Leapster2: Input, Advice, Thoughts

Just a quick post/poll/solicitation of advice; apologies to my FB friends who are seeing this twice.

Do any of you have a kid or kids with a Leapster2? M&R got them for their b-days (although they don't know that yet) and I'm just wondering what to expect. Is it actually educational? They each get one free download from the list below; any recommendations?

1. Dragon Kingdom. Teaches: letters, numbers and drawing.

2. Chicken Coop. Teaches: letters, matching and memory skills.

3. Rabbit River. Teaches: letters, numbers and shapes.
4. Shape Shop. Teaches: shapes and matching skills.

I'm not very excited about entering the world of videogames, handheld devices, and high-intensity marketing to kids, but M&R have seen the boxes for these devices on our bookshelves and know that *something* is up. In addition to tips on what to expect in terms of educational v. entertainment value, I'd appreciate hearing what your experiences have been in policing use of devices like this and what kinds of ground rules you've set. I realize that much of that is kid-specific; I can tell you already that Maddie will be self-regulating on something like this whereas Riley will be completely obsessed to the exclusion of everything else until one day he moves on to something else. But general guidelines/impressions/thoughts are appreciated.

Cliché, but true: they grow up so fast. I'm not ready for this!

Bowling Birthday

Riley had his birthday party today. It was at the local bowling alley. Unlimited bowling plus pizza and drinks and balloons made for a very, very fun event.

It was so much fun for me to see Riley with his friends. He invited five boys: four from his class plus a cousin, and then Maddie was there as the "bonus kid." Oh, and Riley invited our former neighbor, his football/general sporting buddy we'll call Indy. No one cried, no one got hurt, the kids took turns without being told to, there was no cutthroat competition, no overly rowdy behavior, and there was lots of camaraderie, support, hugging, and good sportsmanship. It really could not have gone better.

I've heard that these are the magical years, these early grade school times from five-ish to eight-ish. I've also heard lots of things that turned out not to be true about sleeping and tantrums and improvements in attitude or other behaviors that turned out not to be true. But this mythical idea of magical years, golden years, I'm starting to buy it. We have so much fun together now, me and Maddie and Riley. The kids are, for the most part, rational beings. Funny, smart rational beings, to boot. They are personable and curious and unendingly friendly. They are generous and kind and just plain happy. Sure, I'm biased. But they're pretty darn awesome.

I remember reading parenting books and advice columns and such in which people would express concern about how long it took them to feel really bonded with their kids. There's an expectation that if you parent someone that the bond is near instantaneous, the connection undeniable. I was always relieved, if a bit ashamed, to find that I wasn't alone in not feeling that immediately after Maddie and Riley were born. Oh, sure, I loved them immediately. But it's different now, and much, much deeper. I don't know how to explain it, exactly, and I'm way to exhausted to even be trying right now.

So I'll go to bed. Tomorrow will be Maddie's party. This is the first year they are having separate celebrations, and hers is unlimited rides on a fantastic local carousel + sack lunches + face painting. Riley is her "bonus kid," of course.

Everything feels different this year. I like it.

Calling all LEGO enthusiasts!

Riley and Maddie will be five on Wednesday.

FIVE.

Whoa.

I have quite a few things to say about that, but for now, I have a more practical matter to attend to.

Riley is obsessed with LEGO bricks. I managed to secure a huge plastic bin of such for a great price on Craigslist, and this will be young sir's birthday present. The bin included 20-ish instruction booklets, and I had intended to sort through the bricks, bagging each set with its accompanying instruction booklet.

Is anyone with LEGO brick-obsessed children laughing at me right now? Or at least, more kindly, groaning in empathy?

Yeah. I spent about 30 minutes sorting before I realized that my venture was entirely futile. It would take days to sort through this many LEGO bricks in any meaningful way.

Which raises* the question: What is the most meaningful way to sort out LEGO bricks?

For those of you with children who love LEGO bricks, how do you manage the insanity that is putting some kind of order to the brick chaos? Is it better to sort by color or by shape? Or both? Is there any kind of organizational system worth investing in, or is some kind of home-grown solution the best?

Riley and I need your help.

*(but does not beg)

My Eyes Are Dim

I've needed vision correction since I was ten years old. I started with glasses, then got soft contacts, then switched to gas permeable contacts and have worn those for twenty years. Twenty years! I am no longer in the bloom of youth [hint: foreshadowing!]

I've never had great luck with eye doctors. I seem to have a knack for finding the strange ones. I've had one that was downright creepy and many that were just socially inept. I found a good one in Boston, but only got one visit in with her and then she went on maternity leave. Then I moved to Oregon. So much for that.

Right before we moved to our new house, I dropped my right lens down the drain. This happens every few years and is the event that forces me to get my eyes checked and freshen up my contacts. When I dug out my old prescription, I was shocked to find that it had been four years since I last had new lenses, so it was time. I called my HMO and made an appointment, which I finally had today.

My new doctor seems fine. He was professional and straightforward and he can make reasonable chit-chat. He is not creepy. He has a French last name. And it's not his fault that the rational, scientific reply to my query about LASIK surgery was, "You're a great candidate, in terms of your eyes. But at your age, it might not be worth it. Depends on your goals. In five years, maybe sooner, maybe a couple of years later, you're going to need reading glasses, so LASIK won't keep you glasses-free for long. And so if you want to be totally glasses-free, you probably shouldn't bother. Not at your age."

Here's to being almost 40! Most days, I honestly don't care, but I'll confess that this particular conversation threw me for a loop. I'll try not to hold it against poor Dr. Frenchyname.

Shiny and New

We have a new house.



(Sorry, no pic with the kids, but more to come.)

It's not the brand-new, LEED-certified home I blogged about months ago. Instead, it's a new old house, with bones from 1910 but delicious, recently added modern amenities. It has four bedrooms and three bathrooms (SO POSH) and a freestanding garage and a castle playground in the backyard (why did I not mention that first?) and best of all, even though we've only been there a week, it feels like home.

I obviously didn't blog about the buying process, and I only minimally mentioned it on Facebook. (I never mentioned it on Twitter because I still can't figure out why I should want to be tweeting.) The short explanation for my silence is that I was overwhelmed by writing about it. I could not figure out how to start, so I never did. And now it's done.

It's not that there wasn't anything to blog about during the process of buying the house. I don't think any home purchase is without some drama. There was elevated radon and contaminated soil and shenanigans with mortgage lenders and city permits that had not been closed. Then my landlord went off the deep end and I had to have some heated negotiations with her around renters' rights. As I am awaiting the return of (some? all? none?) of my deposit, those negotiations may not be over yet. Dealing with my landlord was the most frustrating of any of this ordeal because I think she and I both felt hurt and hoodwinked, and each of us felt in the right. So icky. But mostly over.

So, yeah, the stress of the whole process played into my silence as well. But I also felt, for the first time in a long time, like keeping this one close to the vest. This was a huge thing for me, buying this house. It was an emotional sea change to want to own, a huge financial step, and a logistical mountain. I've never felt so much like a legitimate grown-up as I did when I signed those papers, got those keys, and walked in the front door for the first time. I did this myself, for my little nuclear family, and while I certainly talked about it quite a bit with my nearest and dearest, I wanted to make this decision and see it through on my own, for me and Maddie and Riley. As I write about it, it sounds selfish or fearful or something; I just don't know how to explain it. I was so fully present it getting it all to happen, and so focused on how it was going to change our life that I wasn't able to write about it and evidently I'm still struggling.

Nothing I have done since John's death, even including moving back to Oregon, feels so much like the start of a new life as buying this home does. Nothing made me feel so trapped as owning my condo in Boston, and it's shocking to me that buying this house has given me the opposite feeling. Well, no, not the opposite exactly; I don't feel free. But I do feel grounded. Settled. It's a choice rather than an ensnarement. It's happiness.