Toy Helicopters and Teeth

Elijah is nearing his second birthday, and already I think he has more toys than I had my entire childhood.

For some reason, he plays with his helicopter toys the most. So of course, there are now dozens of toy helicopters around for him to play with. I think they reproduce in the toy box at night.

While I firmly believe that one should be able to see the structure holding them aloft, and therefore cannot intellectually accept the fact that my son is showing preference to helicopters over fixed wing aircraft, I will never tell my child that he cannot play with a toy. As long as it's his. As for professional career options, I've still got some time to convince him of his folly. (By the way, all helicopters have extensive connection systems to ensure that the rotors do, in fact, stay connected to the airframe. Most of those familiar with such systems commonly call it "The Jesus Nut". Because if that nut comes loose, that's the first name on everybody's lips. I'm digressing badly here, just thought I would mention that tidbit.)

Eli plays with his toy helicopters all the time. He carries them around while eating his snack, or watching a movie. He throws them down the steps, then goes down the steps himself to retrieve them and do it again. He chews on them constantly. There are teeth marks on all of his favorite toys. In fact, one toy helicopter of his is so badly mangled that it hardly looks like a helicopter anymore. It looks more like a cicada. We're going to have to throw it away soon.

Such is the tension that we all feel at one point or another: We love something so much that we use it up and need to replace it.

We want to save the object, to treasure it forever, and it's tough to let it get beat up. But with toys especially, if we don't use them, they're no good anyway. I mean, if Eli didn't play with his helicopters, we would probably toss them or give them away.

When our nephew Jeremiah was born, my wife made him a blanket. It was not a large blanket, but perfect for a newborn or to have handy for the car seat. But it somehow became one of Jeremiah's favorite blankets. He slept with it in the cradle, and then the crib. He would carry it around with him. He still keeps it nearby.

Shan and I were over to his house recently, and we saw it. It looked really sad. It's stretched out, worn out, pulled, torn in one corner, and nowhere near it original color. It's more of a dingy greyish-brown now.

Shan told me on the way home how seeing that blanket was sort of a bitter sweet experience for her. On one hand, she gave him the blanket as a keepsake, a token of our love for our new nephew. Those are things to be treasured, to be remembered, to be kept.

On the other hand, Shan knows beyond a shadow of a doubt how much that blanket means to Jeremiah. And that makes it special, to see it used and appreciated and loved. As much as she would want Jeremiah to maybe pass it down to his children, or to keep it as a treasured memory of us after we're gone, it warmed Shan's heart to see it bringing joy to our nephew.

In the Book of Matthew, Jesus tells his disciples a story about a business man who went on a trip out of town. While he was gone, he entrusted some of his property to his servants, to do with as they wished.

The first two servants doubled their investments by using the property given them. The third took what was given to him and buried it, and did not use it.

He was punished severly, and what he did have was, in the end, taken from him.

He tried to save it, and ended up losing it.

I think the point of the parable is this:  Use it or lose it.  When I was growing up, this parable always had a spiritual connotation to it.  We need to find out what our talents are, our God-given abilities, and use them and foster their growth and development in order to be the people God made us to me.

But the emphasis on the spiritual dimension always came at the detriment to the physical dimension.  Of course there is a deep spirituality behind any of Jesus' parables, and this one is no different.

But the men in the story were not given special abilities to develop and improve.  They were given physical objects.

Our physical belongings, cars, houses, lawnmowers, shovels, books, kitchen sinks, toy helicopters and blankets are for us to use and appreciate.

Only if we use them will we gain any value out of them.

My nephew will go on using and loving his blanket until my sister decides it's beyond saving and it goes in the trash.  Or a ziploc baggie like my mom did for the rat's nest that I turned my blanket into.

Eli will go on chewing helicopters until we decide they are unairworthy and beyond repair, and send them to the boneyard.

When we use those things that we love, sometimes we destroy them in the process.  But toy helicopters and blankets are useless otherwise.


wingnut

Welcome Home!

Holidays are for coming home, for family and friends and loved ones.

Any holiday season is busy, with parties and driving and gifts and celebrations.

How much more so when one of the parties takes place at the hospital? This past Thursday, we celebrated a birthday!

Not mine.

Not Wifey's.

Not Elijah's.

We celebrated the arrival of our daughter, Madison Patricia!

She was born just after 5pm, and weighed eight pounds exactly! She is also 19 inches long.

We praise God for the healthy addition to our family, and we pray that she will continue to grow into the woman God created her to be!


Both Mommy and Maddie are doing very well, and trying to catch up on sleep while Daddy distracts Hurricane Eli.

It's gonna get crazy 'round here!!!


wingnut

We're not alone...even though our kid was the only toddler going down the big slide.

I'd first like to thank Pastor Larry Doornbos of Evergreen Ministries for finding this link and posting it on his blog, where I could hijack it and bring it here.

It seems there is a backlash against over-protective parenting. The article, by Nancy Gibbs from Time.com, calls these parents "Helicopter Parents". As if I needed another reason to dislike rotor-wing aircraft.

Helicopter parents are constantly hovering, making sure their kid is safe and secure at all times, ensuring a successful and bright future. Football helmets for playgrounds and toddler knee pads, these parents are all about protecting their offspring.

But many are calling out that these parents are going about it the wrong way. By protecting their children from accidents, they fail to learn how to play and be active. Not allowing them to walk home from the bus stop for fear of kidnapping contributes to their sense of entitlement, not to mention their expanding waistlines and sedentary lifestyle.

Overparenting is like an allergic reaction, calling up all of the body's reserves even as the threat is diminished, or non-existent. Consider this statement by Gibbs:

"From peace and prosperity, there arose fear and anxiety; crime went down, yet parents stopped letting kids out of their sight; the percentage of kids walking or biking to school dropped from 41% in 1969 to 13% in 2001. Death by injury has dropped more than 50% since 1980; yet parents lobbied to take the jungle gyms out of playgrounds, and strollers suddenly needed the label "Remove Child Before Folding"."

Shan and I experience this all the time. We were at the park last summer, letting Eli run around and be himself. He had just discovered that the stairs on the play structure went all the way to the top of the big slide. Once up there, he went down the big slide. This is the same big slide that scared Mommy a few months before, and gave Daddy all sorts of floor-burn type injuries on his hands, feet, toes, fingers, knees, and elbows not long after.

It's a really big slide.

Eli was going down the slide all by himself.

There was another boy there, about four, who's grandmother repeatedly told him not to go down the slide, as it was too big and dangerous, and "it scares Grandma. You're too little."

I'm sure that Grandma means well, and wants the best for little Jimmy, or Timmy, or whatever the little dude's name was. But in telling him no, she was severely limiting his ability to learn and discover his limits. He wanted to go down the slide. I would have let him. If it scared him, then he wouldn't do it any more. If not, well, he just discovered something else fun to do.

Just as four-year-old little Jimmy or Timmy was being denied a ride because of his diminutive size, one-and-a-half year old Elijah popped out from the bottom of the slide, huge grin on his face, and made a beeline for the stairs to have another go.

We will never produce daring, adventurous, risk-taking people who move and shake the world if we never let them take any risks as children. If we teach them to be afraid of everything, they will be.

Along with the risk-averse parenting that doesn't let children be children, there also comes a ridiculously high standard set for education. Preschools introducing Mandarin Chinese into their curriculum, in order to prepare children for their place in the coming global business world. Preschools! "What color is this crayon, Johnny?" "Purple." "No, Johnny, in Mandarin, please."

Parents rush out to buy cookbooks featuring recipes that supposedly increase intelligence. Some states have even provided every newborn with a copy of the CD Build Your Baby's Brain Through the Power of Music, based on some research claiming that classical music will temporarily increase IQ.

But it doesn't stop there. Many college campuses have web cams in common areas, specifically for parents who wish to check in on their students. Or consider global powerhouse Ernst & Young, who provides "parent packs" for all new hires, on the assumption that parents will be present for salary and benefit negotiations.

Good luck standing up for yourself, Johnny! Even if you do, Mommy will be right behind you anyway.

Imagine the stress we're placing Johnny under! Think of all the things he'll have to live up to, never knowing if he is truly "good enough" for Mommy. That's not to mention all the stress that Mommy and Daddy are feeling every time little Johnny isn't at the top of his class. It's probably due to their poor parenting skills, they assume, and rush to buy another Dr. Phil book. Or Dr. Dobson, take your pick.

Let them be kids. Let them skin their knees on bicycles and jungle gyms. Let them walk to school, or ride their bike. Let them run around in the woods with the rest of their friends.

We are raising our children to become responsible adults in the world. Before they can become adults, we need to let them be kids.

On the way out, here's a funny comic about overparenting.


wingnut