Sometimes presents should just be fun

From this week's Brentwood Home Page:

My 7-year-old son Owen got hold of the Toys For Us catalog, as his brothers called it when they were 3, and circled everything he wished he could have for Christmas.

Most of his choices didn’t surprise me, since he always wants Legos, building sets, spy stuff, board games and video games. Bur one selection made me question my parenting style.

He had circled this kid-sized, battery-operated police car, a Dodge Charger “Hemi” with lights, a siren and a working megaphone.

It was WAY cool.

The problem is that my husband and I have always had a policy against those vehicles. We never bought his older brothers the Power Wheels Jeep, even though they would have loved one, of course.

No, we were those parents who thought our kids’ toys should have standards. We wanted all our recreational purchases to improve our kids in some way. Why spend $300 on some toy that just carries them around the yard? Let’s get them a Kett car, which is pedal-powered, so they can use their leg muscles. You know, get some exercise while they’re having fun?

That’s what happens when you apply adult thinking to your kids’ gift requests. Presents aren’t always supposed to teach a lesson. Sometimes they’re just supposed to be fun.

We were pretty uppity about TV and video games too. I was so proud that my older boys never saw an episode of Spongebob Squarepants until they were 7 or 8. We’d managed to keep them safely ensconced in the world of PBS Kids for all that time.

Of course, what works in your family doesn’t work in other families. I witnessed one son’s first brush with peer pressure at a birthday party for a fellow preschooler who was a big fan of Pokemon and Power Rangers. When he opened the gift from my son, a copy of one of our favorite Little Bear videos, he looked at his mom like, “What am I supposed to do with this baby video?”

That right there is painful. I don’t care how old you are.

We’d also heard all the doomsday reports about the effects of the Xbox on kids, so we staunchly avoided any video games. We were so smug about our approach. Then we found out that our kids turned into drooling zombies who played video games the entire night when they’d go to sleepovers at the homes of their lucky friends whose parents did buy an Xbox.

So we caved and have since owned a Game Cube, a Wii and an Xbox.

Now that my oldest boys will (hopefully) head to college in four short years, I’m rethinking my toy policies.

Last summer we finally bought the Deadliest Toy on Earth, a trampoline. It was officially the best thing ever for about a week. Now, just like every other trampoline in the neighborhood, it sits in our yard, “safety net” drooping, waiting for a day when the boys have friends over so they will play on it.

Still, I’m glad we got it. Life is short, right?

I’m pretty sure Owen knows he won’t get a police car he can drive this Christmas. I mean, he’s over the age limit and I know he’s over the height limit. But I admire his optimism.

I like the fact that he quietly went over my head and circled the car anyway, hoping Santa at least might bring it down the chimney.

If he does, I know two 14-year-olds who would drive that thing all around the yard whether they fit in it or not.

But I’m still not getting them TVs for their rooms.

Farewell, Fess Parker

It will be a tragic day in our house if Owen finds out that Fess Parker passed away.

Fess Parker is the actor who played Davy Crockett and Daniel Boone in those famous Disney series. We discovered Davy accidentally in the Brentwood Library one day, when Owen and I were perusing the free movies to check out. I noticed the silver spine of the special edition DVD of the Davy Crockett box set, which had six movies on it. It stood out from the primary colors of all the usual kids' shows, and I showed it to Owen.

I could tell that, 50 years later, Fess' pioneer gear, handsome gaze and confident gun pose on the cover were working their magic on my then-5-year-old. Of course, we brought it home.

I think we watched the entire thing straight through that day, and were still watching when my older boys came home from school that afternoon. They got caught up in the depiction of pioneer courage, the friendship between Davy and Georgie, portrayed by the always awesome Buddy Ebsen, and intense but not gory battles between Davy and The Bad Guys.

I eventually had to order our own copy of that DVD so as not to deprive the other Brentwood children from their own Davy experience.

Owen wanted go as Davy on Halloween that year, so I ordered him an amazing costume that he still tries to wear around the house. It kind of works, if you like your Davy Crockett to be clad in buckskin capri pants.

The hat, of course, would be the key to the costume, and the fake fur mess that came with the one I ordered looked like a bad toupee when Owen put it on. So I, of course, scoured the Internet for a better one.

Guess what I found? A website for Fess Parker's winery, which happened to sell authentic coonskin caps.

That hat is considered a true treasure in our house, and it will always be a part of Burgin family history.

This week's BHP column

How much fun is life when your kids are seven years apart? Read all about it here.

...And you smell like one too!

So it's FINALLY not Owen's birthday anymore. Next year, I must remember to plan his party as close to his actual birthday as possible.
This year Owen's birthday fell on a Wednesday. I scheduled his party for Sunday afternoon. Somehow Owen surmised that all the days between his actual birth date and his party counted as his birthday. All I know is that by Sunday, I was officially over this whole birthday thing.
I know, I know. I do this to myself. Birthdays are only as big a pain as I make them. But I wanted to make this birthday special for Owen because he has always been our "understanding" child. That really means we end up taking advantage of the fact that he is the third child, both agreeable and eager to please. The last two years we've had a family party for him. "It's just as fun as bouncing in some inflatable castle with your friends! Grandparents! And cousins! Cake! You'll love it!" We told him his present would be a family camping trip.
Somehow, between sports schedules, work demands and parental exhaustion, we did not make good on his birthday camping trip until this past July. Ten months later!
So I wanted this birthday to be like a "real" kid birthday. I let him pick the venue. He chose Glow Galaxy, mainly because he wanted to sit in the big throne in the party room and wear a crown. But the party wasn't until Sunday. To make up for his having to attend kindergarten all day on his birth date, I planned through the cafeteria manager to spring for ice cream for everyone in his class at lunchtime. They actually suggest this now as an alternative to sending in homemade treats, and I was glad to do it.
I prepaid for the ice cream and showed up to the cafeteria at lunchtime. I told everyone we ran into that day that it was Owen's birthday. He got to go to a middle school cross country meet to cheer on his big bro, and all the big kids told him happy birthday. So by Wednesday night, as my mom used to say, I had had too much birthday.
Then he woke up on Thursday with that famous quote, and I knew I was in for it.
He talked about the party all day, every day. It really did seem like it was his birthday 24/7. The mailbox seemed to overflow with cards containing cash. Neighbors bearing gift cards stopped by. I spent Saturday making a Star Wars-themed cake, which was for the better because it distracted me during the Tennessee football game.
Then Sunday finally showed up.
Glow Galaxy wasn't my first choice, but it also wasn't my birthday. His friends came, he got to wear a crown, and he sat on a throne. He also woke up the next morning with some random 102-degree fever and has missed the past two days of kindergarten.
Like my mom used to say, I guess he had too much birthday.

When did birthdays become birth weeks?

Owen turned 6 yesterday. He woke up this morning and said, "Day 2 of my birthday is off to a good start."

One reason I'm usually a step behind

If Owen comes running into the house and says:

"Lucy just went kablooey on Catherine's GPS man!"

he means:

"The dog just barked like crazy at the UPS man next door!"

How much is a dent, anyway?

Me, to the 5-year-old: "Owen, you're breaking my No. 1 fashion rule for boys. I cannot allow you to wear that black T-shirt with those navy blue shorts."

Owen: growls loudly, once he understands that he is not in actual trouble: "GAAARRRR. I like it. I like it. I WANT to wear it. I don't care about fashion one dent!"

Me, surprised by his ferocity: "Well, your dad will be happy because he doesn't care about fashion one dent either."

Perhaps I should give up reality TV for Lent

Rev. Cliff Wright, as he processed out of the sanctuary after the Ash Wednesday service, finished his prayer this way: "...and the amazing Grace of the Lord as it comes into your life."

Owen: "I thought he said, "And The Amazing Race is coming on tonight."