If Trent is working late, there are two main courses of action available to the rest of us. The first is dinner at 4:45, early baths, early books, all kids in bed by 7 PM. The second is to start a major project at 5 PM on the kitchen floor using acrylic paint. Strangely enough, both can be routes to a successful, tear-free evening.
Rush will be the first one to tell you that he’s, “really into art.” I picked up a book of projects for kids at the library last week and he immediately found a service station/gas station for matchbox cars that can be make with stuff gathered from around the house. After their initial evening painting of cardboard boxes, they spent the following day in their pajamas building the service station and playing with it. I’m not sure there has ever been one thing that held their attention for such a long, interrupted stretch.
When I was growing up, our family got together with another family, the Swans, pretty much every Friday night. The parents would play cards at the kitchen table the the kids would play Nintendo or Sonic the Hedgehog on their Sega, watch Willow, or split up into pairs by age, as we were both three-kid families. Katie and I were the same age, girls, and friends, so we were generally able to entertain ourselves. I’m pretty sure my sister and Cory, the middle child set, typically ended up sitting around awkwardly listening to a Queen Greatest Hits cd.
Faced with an endless stretch of Friday nights, Katie and I eventually made a list of goals to accomplish. If only I could remember all of them…the two standouts were Make Hats Our of Aluminum Foil – done- and Build a Dream House for a Bug. We spent weeks of Friday nights working on a small house made of paper and cardboard, complete with rooms and furniture. It was probably about the scale of a house for a larger insect, like a grasshopper.
When I was hot gluing all the pieces of Rush and Tate’s service station together, I was reminded of the Bug Dream House. And by reminded, I mean I really enjoyed working on that service station and I could have sat at the kitchen table building cardboard ramps long after the boys had moved on. And then the next Friday night I could have worked on it some more.
As for the foil hats, some habits die hard. I attempted foil hats as a distraction on our Tennessee road trip last summer, and they are thus far the one true road trip bomb. Not only did they not entertain the boys, but in fact annoyed them to the point of crying and screaming.
Katie and I were probably in 5th or 6th grade when we were making our architectural masterpiece a reality and wearing our foil hats. Lesser women might look back and be embarrassed, but not me. It’s my dreams for my own children. I look around sometimes and see people already trying to maneuver their kids onto the queen bee popularity track. Sometimes I want to sneak another woman to the side of the playground and say, look, your little girl is never going to be Regina George. Can’t you recognize that she’s too sweet and kind and gentle? Just let her be. Kids, keep out of trouble and have fun with your friends. Be confident. Build things on your bedroom floors.
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