The Supercharged Family Road Trip

Oh, the family road trip.  I remember it oh so fondly wearily from my own childhood.  Mom packed weeks of well-thought out games, books, stories and activities so that we wouldn't lose our minds staring out the window at miles and miles of flat land and a few scattered cows.  Despite all those little extras, things meant to stimulate and occupy a kid for hours, I hated the road trip.  I always got car sick, couldn't really read, was bored out of my mind, and eventually ended up goofing around so wildly with my siblings that Mom and Dad would end up with a one-arm-over-the-seat cry of, "If I have to come back there...." 

Well things are different now.  Welcome to the 21st Century road trip ala Grateful Twin Mom.  Here's how we do it these days.  Wired in.  That's right; you heard me.  Plugged in, dialed in, each with his or her own little screen or headphones.  Not talking to each other--not commenting on scenery--not yelling, crying, or complaining.  T1 and T2 got iPads (for their birthday/Hanukkah/Christmas for-the-rest-of-their-lives) from an extraordinarily benevolent aunt and uncle.  Whole music libraries, math games, Angry Birds (enough said), 5 movies, and 3 chapter books (including A.A. Milne's Winnie the Pooh) provide enough entertainment for weeks, let alone a few hours up I-5 in one super cool laptop device.  DG and I listen to audiobooks on iPods and occasionally, DG will blast E Street Radio on the satellite radio (loves him some Bruce Springsteen).  But when we're plugged in, it's silent in the car.

Now I know the experts feel that screen time is detrimental for kids (twins are 8 now), especially young ones, and that little brains are marred permanently by too much exposure to video images (whether educational or not).  I know that confined spaces are supposed to provide great, built-in opportunities for interacting--commiseration for the shared cramped experience and all, but somehow, this seems better to me.  No one asks me, "Are we there yet?" or "Can we stop? I'm thirsty."  A well-stocked snack bag, bottles of water, and one or two bathroom breaks and we all arrive at our destination happy, still in love with each other and excited to be where we are instead of weary from the trip.

So I ask you, are a few extra hours of screen time too high a price to pay for such satisfaction on arrival? Will there be increased melt downs because of the change in brain chemistry from too many hours with an electronic device? Are there microwaves and radiation seeping their way into my children's bloodstreams because of extra exposure?  I worry about all of this.  But part of being a parent is letting go of the fear that makes us second guess EVERYTHING and just being.  The supercharged, plugged in road trip is just another way that we are just living. 

And while I wonder how all this will affect my children as they grow, I'm guessing when they're grown and look back on the family road trip, they won't be lamenting Mom's angry voice telling them to be quiet and settle down.  That's what I'm wishing.

Okay, gotta go charge all my electronic toys. We're on the road in 2 hours....
 

Boredom, a Boy, and a Roll of Foil

Yesterday I went to pick up the kids for another marathon afternoon of soccer, karate, PTA functions, etc. When I arrived, I hustled T2 to change into soccer clothes, and T1 started in with the whining.  "Where's my DS? I want to play DS?  Why, Mommy? Why can't I play DS  Whhhhaaaaaaa."  This is a battle we have every week when T2 has soccer practice.  T1 rushes through his homework (that he does sitting on the bleachers) and then begs to play with some screen--the DS, his "Pokewalker," my Droid.  We're in a park, for God's sake!  Short of having two broken legs, he should be playing.  PLAYING.  Isn't that what little boys are supposed to do in the park?

Last week, he started in with the "I'm bored..." bull-sh*^%.  Oh no you didn't.  You did NOT just tell me you were bored?!  Boy, you don't know what bored is.  I showed him the perfectly climbable tree right. next. to. him.  I wanted to start with the, "When I was a kid, we found our own fun in mud pies and sticks. Blah, blah, blah," but I caught myself.  Didn't want to let on how OLD I am.  He did end up climbing that tree, and he had fun.  Lo and behold--no longer bored.

Yesterday, once he realized that I wasn't going to go back on my original command about staring at a video game in the park, he knew he had to come up with something else.  Enter this:

 This is a foil ball that T1 made in art class with some leftover foil.  Notice the little indentations for a face?  Eyes, nose, mouth?  It's a guy screaming for a body.  I suggested that we go to the store and buy some more foil.  He could make body parts and put them together.  Toothpicks become the "bones."  He said, "you can glue it for me," to which I replied, "Yeah, and the glue can be like the joints, muscle, and skin."

 

Then, Foil Guy together.  

 

T1 decided the foil man needed a "toy" and he started constructing this: 

Cut to home.  Here I am singeing my fingers with a hot glue gun to get the "muscles and joints" on the foil guy. Fortunately, the toothpicks are providing excellent structural integrity.

 

And then, it was done. 

 

 This little project is a wonderful testament to what kids can do with a little imagination.  T1 is so proud of his creation.  I can tell because at 10 pm and he came out from bed to ask me if it was finished.  He played with it for a minute, making it totter awkwardly across the kitchen counter.  The smile on his face said it all.  He made it--from nothing more than $3 worth of household products.  And he wasn't bored.

I don't want to sound like I never let him play video games or watch TV.  That's just not me.  God knows the TV has a sacred place in our house.  Like everything else, I am in charge of creating the balance.  There's a time and place for video games: when Mom's getting her hair done, at the bank during the signing of house loan documents, or when I'm engrossed in Real Housewives of New Jersey (okay, just kidding on that last one).  The park is not one of those places.  And I can't help but think that he's silently thanking me somewhere in his subconscious for this little respite from the technological age. Long live Foil Guy!

Joy in the Green Glow of the TV Light

I'm folding clothes the other night with the family while we're all watching TV.  It's interesting that I am always busy with my hands doing something--I never just sit and "watch" TV--but they do, and I rarely notice them as I'm busy making my clothing piles.  But this night, I glance back and see my family in the glow of the TV light.  The house is warm, it is raining outside, and the sweet, soothing smells of home on a Sunday night are permeating the air.  DG in the center is bookended by twins on either side.  T1 holds his hand; T2 has her head on his shoulder.  They're all covered with the same blanket.  It's the sweetest sight I've ever seen.

My heart is so overwhelmed by the sight that a little tear comes to my eye.  How did I get so lucky?  How do I deserve this?  My hopes for a family dwindled and all but died in my 30s, but somehow, here I am.

I want to remember this picture in my head, especially when they kids are yelling at each other or I'm frustrated because I have to go in and clean the kitchen after my husband "cleans" the kitchen.  It's a small price to pay for the big joy that family brings to my life.

"This is more fun than TV!"

The twins had a birthday last week.  This will probably be the last year that we give them a party for ANYONE they want to invite.  Both invited their whole class.  T1 invited the Cub Scout troupe, T2 the soccer team.  We expected about 30 kids at this party.  It was absurd.  We booked an indoor playground (I know it's California and it was about 77 degrees outside, but still) for two separate parties with two separate cakes, snacks, paper goods, and goody bags (don't even get me started on the goody bags...).  We had light up Mickey Mouse ears for 50 people.

While all of this seems like a lesson in excess, it is nothing compared to the haul of gifts they got.  Gift cards, Lego sets, books, Barbies, science sets, and a marshmallow shooter (coolest toy ever. Really).  I mean, the living room looked like Christmas morning.

I marveled at how generous all of their friends were.  Way more than what their Christmas will look like this year.  And I wonder about the message associated with all these gifts.  While the kids were appreciative of what they received, I wonder if they will have a sense of entitlement at all gift-giving opportunities.  Will they expect extravagant gifts from their friends next year?  From us?  What about giving back? 

But something wonderful happened.  They began playing.  They opened Legos and built them.  They colored, they read.  T1 said, "this is more fun than watching TV!"  That's when I knew there was some redemption in it all.  If I can pay this generosity forward by raising self aware kids who want to explore their world instead of being told how to react to it, I'll be very blessed.