Peaceful Birthday Celebration

Yesterday was our angel baby Matthew's would-be sixth birthday.  Sixth.  That is really hard to believe.  Time continues to swoosh on by in all its weird little ways.

Happy birthday, sweet boy. I swear I can almost see you on the edge of my thoughts some days and though I can't quite capture the look of your face, I can almost snatch a glimpse of curly brown hair that I am sure is yours.  You seem tall and still and wise.  And watchful and smiling. And I so look forward to knowing you better.  You are very much a part of our family circle.

I don't think we have ever had such a tender and peaceful celebration of Matthew. Having our little kiddos around always makes things hectic; it can be very difficult to find a moment to do any quiet reflecting or pay loving respects.  Of course I wouldn't have it any other way; celebrating a child who is not here is made sweeter by giving my time to the kids who are here.  But of course I also crave the sacred chance to ponder and wish and grieve in peace as well.  That is why I am very grateful that yesterday was a perfectly sunny and clear day, both in our hearts as well as outside our doors.  

The kids, the girls especially, had a few ups and downs - Bitty gets the teariest and weepiest when we talk about her younger brother.  Bundle this year seemed to grasp a little of what it means that she has a brother not here.  This has got to be partly due to the fact that she is very taken with thoughts of our doggie Alex who left us almost three years ago.  Surely she has no memory of him; she wasn't even a year old when he died.  But she talks about him constantly and includes him in many a prayer, the sweet gal.  And she got pretty sad too.  Sweet.  But really for the most part the kids were kind and gentle with one another, playing together happily for several hours. I couldn't have wished for anything else.

We had plans after church to put together a picnic dinner and head to a quiet park for a few hours but before we could get Troy home from church meetings and get all the food ready, our three munchkins had already headed out to the back yard together and played in a mud puddle for two solid hours.  We got our things ready and then just let them enjoy each other.  What better celebration could I enjoy than my kids loving each other? After a rather arduous cleanup session we did load up the car and head to a serene little park high on the hill behind the capitol building.  As we drove through the sunny streets en route I saw all the families out enjoying the spring afternoon and I wondered if we would have any quiet spot to ourselves; it seemed as though no one could bear staying inside and who could blame them.  However, when we arrived at the park there wasn't a soul in sight; we had the run of the place, complete with a grassy hill and the grandest view of the Salt Lake Valley you've ever seen.

We decided to write our notes to Matthew first - the wind was brisk to say the least and it seemed best not to toy with disaster and lose our balloons before we had a chance to prepare for their departure.  We all attached our messages and sent them off, and then enjoyed a calm and yummy picnic complete with birthday cake.  The breezes were so strong that we had to gather in a pretty tight little circle around our cake and sing as Troy hurried to light the candles - we had about a millisecond to blow them out before the wind took care of it for us.  I loved being shoulder to shoulder around our lemony treat and singing together.  Great moment.  Then we got to romp around for an hour.  And guess what.  The kids did nothing but enjoy us and each other.  A birthday miracle.

I absolutely love celebrating Matthew's birthday.  I don't care how many years go by; we will always do it, partly just to bring into focus the precious lives that we have, and partly to remember our complete family.

Just What IS the Difference Between a Tree House and a Tree Fort?

Let me enlighten you. 

Take one tree house and add:

1 swiss army knife

1 lock blade knife

1 fire starter

1 nickle

3 Harry Potter wands

1 bag Halls Defence cough drops

1 stuffed animal (triceratops)

1 homemade dragon book

2 blankets

2 pillows

1 bag Lay's tomato basil potato chips

1 dictionary

1 composition book

1 novel

1 Nike cap with brim

1 bracelet

1 pencil

Oh yeah, and two 10-year-old boys.

Now That is My Kind of Soccer Game

I can not deny that at 7:30 this morning as the heavens were emptying themselves on our valley, rain pounding in gusty sheets, I was not very excited to wake up our unconscious son and tell him we had 10 minutes to get up and get out the door for his soccer game.  Turns out he wasn't that excited about it either.  But champ that he is, he put on a good face and rolled out of bed, pulled on his cleats and ran with me to the car.  We drove through what felt like torrential rain, higher and higher into the avenues, feeling worse and worse about the hour ahead to be spent getting thoroughly cold and wet.  I guess our little soccer league doesn't call games on account of some rain.  They DO, however, call games on account of lightening. This I learned just as we arrived at the field huddled under our umbrella.  As the parents began to send their reluctant kids, unrecognizable in their slick waterproof layers, out to the field, our two teenaged and freezing cold referees pointed to the sky and shouted that they had seen a crack of lightening and that the game was off.  I cannot say that I myself saw the lightening; it is completely possible that no one but our angelic refs saw it. We don't care.  We were just glad that lightening, imaginary or otherwise, was sighted and that we did not have to face that miserable hour.

You would think that it would make me grumpy to get up, get dressed in woolen layers and galoshes, dragging my sleepy kid along with me only to be turned away at the last moment but truthfully it felt like we had been pardoned. Time to celebrate.  Luckily one of the soccer moms owns a cafe just a few blocks away from our playing field so we had a spontaneous hot cocoa party during our soccer hour.  The adults sat and chatted and laughed and sipped creamy warm things (a hazelnut steamer for me) while the kids gulped cocoa and drew on the chalk board.  And only mildly annoyed the other customers.  What looked to be a seriously rough soccer morning turned into a very pleasant outing for Stomper and me.  I'd take another rainy Saturday morning a time or two before the season ends.  That's just the kind of athlete I am.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

How to Feel Pretty While You Scrub the Floor

Here's all you have to do. Get a friend, make sure she has a sweet little daughter and make sure your friend puts her daughter into sewing classes. You'll need to wait a few months while the sweet little daughter learns some skills. Make sure to be amazed and ask to see her projects. Ooh and Aah. (Don't worry, she'll deserve every ooh and ahh you give out. The projects will be impressive.) Then after a while your friend's daughter will be looking for new things to make because she's already made so many cool things like snap-shut makeup bags and skirts for herself and her sister and holiday table runners. (By this time you'll begin thinking that taking sewing classes yourself might be a pretty good idea.) THEN, after all the effort and time you've put in, your friend's sweet little daughter might ask if you'd be interested in a hand made apron. Say yes. Then, you just may be just as lucky as I am:




I actually really like putting it on before I do the dishes, only I never use it to wipe my wet hands. I'm afraid I'll muss it. Too pretty to get dirty! Actually, it has held up well to a few washes. I find myself keeping it on long after the dishes are done. Not too many of my other clothes have ruffles. Or frills. You would never guess it was made by a 10 year old gal. Thank you, 10 year old gal. I will not divulge your name because otherwise you would soon be overwhelmed with requests for more aprons and I am sure that you are on to bigger and better things by now. Like my prom dress. Now get crackin'.

The Quilt Trio

I was totally wrong in my last post - it hasn't been a full decade since I last quilted. That was just the last time I made a grown up quilt; I totally forgot! When I was pregnant with Stomper I had an idea for a quilt for him, seeing him in my head as the perfect little denim baby. I carefully picked out some great denim fabric and mixed in some reds and plaids. I spent much of his pregnancy putting it together, done just in time for his early arrival.

When he was born it was so big and heavy I never thought he'd use it but now it makes a great throw that he still enjoys. He even took it with him on the spring break trip to cuddle up with in the back seat.

Naturally when Bitty was on the way I wanted to start a quilt for her too. Not having quite the free time I did before Stomper came along I didn't have it completely finished by the time she was born. I love her quilt too - I guess I attach colors to my babies because the moment I found out she was a girl I imagined her as my periwinkle baby. Periwinkle and apple green. Don't worry, I already know I'm weird, you don't have to say so. Anyway, she probably got her blanket around her 1st birthday.

Now my last baby is almost four. I guess I get slower with every child - if we had another one the blanket wouldn't be ready until college! So poor Bundle has been eyeing her siblings' blankets with envy. I bought the fabric (pink and brown) for her quilt...sometime in the last four years. I don't remember. Nor do I recall when I pieced the top together, but it has been a while. A long while. It has been folded and tucked at the bottom of the blanket stack for at least two years.

As Troy was getting ready to go on his trip with the kids last week it occurred to me that it might be the perfect chance for me to have some uninterrupted quilting time so when I wasn't cleaning I was often sitting, watching something fun and sewing away. Miracle of miracles, I finished it just an hour or so before the family returned! Bundle was super excited about it and even woke up in the middle of the night last night to ask for it. (The middle of the night part was less exciting for me but the fact that she wanted it even in her sleep was rewarding.)










I am noticing that Bundle's quilt is significantly smaller than her siblings'. Oh well, I will put on the list of things for her to talk to her therapist about.

What is this Strange Feeling I am Having?

I feel a little disoriented.  Get this:  the house is clean. REALLY clean.  (I know; I spent 10 hours cleaning it on Thursday.) (I bet anyone who has ever been to my house didn't know that there was enough house on which to spend 10 hours, but trust me, there is and I did.)  And now.....two days later....it is STILL CLEAN.

WEIRD!!!

Let me explain.  My sweet husband has started to notice recently a strange glaze to my eyes, a little nervous twitch developing here and there, and that my brain seems to be distancing itself from reality just a bit.  Okay, a lot these days.  He noticed that I might need a break.  And instead of sending me off to some hotel or something, he instead left me where I really wanted to be: home.  And he took our darling kids off to visit the Southern Cousins for a few days.

I don't quite know what to do!  I am so....relaxed. I think that's the word.  I miss them quite a lot, and saying goodbye to them was harder than I was expecting.  But....I'm alone. And I don't know quite what to do with myself. I have gone for long walks, eaten lunch with a friend, seen a mediocre chick flick with The Becky, quilted for the first time in literally a decade, listened to loud music, and even done some writing.  It has been a wonderful gift from my husband and you should know that he is the best.  Ever.

I do wonder, though, if it would be possible to enjoy a weekend like this totally free from guilt.  In a casual survey I conducted over the weekend every mom I talked to said definitely not.  For some reason we are not able to want something really bad, get it, and then not feel guilty about it.  So I will just go ahead and feel a little guilty but indulge anyway.

Okay, the truth is that three nights have been just wonderful enough.  And I have now discovered that if I were ever forced to live alone permanently it would take exactly 2 1/2 days for me to begin talking to myself.  As glorious as it has been to keep a house clean for several days in a row and stay up late reading brain candy books, I am ready for my arms to be around my sweet soft little family.  Sorry, Troy, I didn't mean you.  You are not soft, you are very muscled and firm.  And I also can't wait to put my arms around you.

The Boot Fairy

Also could be called: The Universe Heard the Call of Bitty and Answered With Generosity.

That one may be a bit much.

Just had to tell a happy story - Bitty wanted cowboy boots.  She wanted them bad.  We had had a pair on loan from some friends because Stomper had to use them for a costume for a play he was in at school.  They were way too big for Bitty but she'd slip them on and clomp around in them as long as I would let her.  After I returned them to our friends I head many times from Bitty about her great desire for a pair of boots of her own.  I assured her that I some point I would hunt down a pair at Kid to Kid or something, but truthfully (I didn't tell her this) I wasn't very excited to make repeat visits to the shop just to try to snatch a pair that may or may not be extremely well used already.  Nor did I want to go buy new boots that she would grow out of in as big a hurry as she seems to be growing out of everything else these days.

The very next week I dragged the girls along with me to Stomper's martial arts class where we sit on the cold concrete floor outside his classroom and try to get Bitty to do homework while we wait. (This is the same location as the infamous toy-grabbing-claw-game thing. What ARE those things called?)  After telling the girls 11 times that would not be giving them any quarters to play the claw game, we settled down for the hour and happened to be right next to another mom and son who were doing the same thing we were.  We exchanged meaningful glances and laughed together over funny comments our kids made and eventually introduced ourselves.  Well, just as the big boys were getting out of the class and we all started heading home, she pulled me aside and said, "I know this is weird, but I have these shoes I am trying to find a good home for.  I just don't feel like taking them to the D.I."  Any guesses as to what was in the bag?  Yes, a gorgeous pair of black suede and brown leather kids cowboy boots, just barely too big for Bitty.

Thank you, Universe! (And also nice lady Amy.)

Cookies. And MORE Cookies.

Bitty got to start girl scouts this year, did I ever mention that?  I can't remember.  I was a girl scout for a few years in my youth and I have some great memories.  And some not great ones too....but that's another story.  My sister did Brownies and Girl Scouts with her daughters and I have always wanted to get Bitty involved too.  I was even thinking of getting up the energy to pull a troop together myself when ah-HA a friend did it first.  Yay!  We are now very happily involved and earning patches in droves.

This winter it seems like our main activity at home has revolved around the selling, sorting and distributing of girl scout cookies.  Bitty sold 300 boxes and I was very proud of her but I have to say, the Girl Scout organization doesn't really start handing out the big prizes until you sell 500 boxes, and some people get up into the 1000 - 2000 box zone.  That sounded very impressive until I tried to help Bitty sell, sort and deliver only 300 boxes.  Holy Cow!  My living room was covered in boxes and I felt like we spent weeks driving around with cookies in the trunk trying to get them out to all the generous purchasers of cookies.  It was a ton of work.  For me.  Bitty seemed to enjoy herself immensely.  Even still, I couldn't help but be proud of her.

Look at all the Thin Mints.....

So proud....that I bought her a little memento of her first cookie year. (Possibly her last, though don't tell her I said that.  Oh who am I kidding, people go nuts for cookies and most people we sold to told us to come back for sure next year!)  Since the cookies themselves seem to evaporate instantaneously once you open the boxes they don't make a memory that lasts very long.  Instead as we were depositing the sales money at the Girl Scout Store I came across some earrings that I couldn't resist:

Cute, right?

We earned her a spot at two different camps this summer plus free entrance into a cookie party hosted by the Girl Scout Headquarters.  Part of me hopes that they have more there than just girl scout cookies to eat after all the work we went to to earn entrance.  And part of me....just wants more girl scout cookies and would be perfectly happy if the party were nothing more than piles of Samoas, Thin Mints and Tag-a-Longs heaped upon tables for our enjoyment.  

I will report back after I find out.

An Increase in Pride. And Anxiety.

We are learning, here in the Preslar Household, that March is a busy month in the world of cello. We have had extra lessons, recitals, practice recitals, practice with an accompanist and a whole lot of practice at home to prepare for all of these things. Lotta cello. The culminating event took place on Saturday; an event up at the UofU in which the kids play two pieces before a group of people, three of whom are judges. The kids get feedback and a rating. It is called Federation, and just hearing that word clangs a gong of anxiety deep in my soul that reverberates with a thirty-year-old echo. Yes, I too participated in Federataion as a child as a pianist. No matter how hard I practiced, no matter how well prepared I was I couldn't stem the stress associated with that day. Getting judged. Every child's dream.

You may have guessed by this point that it is possible that I have carried over just a teeny tiny bit of anxiety onto my children. I swear, I tried not to. My sweet cello-teacher sister tried to help me - I know that at her first mention of the very word "federation" I went a little pale and tight in the mouth. She tried to reassure me that it can be a great experience for the kids and that the cello judges are very sweet. I tried not to let my kids know that deep down I want nothing to do with Federation. I can't tell if I was successful or not - the kids had plenty of nerves of their own.

What I did not expect (but totally should have) was how much more anxious I would be watching my children play than I ever had been when I was dong the playing. I was a wreck: pounding heart, sweaty palms, shortness of breath...yeah, not pretty. But I tried to keep it to myself and let my kids develop their own emotional issues. Check back in thirty years and we'll let you know how that went. But what I really want to say is how proud of my kids I am. When I did Federation I had to go in a room all alone with my judges but the cellists do it a little differently and I was able to watch and listen and my heart was just swollen with love and pride. Perfect performances? No, not perfect. But it was so lovely to see them reach inside themselves to settle and calm themselves, remember what they knew, find their own strength - quite empowering.

Sadly, no cameras were allowed in the Federation performance, but the week before that we had a practice recital with a group of Margaret's students. Here they are:

Pinewood Derby, Take 3

What?  What's that you say?  That having a blog means I'm supposed to occasionally write things down and post them?  Oh ok, cool.  I'll try it.

Yes, hello.  Having a wee bit of a busy month.  Hard to even know where to begin. I guess I'll start at the beginning of the month...

On the first Saturday this month Stomper competed in his 3rd and final Pinewood Derby.  It's a little bitter-sweet!  Troy looked forward for so long to building derby cars with his son and now suddenly they are done.  It was great.  Except for the fact that we procrastinated a bit too long on getting the car actually made so the week before the derby Troy spent every minute of his away from the office time working on the car, as much with Stomper as he could.  And it paid off - for the second year in a row Stomper took 1st place!  Very exciting.

I loved his design this year:  a dragon complete with a row of scales running down his spine.  I think we have spoiled Stomper - it has been so fun to just ask him for his vision and then try to make it happen that he now has no qualms now about coming up with really outrageous ideas. Thankfully Troy is quite ingenious and made it happen.  It was a good looking car.

Also in on the fun this year was Bitty.  She clearly remembered how last year the younger sister of a scout made a cool pink station wagon kind of car and entered it into the exhibition race at the end.  Bitty begged to have a car in the race this year too and we couldn't help but give in - after all, it was the last year we would be invited to be a part of the race and Bitty doesn't have the chance to do anything else like it.  So next to Stomper's sleek and scary dragon we had Bitty's tall blue station-wagon looking thing.  Actually we decided it looks a lot like a Toyota LandCruiser FJ60, and thus it is extremely cool. And also faster than you would guess.

Not to be left out (duh, Rachel, why didn't you buy TWO extra derby kids instead of just one?) Bundle saw Bitty's car and promptly began a campaign of her own to get a car in the race.  I knew just how stressed Troy was already to get the two cars done so I couldn't bring myself to ask him to do just one more.  Luckily Stomper had received for a birthday gift a little wooden airplane kit that he hadn't gotten around to building yet and was willing to generously donate to the cause. I set Bundle in front of that with a row of paints and a few brushes.  After an hour it was absolutely covered in multiple layers of bright paints.  It wasn't anywhere near to derby specifications; it did have wheels but they didn't even fit on the track.  That didn't seem to matter to Bundle; she was ecstatic to be in the final races no matter that you had to manually slide her plane down the track.

So, it's been a good run for us.  I'm a little sad to see that era end, and I'm sure my husband is too.  A little. Okay, if he's sad then he's exactly the same amount happy as well.  Those little cars take  a lot of manpower to get built.  Happily, we now have three sitting proudly on Stomper's display shelf.  Plus one station wagon.

This is Stomper's good buddy from his 4th grade class - such a good kid.  He took second place and was a great sport and was hugging Stomper in congratulations.  Another good friend took fourth place - what a great group of boys!!

Could be Awesome, Could be a Horrible Mistake

Over Christmas and throughout the chilly month of January I checked Facebook from time to time and couldn't help but notice the frequent posts of a friend who had picked up his family and moved to the coast of Southern California for a month. He posted regularly about their adventures and made us all extremely jealous. One of the best adventures he wrote about was that of the single gift his children received for Christmas: Nerf guns.  The family spent hours romping after each other, tucking and rolling, dodging and giggling, enjoying every moment of their joyful happy family time. It gave me an idea.....

......for my husband's birthday. Which was on Sunday. I thought our family could have similar bonding and joy and I was really excited.  Up until the moment he opened them. Actually I didn't feel that great as I was buying them either.  Somehow I could sense that this might not be a great idea. That a possibility of disaster lurked beneath the vivid green plastic Nerf-ness.

So, at the end of a lovely birthday weekend for my dear husband which involved way too much Chinese food and a viewing of Warm Bodies, (the cutest zombie romance out there), we had a family dinner for Troy on Sunday evening. I made his favorite meatballs, a recipe which I inherited from his mother at my first bridal shower with the assurance that they were one of my husband-to-be's favorite dishes. It's true. Fifteen years after our wedding he still gets really happy when I make them and they often are the requested meal for any given special dinner. I made a seriously awesome chocolate cake topped with this great non-powdered-sugar frosting I learned about. So good. Very fluffy. I even let Bundle shove candles haphazardly all over the cake just for good birthday-wish measure. All was well. But deep inside I could feel the moment coming - the "this may have been a terrible mistake to purchase four pump-action Nerf guns" moment. Especially with two sets of grandparents watching.

Now, do not fear, Troy received other gifts for his birthday including a subscription to a magazine called The Overland Journal which basically taps him into his dream life. He got other good stuff too, but I knew the kids wanted to give him something and this is what I came up with.  The moment came. He opened his packages and got a little quiet. I think he could sense the possibilities. Possible super fun with his kids and possible disaster. The kids were pretty dang excited and a battle broke out almost immediately, and only one kid almost lost an eye in the first five minutes.  (Stomper. Bitty has either really good or really bad aim.) Troy and I began declaring rules loudly and quickly. And actually, once the initial chaos subsided it really was fun. We set up a target of a pyramid of plastic cups and the kids were delighted by their successful shots. You should have heard Bundle's elated "YESSSSSS!!" complete with fist pump every time she hit a cup.  I felt better. I think we can actually have some fun with these things.

Now I am not saying that we have forever averted any trauma but we are off to a good start.

Happy Birthday, Troy.

Oh Yeah....That Valentines Thing....

It has been so long since I have taken the opportunity to sit down and read over the blogs of many friends and since it happens to be the end of February I am noticing many posts about the many ways they all celebrated Valentines Day.  Oh my gosh, everyone, you are hard working and very adorable!  What a lot of work people go to to celebrate their love for their kids and friends.  And I thought back....what did I do for Valentines Day?  Uh, pretty much nothing.  Oh no wait, I totally did something.

There. Heart-shaped pancakes complete with pink food coloring.  See, I did something!  Oh yeah, I also bought several boxes of "fun dip valentines" for the kids to write their names on before handing them out at school.  It was very upper-crust, I'll tell you.

I felt kinda bad, actually. I mean, it some ways it felt good to just let go of staying up until 2am making something homemade, that was fine.  Very liberating. But I did have an idea to write each of my children a love letter about how special they are and have it on their plates in the morning.  Yeah, didn't happen.  (Same week as Teacher Appreciation Week.)  But guess what.  My kids were absolutely delighted with the pancakes.  Thrilled.  They thought it was the coolest thing, hooray for me, and my kids are not allowed to read any of your blog posts about Valentine's Day!

A Long Awaited Long Weekend

Having been living in the great arctic valley of Salt Lake for weeks of inversion and cold and snow, we have been placing all our hopes and dreams of warmth and happiness on this, Presidents Day Weekend.  Pretty much the day we returned from our last trip to St. George we started planning our next visit, seeing as how we spent all of the last one feeling like total crap and letting Peter and Sheri watch our children while we slept. For weeks we have been sitting on our couch, encased completely in blankets and watching the bleak weather forecast.  With each sub-freezing temperature we see we look at each other and say, St. George....we're coming....we're coming....

I'm happy to report that the weather did us right.  And this trip couldn't have come at a more perfect time.  Presidents Day fell at the end of Teacher Appreciation Week, of which I was in charge and which was great but quite stressful and super super busy.  And filled with many many things.  Many. Getting in the car on Friday afternoon and heading off on a long drive has never felt so wonderful.  Thank you, Peter and Sheri, for being happy to have us, and thank you, St. George, for giving us the best possible weather you could in February.  I forgot what sunshine even felt like.  And short sleeve shirts. 

Do I complain this much every winter?  Don't answer that.

Anyway....all the Preslars feel better and feel like we can head back to Salt Lake in good spirits, ready to face a week of snow storms.  Well, almost ready.

Behold her Hulk-like strength as she bends the bar of steel....

How to disarm a Nuclear Mother

I am going to try to capture this with words but I’m not
sure that I’ll be able to.

Picture this.  I’m in
the kitchen doing dishes while Bundle is playing in the living room with a
friend.  I have given them a bowl of
popcorn as per their request and I am listening to them munching happily away
on it.  I poke my head into the living
room for a quick peek, and see that the munching sounds are not coming from
where I thought they were.  Instead,
Bundle is systematically removing the popcorn from the bowl one kernel at a
time, placing it on the carpet, and soundly squashing it with her water bottle.  I yelp, call out her name and demand she stop
instantly.  I go to fetch the vacuum
cleaner and when I return I find that she has indeed stopped with the popcorn.  Instead she has up-ended her water bottle
which is actually full of milk.  She is
dousing each squashed kernel very carefully, one by one.  I fall to my knees, hollering at her to
stop.  She looks startled for exactly one
second before she puts her hands on her hips and bends towards my furious
face.  She smiles, points her finger at me,
and says with a deliberate cadence, sweetly tapping my nose with each beat, “Well, I won't...do it...a-gain.”

How was I supposed to keep a straight face?  There was no way.  Too funny. 
She knows how to get out of a pinch, I’ll tell ya. And I still really didn't capture it at all, but I tried.

The CLLLAAAAAWWWWWW.....

(You know, from Toy Story? The Claaawww?)

Stomper has been attending this martial arts class once a week at a local community center.  We started up a few weeks ago, having come to the realization that we are probably done with soccer.  He’s been playing on the same team since 1^st grade and just doesn’t love it. He loves his team, he just doesn’t care that much about soccer.  We really want him involved in an activity he cares about and is excited to do – I’ve always known it would be something like this.  It’s going great and you should see him practice at home.   I guess that’s a post for another day.

Someone at the community center thought they had a brilliant idea and installed, right in there with the vending machines, one of those 50 cents-a-shot machines with the dangling silver claw which hovers over a tempting bed of stuffed animals just begging to be won and taken home to a happy family.  My girls spend the entire hour of martial arts running back and forth between me and the machine, asking every 3-4 minutes if they could please please PLEASE try to get an animal because they are just sure sure SURE they can do it and they know exactly which one they want and please please PLEASE!!!  Finally a couple of weeks ago Bitty actually brought her wallet with her in absolute determination.  Well, I thought, I guess it’s time for Bitty to have one of those really tough learning experiences.

I was there with a friend and we both had a serious conversation with her about those tricky machines that are made to look easy but really are trying to trick you into giving them all their money.  She was not to be deterred.  So my friend and the girls and I walk over to the machine.  My friend looks at me and asks me if Bitty is going to cry when she doesn’t get the toy.  I told her of course and said, “Watch this. “ I turned to Bitty and asked, “Hey honey?  Are you going to be okay if you don’t get an animal?”  Bitty instantly began to tear up and very shakily said, “Well, I’m going to try to be okay but I’ll probably be really really sad.” And a tear slid down her cheek.  Great.  She’s crying before we even do this.  Oh well, I’ll be a good mom and let her go for it!

You already know what happened, I know you do.  It was just like the time I was a kid and our family was on vacation, driving through Vegas on our way someplace.  We stopped at a diner for breakfast, and each table had a little mini slot machine sitting on the tabletop.  My dad goes, “Kids, I want you to see how gambling never pays.”  He drops two quarters into the machine, pushes the pulsing little button and….wins ten bucks.  That was funny enough, but the fact that he instantly put another 50 cents in and won another ten bucks did nothing to teach his kids not to try it ourselves.  Yes, Bitty plopped in her two quarters and on the very first try landed herself a little toy.  I could not believe it.  The second that round little plush pig dropped through the hole, my friend and I looked at each other and after one moment of shocked silence started laughing so hard we made a bit of a scene.  We laughed and laughed, and Bitty was absolutely beside herself with joy.  How funny.

Funny, that is, until every kid in the joint heard about it and came running with their own quarters.  Whoever installed that thing really is a genius because kids were plunking their money in faster than I eat popcorn and I saw no other victories.  By this time Stomper was out of his class and was in the hole a dollar and a half to his sister trying to get his own toy.  Bundle was sobbing because I tried to get her a toy too and totally failed – she had spotted a little purple turtle at the very bottom of the pit and had her heart set on in.  In fact, she still does, 10 days later.  She even woke up sobbing in the middle of the night 3 days ago and when I asked her what was wrong she only said that she just really needed the purple turtle. There were crying kids everywhere.  It was mayhem.

So does anyone know what I WAS supposed to do?  What would have been the correct answer in this situation?  Because I don’t.  Someone forgot to give me my parenting manual on this one. 

The pig is actually pretty cute, by the way.  His name is Wilbur.