If I had a gold brick for every time I have said, “Boy, I can’t wait until the boys are old enough to (insert the “to do” action here)”, I’d have enough gold bricks to at least build the P&P dogs a blinged out doghouse worthy of something from “Pimp my Crib.” But I’ve discovered something over the five years that I’ve had kids, during which time I have uttered the above phrase more times than I can count–“You never quite reach the point that you were hoping you’d reach.”
Nope; it doesn’t matter what you wished for…what you hoped your kids would one day be able to do…when that day comes, the reality is a sad, sad version of what you’d hoped.
Shall I explain?
Potty training — MLI developed chronic constipation at the age of 1.5 years. He’s been on low doses of Miralax since then. How many times I prayed that he’d normalize and be able to use the bathroom myself, I can’t tell you, but it was a lot. When he finally did become potty trained, it wasn’t quite the bar mitzvah I had envisioned. Rather than getting all jiggy with it, I discovered that I still had to wipe him. What a crock!
Mobility — When MLE was born, I counted down the days to when he was old enough to run around with his brother so that the two of them could play together and MAYBE give CareerMom and me some peace and quiet for a few moments each day. He started walking on his own around 10 months. Today, he doesn’t walk anywhere–he runs–usually while holding one of his older brother’s toys while the two of them run screaming like banshees until one or both of them take a tumble and smack their heads up against something hard and wooden. So, not only do we not get any peace and quiet, but we also have to console each of them multiple times daily for boo-boos they got while doing things they weren’t supposed to be doing in the first place.
Which brings me to what made me think of this whole topic–Video Games. Ah, the father-son Shangri-La, the video game years are. What dad doesn’t dream of spending hours with his son sitting in front of the Playstation, X-box or Wii, playing today’s hottest video games while mom goes out and does her own thing, not caring that her kids aren’t outside playing. I’ll admit…I couldn’t wait until MLI was old enough to play the Wii with me. Over the course of my lifetime I have owned a Commodore 64, a TI-99-4a, an Atari, a Playstation, Nintendo and now a Wii and I have spent literally hundreds of hours trying my best to beat games like “Zelda,” “Castlevania,” “Mortal Kombat” and the like.
Last year I bought a Wii for Christmas and since then, MLI has learned how to play, sort of. First, I picked up Mario Galaxy, but the topsty turvy, playing upside down while needing to jump to the right was just too much for a brain that was still developing, to say nothing of MLI. So then I picked up Lego Star Wars and again, at first I thought it was too much for him. He was a brick at first, not being used to using both hands to do two different things; but, five-year-old brains are like sponges and he quickly picked it up. But there’s a problem; he doesn’t get the concept of a puzzle, or an adventure. He approaches a video game like a 16 year old boy approaches sex…something to be dispatched and conquered as quickly as possible. There’s no time to look around or to try to find all the little “treasures” embedded in the toy. No sir, it’s all about getting to the end as quickly as possible!
This annoys the ever-lovin’ crap outta me for a couple of reasons. For one, video games are expensive and blowing through them like he wants to, means that we go through a video game quicker than…well…again with the 16 year old male and sex, which also means he wants to buy a new one every month (and they ain’t cheap!). Secondly, I like to look around the game. I want to enjoy the experience and see what took a dozen developers the better part of two years to create. To me, that’s half the fun.
MLI couldn’t care less…that is…until he gets stuck and can’t figure out the puzzle that’s required before he’s allowed to move on in the game and then he suddenly wants daddy’s expertise. Pshaw!
So parents, take it from me–Wishes are like a box of chocolates…