’ve sprouted another head or two at this point because I’m definitely getting that look again!)
Okay, maybe they need a little more guidance…
So, trying to appeal to both of them, I say: “Why don’t you take Damon’s shitpot full of Legos and build a little world with them… build a house or town or whatever… for, uhhhh, Avery’s Polly Pockets! And, Damon, you can use your Hot Wheels and Avery’s Polly Pockets and create a cool Lego Polly Matchbox World. Won’t THAT be cool???”
(Still with the look.)
I’m not sure what they decided to do. But it has been pretty quiet for the past 10 minutes or so. They either took my advice and they’re engaging in some good old-fashioned imaginative play (and thinking their mother must be a genius to suggest such a thing!)… or someone is gravely injured.
**ETA: Just as I was finishing up this post, speculating…
Avery came running out of her room, rubbing the back of her head, and said, “Mommy! I need, like, 3 ice cubes or something… in a baggie!!”
“Avery, how did you hurt your head?”
“Well, I didn’t know that I was going to hit my head on the bed!!!!!”
“WHAT did I tell you about jumping on the bed???”
“But, I wasn’t jumping! I wasn’t!!! I just fell back and hit my head on the bed… I didn’t know it would do that, Mommy!!!”
“What are you guys doing in there, Ave?”
“Playing with the Legos and Polly Pockets.”
I am one kick-ass mom, right?? 😉