By Fire Light

Jun 27

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When my first son was eighteen months old we decided to take him camping. Camping was something my wife and I loved to do and we wanted our son to experience the fun. As first time parents we were a nervous wreck. Camp fires are one of the best parts of the camping experience, but with an eighteen month old running around they are a source of great fear. With two parents and only one child we were able to safely contain him and had a ton of fun. When our second son was eighteen months and our first was four we braved it again. Again we were terrified of having a fire, so we limited it to minimal time, but we survived and had a blast.

When our third son was born we couldn’t bring ourselves to get back out to the campground. When it was a 2-1 and even 1-1 ratio we felt we were still in control, but being outnumbered by little ones was just a bit overwhelming. Just when we thought we were getting to a point where we could take three, our daughter was born and the parent-kid ration of 1-2 sealed the deal, we would be sitting out the camping scene. Of course we couldn’t stay away forever. My wife and I were convinced by some friends we needed to get together and go camping this summer. Knowing it had been over four years since our last trip, we decided to do a test run of just our family so we knew what we were getting into.

We jammed the van full of our gear and other things, trust me there was not an inch of unused space in the van. Picking the camp site was the first challenge. There were many strong opinions about which site was the best and the kids kept saying “just a pick a site as long as it is mine.” We chose the site and the phase II of fun began. Kids love helping, and our two and four year olds helped with great fervor get the tent up. After a lot of re-setting up poles the tents were finally standing so we took a family bike ride. The great thing about camping is there really is nothing you have to do, you just hang out. The moment of truth came when we lit the fire to get ready for dinner. My wife was a nervous wreck, but the kids for the most part stayed behind the circle of chairs we had created as a barrier. We cooked dinner, made smores and other camping treats and just relaxed as a family, well at least as much as you can relax with little ones in the forest.

Bed time came and my two oldest boys climbed into their tent. We laid the two little ones down on either side of us in our tent and turned out the lights. The forest was nice and silent.  “DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDYY!!!!” came the blood curdling screen that woke me from my sleep. My eyes couldn’t focus and it was pitch black, I couldn’t figure out where I was. Then I remembered I was camping and my wife was telling me the boys needed help and to hurry. I stumbled to the front of the tent, got my shoes on while opening the tent and saw my boys flashlights on in their tent. “What’s wrong” I called over to them. “A raccoon is attacking our tent!” they called back. While this exchange was going I was climbing out of the tent, and lost my footing. I crashed into the tree in front of our tent getting a nice cut on my knee and scraping up my arm. I circled their tent with a flash light and didn’t see any animals, but that was no comfort to my sons.

After moving them and their gear over to our tent, we all finally settled down and my wife and I had a good silent chuckle. In the morning after everyone was awake, my sons recounted their harrowing tale. We inspected the tent and found a bunch of small muddy footprints on the back and one side of the tent. A raccoon had pawed at the tent. My sons had seen an episode of “iCarly” where the older brother went looking for a beavcoon (part beaver, part raccoon) and swore it was that which tried to get them. For the rest of the day until we left to go home, every time they heard an animal making sound all four kids would shout out “BEAVCOON!” Amazingly they all are ready to go camping again, but said they will sleep with mom and dad next time. I am sure when they have grown and have their own children the story of the beavcoon will be recounted, with many more harrowing details of course.

From the Silence

May 7

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Snow is supposed to be peaceful right. It blankets the landscape with a silent white that glows when the moon is full. It seems like you stand outside in a snow storm, save the times when people are running their snow blowers, and just revel in the silence. He may be 8 or 9 years old and is in third grade. Sitting, looking out his window he thinks about what will be in his fathers suitcase. It is like a ritual when dad gets home from a business trip. After getting his hugs, dad bends down, opens his suitcase and pulls out a small gift he purchased while away. It is the way, he thinks, dad lets him know we was thinking about him while he was away. So he sits there in his window, waiting for his dad to pull in the driveway, hoping his mom doesn’t come up and tell him to go to bed. He heard the phone ring not to long ago, so he figures that was dad calling from the last rest stop letting us know he would soon be home.

The car that pulls in the driveway is to big, but he doesn’t know it until the glare of the headlights turns off to the side. His excitement dies down but the overall anticipation isn’t dampened. Watching his aunt get out of the car, look up at his window, and then come in the front door makes him wonder. Moments later his door opens and his mom and aunt are walking in to his bedroom. Before another thought can cross his mind his mom sits down next to him and tells him they are going to his aunts house. He sees the tears now, in his mom’s eyes, that he missed during her first steps in the room and he starts to get scared. “There has been an accident, we are going to go to your aunt’s house, and then I am going to the hospital to see your father” his mom manages to get out. “Let me help you get some things, your blanket and pillow” his aunt says.

Growing up at the intersection of two very busy streets, he is no stranger to car accidents. In his memory it seems like there was always a loud screeching followed by the tell tale bang. The worst accident he can remember happened as he was watching TV. He heard the sounds and then saw a car come crashing through the 6-7 foot tall hedge that buffered the house from the street. There had been a crab apple tree that ended up stopping the cars progress, which later would be cut down as a result of the damage. The woman driving the car had been bringing a litter of kittens home and missed the red light. The kittens fled from the car and ended up under the porch of his house for several days. The woman had been taken away in an ambulance but came back to retrieve the kittens once she would released. Yes, he knew what his mom meant by “there was an accident”, at least he thought he did.

He remembers, almost vividly, the two mile drive to is aunt and uncles house that night. Snow was falling pretty heavily and the car was unsure on the road, but not many people were even on the roads. What he doesn’t remember are the details just after that, not the way he remembers sitting there watching the snow fall in his room. The hospital was 30 minutes away in good weather, and it wasn’t good weather. He would later find out that the path they took each day to get there was the same his father had been on when his accident occurred. What he pieces together in his fog is that his father hit a patch of black ice on the highway, lost control of his small car which then went across the median and slammed into three cars traveling the opposite direction. The three drivers had minor injuries, his dad however had to be pried from the car and would be in a coma for another six weeks. He can still describe the waiting room of the hospital back then, almost can see the maze of hallways to get to the elevator bank which led to the ICU. He still can vividly describe the details of the ICU waiting room, and how when you walked out into the hallways you always had to be ready to stand against the wall if something was going wrong.

What stands out in his mind most, was the day he went into the ICU to see his father. The man he remembered was laying on a hospital bed, on his back with all sorts of tubes and machines hooked up to him. The one that bothered him the most was the one in his father throat, which bothers him still to this day. His father couldn’t respond, he just lay there, quiet as the snow outside except for the constant beeping of machines. One of the other victims in the accident was a nurse for the hospital and would frequently stop by to see how he was doing. One day, his aunt got a phone call and they were loading up the car, his father had woken up. On the way to the hospital his aunt and uncle explained that his dad my not be his normal self. Having been asleep for several weeks could confuse him and make him act different. All he thought about was how his father was back with them.

He didn’t see him right away, something wasn’t right. The doctor explained that when people wake from a coma there are two states of mind they could be in. The first one is as if nothing happened, like they woke up from a nap and couldn’t remember why they went to sleep. The second, and as it would turn out the actual for his dad, was the person wakes up angry and scared because they don’t understand what has happened. He doesn’t recall how long that lasted, but he remembers when he finally got to see his dad. He carefully gave his dad a hug and held him for a long time. Before the accident he dad loved licorice jelly beans so he brought his dad a whole bag of them.

Even though he was awake, his father was still pretty broken and would spend the next several months in a rehabilitation center to learn little things like how to walk. This would be another place he could describe in vivid detail, and would have many stories of the struggles his father had. The thing about brain damage is, we don’t fully comprehend how the brain works so understanding how it will function when damaged is a trick in itself. Walking in one day with his mom, the nurse was trying to get him to eat. She gave us a look telling my mom this was one of those times he might not be himself. “You know him right, tell her” his dad shouted to him, “tell her we know flipper.” The movie had been on TV and in his frustration to remember what had happened he got fixated on telling the nurse he knew the dolphin. By this time, he was familiar with his fathers difficulties with memories and moments of frustration to know agreeing was the best thing to do. The nurse smiled and left the room saying “try getting him to eat his lunch.” In those early days, his father had been paranoid. He was convinced someone was trying to keep him captive and was putting things in his food to make him sleep.

Recovery is a strong word, but at some point his father was recovered enough to leave the facility and become an outpatient. By this time though other things had started to happen. His mom was always a strong person, she always let him know they were going to make it through this, but she had started looking more tired and weaker. What he thought was just her endless struggle to help his dad through recovery would end up as something else. She wanted him to go to a doctor visit with her and his aunt one day. She thought it was important so he knew he needed to go. The doctor and his mom explained that she had a very rare form of cancer and that she needed to get special treatment. He went with her to her appointments, they would use a pen and mark on her skin where the radiation would be done. He wanted to know, so they showed him the machines and room where his mom would get treatment, and his aunt and him would go with her for the appointments.

His mother also began chemotherapy, and shortly after lost all her hair. When just around the house she would wear a cap, but when going out she would wear one of her wigs. There were times where they would stay with his aunt and uncle, other times they would stay at home with a bed on the first floor for his mother. His father couldn’t stay with them because his mental recovery was still underway and just added to the stress on his mothers illness. At some point his mother and father divorced. His mom went into the hospital, and he stayed with his aunt and uncle. There were experimental treatments and moves from one hospital to another, until she was moved back to the hospital where they lived to celebrate Christmas. She was able to come to the house on Christmas morning for a short while, and he got to curl up against her and thank her for being there with them. She was not going to give up her fight to be there for him.

He was known to oversleep and miss the alarm clock. When the door opened to his room and the light flooded in, his first reaction was to grab his headgear off the wall, put it by his pillow and say it had fallen out in the middle of the night. The headgear was painful enough to wear awake, but when you woke up after sleeping with it all night your mouth was just screaming for relief. So he had put a pushpin in the wall above his pillow and would hang the headgear there after he went to bed. His aunt sat on the edge of his bed and his uncle was standing in the doorway. “I’m up, I’m up, it just fell out, am I late” was the string of slurred words that came out. “Honey you aren’t going to school today,” his aunt said tears welling up, “you’re mom went to sleep last night and didn’t wake up. She died honey.” His blood couldn’t have been more chilled than had he jumped into a lake that had been thinly frozen over. His aunt and uncle sat and consoled him, and his cousins came in and did the same.

He remembers visiting his father over the next couple of years. The lingering damage from his accident was always there and probably only noticeable to him. He loved his father, loved him dearly, which is how he knew when he turned thirteen that he had to choose to live with his aunt and uncle. He remembers bowling with his father, and when he had hiccups his dad would sneak up behind him and say boo when he turned from throwing the ball. He remembers a Halloween when his dad bought a bunch of candy for him and had him come to the door, where he dumped all the candy into his bag. He remembers being in store and stepping on his dads toe to which his dad said “It’s OK, I do it all the time,” which referred to how after the accident he walked on his toes to keep balance. He remembers to, as a freshman in high school while out running in the neighborhood for track practice, seeing his dad while he was moving out of the house and his dad asking him one more time to come live with him. Thirteen years later he would see his dad one more time, after his first son was born. He would see the pain in his fathers eyes and knew it was best if they didn’t see each other again.

The memories are all there and he shares them. He remembers his basement with the potters wheel and kiln where his mom and dad would make and fire pottery. He remembers the stain glass windows his dad refurbished, and the stain glass art he would create. He remembers traveling to churches with his mom while she collected the slate from the roofs that were being replaced and how she painted the slate and sold them. He remembers all the craft shows and the store his parents had where they sold their art. He would run into the local artist, who taught his mom to paint water color, while working in an art gallery. He remembers his parents for all the good times.

My first three children were born in the same hospital my father was taken to after his accident. A lot of it looked different, but there were still some parts that hadn’t changed over the years. New memories were made there, ones that helped ease the pain from the past. Shortly after getting married, I was at the doctor for a problem I was having with my lip and realized it was at my age that my mom found out she had cancer, while she was pregnant with me. My mom would fight for 13 years to make sure her son would be taken care of. My problem was treatable, but it brought a reality to my life I had not thought of before. I am the proud father of four kids, three sons and a daughter, and I can only hope that I can give of myself like my mother gave for me. I am thankful each day for my wife and kids and the joy I have in my life because of them. I know that I may have had difficult times, they are what made me who I am. Family is a strong bond that carries you through many of the difficult times, and without it I may not have been here today. I shared this story not to get sympathy, but to let you know you are not alone. Life is a struggle, but there is so much joy to find which makes it worth the fight. Give your loved ones a hug, I know I am.

It is not about the demons you have to battle in your life, those things that keep you awake sometimes. It is about how you live, it is about the people you love, it is about what you make of life. In the end, for me as a father and a husband, it is about what I give to my family and the memories I make with them.

–ghostnomad

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Computer Terms Defined…by Kids

Apr 30

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Not only are kids amazing in their ability to comprehend computers so young, they often lend themselves to real life examples of some common computer security terms. Here are just a few:

Man in the Middle attack:

Standing downstairs I realize I need to ask my wife a question I shout up to her, and after a brief delay she acknowledges me. I ask her my question “did you say the kids could have candy before lunch?”, and again after a slight delay I get her response “sure”. This seems odd so I walk upstairs to clarify only to find one of my sons had been relaying the question to her, and she hadn’t said sure to MY question.

Denial of Service:

My wife had a late meeting and I was attempting to make dinner. As I was standing at the stove the sink turned on. I looked to see my daughter playing in the water standing on a stool. I picked her off the stool, took her to the toy box and put the stool back. As I attempted to start dinner, again the sink came on with my daughter giggling. Her and I played this little came longer than I realized because when my wife walked in half an hour later she inquired why I hadn’t started dinner.

Distributed Denial of Service:

Having kids means running them around to activities. I often call my wife on the way home from work. Like clock work, if she is running the kids around, they each need something from her while she is on the phone. At the height of the choras of “Mommy” she says “I need to call you back.”

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Pull the Plug

Apr 8

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When you have little kids you find that a pacifier gives not only you, but your child a small amount of relief. That’s right, a small little piece of plastic keeps everyone happy. Just as quickly as the paci becomes your best friend, it become your worst enemy to ween your kids off.

With our fist son we got lucky. He really like the paci up until about the time he was 16 months old, then one day we put the paci in his mouth and he spit it back out. I don’t just mean using his tongue to push it out, I mean a full force shot fired across the room. Since my wife and I thought maybe it was just a fluke, we attempted to give it to him over the course of the next few days. Each time we put it into his mouth, he would fire it back out. After hitting me right between the eyes we decided to throw the paci away.

Our second son was almost as easy. He took a little longer to decide he didn’t need it, but he was more dramatic in his approach. We had just decided we need to start weening him off the paci, so we started by asking him to give it to us. He would shake his head and go hide. We were heading out one day in the car and had the windows down to let the fresh air in. From over my shoulder I saw something go flying by, and realize my son had thrown his paci out the window. He laughed, said “bye bye paci”, and never asked for it again.

In comes our third son. He was almost as easy as our first son. He decided he was done an would spit it out. Just as we were getting ready to throw the paci away, he got really sick. Since he wasn’t feeling very well we decided to let him have his paci for just a little longer. A few days however turned into another year long battle. He stopped calling it his paci and started referring to it as flobbie. While we were on vacation the next summer we hid the paci for the drive back. When our son asked where his flobbie went, we told him he must have dropped into the ocean and a shark took it. “Did he give it to his little baby shark?” he asked. “I think it must have” was our response. The next year when we were driving down to the beach my son out of the blue said “I am gonna find that shark and get flobbie back”

We are currently getting to the point with our daughter were we will ween her off the paci. With her the problem is a little different from her brothers. She knows we will take the paci away so she finds one of the spare ones and hides it. She will wander off and a few minutes later show up with a paci in her mouth. I have a feeling the sharks may have to make a return appearance and help us out one last time.

Those Parenting Moments

Mar 5

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Sometimes as a parent you have those bright spots when you get the feeling you are doing things right. You can sit back and be proud that your kids are going to turn out just fine. Then there are the times when you shake your head and wonder how you will ever rise up to the challenge. Don’t feel alone, here is one of those stories.

Potty training can be a time when you as a parent are tested. On one hand you want your kids to let you know when the need to go, but you fail to realize how often that occurs. You also run into the occasional “let’s make it a game” situation where you end up chasing around the little on while they yell out “I gotta go potty!” Then there are the times you just miss the call. My daughter suddenly claimed she needed to go potty, so I took her to the bathroom. As I pulled her pants down I realized she had already pooped. Despite knowing this my brain went blank and I pulled her pants off. The poop dropped to the floor, which she then stepped into. Reacting, I picked her up and set her on my knee to prevent her from getting anymore on her feet. As my knee got warm it came to me she still had poop on her bottom. I set her down next to the toilet, and she backed up against the wall. As you can guess this formed a brown spot on the wall.

I finally came to my senses and placed her on the toilet. The whole time I cleaned up she sat there saying “eeewwww” and “yucky daddy”. Her three older brothers were not as forgiving. They would taunt me for the rest of the day. The worst of this came when we were at the grocery store and my 3 year old told the cashier “Daddy got poop on the wall.” The cashier, who was a grandmother, laughed and told the kids sometimes dad’s do that. I know I am a dad when I am no longer embarrassed by my kids telling strangers I got pooped on the wall.

I must go now, another parenting moment is calling and I wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity to embarrass myself and amuse my kids. :)

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The Voice Says

Feb 20

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I was having lunch the other day with some friends and as we were discussing our kids I remembered a story that always makes me laugh. When our oldest was around three years old, and our second son was around six months I was upstairs doing something in the nursery. My wife was talking to the oldest who was throwing a minor tantrum. Closing a drawer in the dresser made a banging sound down stairs and the 3 year old said “What was that”. I quickly realized he could hear me through the baby monitor, and decided to have some fun.

Making my voice deeper and booming I said “HELLO!”

“Who is that? Hello” my son responded.

“Be nice to your mother, and listen to her” I said. I heard some whispering and my wife laughed. “I don’t think it heard you” my wife said to my son.

“Speak up, your mumbling.” I said into the baby monitor.

“OK Mr. Voice, I will be nice and I will listen.” my son responded back still sounding a bit timid. “Excellent, now go play” I said.

I went downstairs and as I walked into the kitchen my wife had the biggest grin on her face. My son ran over to me and told me he heard a voice and it told him to be nice and listen. I told him it sounded like a very nice voice, and he agreed. My wife and I got a good laugh at what had just unfolded. A few years latter he discovered the trick and caught me off guard one day.

“YOU THERE!” he shouted into the monitor in the deepest, booming voice he could muster. I wasn’t expecting it and shouted out “WHOOOAAA!” The voice in the monitor started laughing and I knew exactly what I had fallen for. My oldest son and I have pulled variations of the trick on his three other siblings, all with results that leave everyone laughing. I am proud to say I am raising responsible practical jokers.

Haiku of Eldest

Feb 13

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Can we write Haiku
Said the son to his father
Having some good times

DA! Let go my toe!
I don’t want to taco you!
Can we play the Wii?

My sister just burped
It was very disturbing
She is not a boy

She always says Da!
Followed by let go my toe
She is very cute

Haiku is up here
It is by the frontal lobe
I like hot pizza

The dinosaur says
I don’t think we thought this through
Pause, master, master

My dad does this too
Can I carry a notebook
That was a haiku

Platypus are cool
They barely do anything
Or they do nothing

I like to play games
Computer games if you ask
They are very fun

Hello I am bob
Bob the blob if you ask me
I am always blue

I do my homework
At about six past seven
It is very cool

Do you know uber
You know from uber twitter
Tweet tweet tweetadee

Is it on a couch
From the 1870s
Why do I sit here

– By the Eldest of Ghostnomad

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Why Would What

Jan 18

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The other day I was sitting in the kitchen with my 8 years old and he asked me a question. I don’t remember exactly what he asked, but I know we started a discussion so I could answer his question. As I was explaining the ins and outs of the subject at hand he asked me another question. This launched us into another discussion which lead to another question. Thirty minutes later my son took a breath and said “I have another question” to which feeling a bit drained I responded “yes, what is it?” His response not only made me chuckle, but also reminded me of how much fun raising kids is, he asked “how did we get on this topic?”

Kids are a blank canvass and have a great desire to learn and explore. I forget sometimes as I talk to my kids, that at their various ages I may be using words or phrases they may have not yet learned. Of course they just don’t sit by and let it go, they immediately want to know what you are saying. The other lesson I learned is that even if my kids didn’t know what I was saying, they still would listen in to what my wife and I would talk about. Often, later when they had the attention of one of us they would ask a question about what they heard earlier. My kids have a great ability to remember things for long periods of time.

I think most parents can relate to the phase of your kids life when no matter what you say, or how you answer a question you are met with the word “Why” or the phrase “What is/does…” All my kids have a different approach, but each one has never let me get by with a “because I say so” or “that is just how it is.” I do hope you never have to encounter that moment when you tell your kids you don’t know something, because with my kids I believe there was a brief moment the world was going to end. Once their initial shock of the “I don’t know” response wore off, I received a hearty reading of the riot act on how I was Daddy and I knew everything. I am told that at some point that view changes and I will suddenly know nothing because they will know everything.

Once we were on vacation at a condo at the beach. My oldest son noticed that there were pictures of other people and because curious as to why there were books and DVDs where we were staying. We had him sign the book the owners left for all guests to sign and explained to him that someone owned this and we were renting it. A day or two later my son asked my why people would rent their home on the beach to strangers. I explained that it was their vacation home and in order to afford it they let other people help them pay for it, even perhaps made some money themselves. My son again asked why people would do such a thing, to which I responded it was an investment. “What is an investment?” was his next question, at which point my wife laughed at me because she knew I opened a can of worms. A few months later when my son returned to school the teacher asked everyone to share a picture from their summer and talk about what they had done. My son showed a picture of the beach and when asked by his teacher where he stayed (i.e. which beach) he gave a ten minute discussion on investment properties.

I could tell countless stories, but here is a short one. If you follow me on twitter you sometimes get to see, almost in real time, exchanges between my kids and I. I expect one day they will hate me for this, but for now they find just as much humor as I do. My 3 year old son has this quirk where out of now where he will look at me and say “What daddy?” I believe he things I just said something, that is my best guess, but my general response back to him is to ask the question back “What?” At first the exchange will go back and forth between us without either of us changing our stance, but eventually he gets frustrated and either stares me down or declares “I said what daddy!” No matter how I try to approach this to explain I have no idea why he is asking me what or even answering him by telling him I said nothing in the first place, he still remains very annoyed. I imagine this is how it would have felt to be in the old “Who’s on first” skit. At some point he will walk away shaking his head and tell Mommy that “Daddy is being mean.”

Some may find the endless questions annoying or unnerving, but I really enjoy those times with my kids. I definitely learn a lot, not only about how they think, but about how we learn. The small things make them happy. Besides, once they discover the internet you will become obsolete. Time to respond to a new search request, “Daddy! Why does…..”

Gift Box

Dec 27

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Right from the start we love to shower our kids with love, attention, and things of all shapes and sizes. After our first son was born I remember getting tons of gifts from family, friends, and co-workers. I would say the amount of gifts you get for a first born child almost rivals the amount you get when you get married. We almost had enough clothes for the first nine months of our son’s life. I say almost because no parent can resist buying those cute outfits when you come face to face with them in the store.?

You also wind up with enough baby toys for multiple kids to share. This comes in handy even with just one child because toys get thrown to the floor and the spare toys help quell that sense of fright you have about germs getting all over your kids. In the early stages, kids just play with whatever you put in their hands, and playing can be a simple as staring.

The fun for parents really begins when kids can start to manipulate the toys and experience for themselves the joy of opening gifts. I think the first time each of my kids opened a present my heart beat at near breakneck speeds. I was thrilled because I new what was coming, and they were going to be surprised. However, the surprise would become mine. When the wrapping paper fell away and the box had been removed from the toy, it wasn’t the toy they wanted, it was the box. So begins the journey.

There is something magical about a box to kids, and the bigger the better. I can remember all my kids first box like it was yesterday. The glee in their voice, the flash of joy in their eyes. Silly, you thought that excitement was for the toy you spent so much time thinking about at the store. It is humorous watching the person who takes the box off the toy and hands the toy to your child, only to have the items switched. It is my belief that a parent came up with the phrase “Think outside the box” when talking to their kids about presents.

If an arm or a leg is all that can fit into a box, then your child suddenly becomes part robot. This is hard wired into my kids, because each one immediately would stick a box on their arm and announce “I am robot, I am robot!” As suddenly as this occurs, the box is suddenly off the arm and either flying around the room as a spaceship or racing across the floor as a race car. Perhaps it even becomes a flying space car, but it is best not to question this innovation. Soon the crayons come out, depending on their age, and their invention takes shape in the form of lines and swoops of all lengths and colors.

With a slightly bigger box, and either a smaller sibling or a small pet, you child becomes a greater hunter and the box is the trap. Assuming your head is roughly the same size as one of the boxes, you will find as you sit in your chair the world becomes dark and you are now an astronaut. “What does it look like in outer space daddy,” they exclaim, to which I respond “I see stars.” This is more a practical response than a creative one if the box got jammed on your head, as tend to happens, and you really do see stars.

Once you get into the boxes that actually fit you child into them, you have achieved a certain level of awesomeness. Your standard box doesn’t move by itself, but that doesn’t stop your child from speeding around the world. One scene that plays out in our household that really makes me laugh is when my kids assume the tornado drill position, you know all hunched over and hand over the head, and they exclaim “You can’t see me!” When the box is so big you really can’t see them inside, their world is complete. They now have their own fort in the jungle, or a Lunar Space Lander. You get out the utility knife and cut out doors, windows, portals, and more. Flowers, trees, pipes, and other decorations appear all over the sides.

Eventually the toys they got get worked into their new box universe, but the box is still at the center. Don’t get me wrong, my kids love their toys and are grateful for what they get, they just love exploring the world “inside the box”. As a final note I would like to caution you if you have not gone through this experience. The fun doesn’t end with just the box in the complete form. Don’t be surprised if you reach in your pocket only to find cardboard coins and not the ones your can use in the vending machine. Also, don’t break their hearts when you sit down for dinner to a place setting made of last years box, just find a way to eat off the creation. The more you think “inside the box”, the more creative you just might become.

A Gift

Dec 25

Posted by ghostnomad in Story | No Comments

Christmas wish for you
Keep spirits alive today
Our family to yours

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