You know those mornings when you're feeling kind of blah and in need of a little pick-me-up? And it's post-holidays, and the place is a mess, and everyone is itching to get back to some kind of normal - if your life can even remotely be described as 'normal' even on the best of days - and the Christmas tree needs to come down, and you had to tear up the bathroom a few days ago because your makeup met the inside of the toilet bowl and caused some major problems, and everything just seems a little bleak?
That's when some people might think to themselves: "Gosh, if it weren't for all that unprotected sex over the last decade, I would probably have a cleaner house. Why? Because my childless-by-choice spouse and I would be somewhere tropical for the holidays, getting young tanned cabana boys to serve us non-alcoholic drinks with little umbrellas in them."
Some people might think that, but not me. No way, Jose (or whatever my Cabana boy's name might be). I'm far too dedicated a parent to have succumbed to the feeling that having three kids in a messy house for two weeks with a semi-broken bathroom to boot might be overwhelming and/or depressing. No way. Not me.
Okay, maybe once, but only for a second. Because, before I knew it, Spawnling burst into the kitchen and disrupted my overcast thought process with "Hey, Mom! Look what I can do!"
And just like that, I remembered why having kids is so awesome. My littlest ray of light chased away any negative thoughts. That kid gets cuter by the day. Shortly after that, he stacked a bunch of cups precariously on the table and confidently declared "See? No problem at all. Pizza cake!"
Later on, I decided to put a temporary ban on game consoles and the Nick channel so we could do some "creative play." And believe me, it gets very creative around here. Spawnling amassed a nice collection of Littlest Pet Shop toys over the holidays, so I yanked those out, dumped them on the living room floor, and started pretending.
It took me back to the My Little Pony days of old, where I would brush their pretty manes and send them out to prance around in the field/shag carpet. We would have a good time, those ponies and I; Together, we would work out complicated social situations and navigate the immature waters of schoolyard crushes through imaginary play, all the while beautifying our pony stables with pink furniture borrowed from Barbie.
So, when Spawnling took an interest in Littlest Pet Shop animals and their accessories, I knew this was an activity I would shine at. I would show him the ropes of quiet floor play, and draw my boy into the wondrous world of make-believe that had a whole lot of interior decorating and a serious lack of fight scenes. With three boys in the house, we see enough fight scenes, thank you.
... And then the seven-year-old and thirteen-year-old gremlins came over to ask what we were doing. We were at the museum, I explained to them. Would they like to grab a Pet Shop friend and play with us? I knew I had them: With no computer or console games to entertain them, what were they going to do? They had exhausted drawing and various board and card games, so they had little choice. It was visit the makeshift museum I had made, or be bored to tears.
They picked up a character to play with.
"But, you know..." thought Intrepid aloud. "We could always build Spawnling's Pets an entire city."
"With Lego and stuff!" Gutsy jumped in excitedly.
This was going to be great! My boys would make a cute little town for their brother's toys, and they would all play happily with something outside their comfort zone.
Retrain the brain, Maven. Show those boys a new way to play! Better start patting that back of yours, because you are an awesome freaking parent.
Before long, the city took shape. Of course, there was the museum designed by yours truly. This would obviously be the standard for all the other smiley-happy-friendly spots in the town. While the gremlins continued their creations, I went into the kitchen to make some coffee.
When I came back with a cuppa, there was a park, complete with slide and merry-go-round. Very cute.
Oh, and look! A zoo with the Madagascar crew in it! A little strange that animals would go visit other animals in a zoo, but Arthur the aardvark has a dog, so why not? And sure, there appeared to be a UFO in a palm tree, but isn't that part of the 12 Days of Christmas song? I think it is. Gutsy was simply squeezing out the last bit of holly jolly in his system, that's all.
But, um... What was this last thing?
"It's a haunted house, Mom!" explained Gutsy. "And look: The skeleton scares all the animals that go inside, and the knight chops them up!"
Intrepid cried "Cool! Let me try!"
"Me first!" squealed Spawnling in delight, as he rushed over to the knight's gleaming axe with a wide-eyed hedgehog.
I give up.
That's when some people might think to themselves: "Gosh, if it weren't for all that unprotected sex over the last decade, I would probably have a cleaner house. Why? Because my childless-by-choice spouse and I would be somewhere tropical for the holidays, getting young tanned cabana boys to serve us non-alcoholic drinks with little umbrellas in them."
Some people might think that, but not me. No way, Jose (or whatever my Cabana boy's name might be). I'm far too dedicated a parent to have succumbed to the feeling that having three kids in a messy house for two weeks with a semi-broken bathroom to boot might be overwhelming and/or depressing. No way. Not me.
Okay, maybe once, but only for a second. Because, before I knew it, Spawnling burst into the kitchen and disrupted my overcast thought process with "Hey, Mom! Look what I can do!"
And just like that, I remembered why having kids is so awesome. My littlest ray of light chased away any negative thoughts. That kid gets cuter by the day. Shortly after that, he stacked a bunch of cups precariously on the table and confidently declared "See? No problem at all. Pizza cake!"
Later on, I decided to put a temporary ban on game consoles and the Nick channel so we could do some "creative play." And believe me, it gets very creative around here. Spawnling amassed a nice collection of Littlest Pet Shop toys over the holidays, so I yanked those out, dumped them on the living room floor, and started pretending.
It took me back to the My Little Pony days of old, where I would brush their pretty manes and send them out to prance around in the field/shag carpet. We would have a good time, those ponies and I; Together, we would work out complicated social situations and navigate the immature waters of schoolyard crushes through imaginary play, all the while beautifying our pony stables with pink furniture borrowed from Barbie.
So, when Spawnling took an interest in Littlest Pet Shop animals and their accessories, I knew this was an activity I would shine at. I would show him the ropes of quiet floor play, and draw my boy into the wondrous world of make-believe that had a whole lot of interior decorating and a serious lack of fight scenes. With three boys in the house, we see enough fight scenes, thank you.
... And then the seven-year-old and thirteen-year-old gremlins came over to ask what we were doing. We were at the museum, I explained to them. Would they like to grab a Pet Shop friend and play with us? I knew I had them: With no computer or console games to entertain them, what were they going to do? They had exhausted drawing and various board and card games, so they had little choice. It was visit the makeshift museum I had made, or be bored to tears.
They picked up a character to play with.
"But, you know..." thought Intrepid aloud. "We could always build Spawnling's Pets an entire city."
"With Lego and stuff!" Gutsy jumped in excitedly.
This was going to be great! My boys would make a cute little town for their brother's toys, and they would all play happily with something outside their comfort zone.
Retrain the brain, Maven. Show those boys a new way to play! Better start patting that back of yours, because you are an awesome freaking parent.
Before long, the city took shape. Of course, there was the museum designed by yours truly. This would obviously be the standard for all the other smiley-happy-friendly spots in the town. While the gremlins continued their creations, I went into the kitchen to make some coffee.
When I came back with a cuppa, there was a park, complete with slide and merry-go-round. Very cute.
Oh, and look! A zoo with the Madagascar crew in it! A little strange that animals would go visit other animals in a zoo, but Arthur the aardvark has a dog, so why not? And sure, there appeared to be a UFO in a palm tree, but isn't that part of the 12 Days of Christmas song? I think it is. Gutsy was simply squeezing out the last bit of holly jolly in his system, that's all.
But, um... What was this last thing?
"It's a haunted house, Mom!" explained Gutsy. "And look: The skeleton scares all the animals that go inside, and the knight chops them up!"
Intrepid cried "Cool! Let me try!"
"Me first!" squealed Spawnling in delight, as he rushed over to the knight's gleaming axe with a wide-eyed hedgehog.
I give up.