Showing posts with label Daxxon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Daxxon. Show all posts

Thursday, July 18, 2013

We Can Not Let the Silence of a Kid Occupied by an iPhone Fool Us..Put on Your Parent Pants and Say NO.

Disclaimer: The words said here are those of my own convictions.



A few months ago, on a normal weekday afternoon, the littles were sleeping and I was trying to "get stuff done" around the house.  Sunlight was beaming through the windows, peace ringing in the halls with the sound of sleeping children.  Warmth filled rooms and my clean floors glimmered as I dug through the junk mail that had piled up on my desk in our bedroom.  As I sorted the mail: junk, junk bill, junk, bill, bill, bill, my (then) 4 year old son was crouched on the floor, a cords length from the wall playing a game on "his iPhone", with a cracked face and scratched metal back.  Suddenly, his words pierced my ears, "I am going to KILL you" he whispered intensely under his breath, eyes zoned and locked on the three inch screen.  Time froze as I lifted my eyes from the messy piles of mail and looked over at him, then I began to process what he had said.   My tender heart was ripped in half as the heaviness of his words set in.  "I am going to kill you"??  Did he really say this?!?  Did those words leak out of my innocent son's mouth.... before my very own eyes?  In the walls of my protected home?"

Inside I came to a screeching halt, stopping at a crossroads in parenting, and it was one that demanded a choice of me.  A decision that would require effort, surveillance, and a little (eh-hem, cough, cough...) parenting.   I wanted to pretend I didn't hear those words.  I wanted to tell myself he was just kidding.  Thoughts flooded my mind like, "he is just a boy playing a game", "he didn't really mean he wanted to "kill" something", "this is all harmless play". But, alas, my conscience is not easily fooled.  I knew I had to put my big-momma-foot-down and make a stand in our family and say, "It is NOT okay to desire the death of anyone, not even those we deem as enemies. In real life and in a video-game-fantasy-world."  Something is innately wrong with words such as these coming out of a young boys mouth, a 4 year old people!    

I walked over to him, sitting on the floor.  I knelt down, reached my hand out and asked him to hand me his phone.   After he reluctantly relinquished the thin heavy phone into my hand,  I sat down and asked him what he meant when he said, "I want to kill you".  He said that he had to kill the character, (who happened to be Sandman) to get to the next level of the game.  He explained how he was stuck on this same level, and unless he killed this character, he would not advance.

Then, we got into a discussion about how "we" can never desire to kill someone, and this passion is not pleasing to God, not in the least bit.

What was my four year old son's reply to this philosophical thought you ask??  ....   He looked at me with the most serious face he could muster up and said, "Well Mom.  They don't actually die.  They fall down, turn invisible, and the invisible police come and take him to a jail..."

Well played, four year old son.  Well played.  (We are never too young to justify sin.)

That night Denver and I talked about it, about the intensity that games like this brings out in our son, and how emotionally connected he feels with the unfolding plot. We agreed on different aspects, and disagreed on others, but, we had to come head to head about what our nuclear family was going to allow and not allow in our home when it comes to media, games, and technology.

When we had our first born, iPhones were not on the market, the iPad was a distant thought and video games were played either on the computer or on a gaming system that sat in the living room of most homes, not in the pockets of 4 year olds.  Travel gaming systems existed, and educational systems were just "breaking ground" in middle income American households. This was not a conversation we had planned for... "Should our son play games on iPhones and iPads... what if it's innocent killing like superheroes and LEGO games? ... What are the lasting effects of this type of exposure at such a young age...??"  <--- ALL things we never had thought through.

Growing up, my family was always on the cusp of technology.  Our first Nintendo system came home when I was in first grade, I remember walking back to the sacred technology department of Wal-mart and picking it up.  We played every level of the original Mario Bros., we fell in love with Yoshi and drove a mean Mario Kart.  The Game Genie answered all our life's problems and we loved the paintball setting when playing Golden Eye on the N64 with friends.  I got my first AIM account in 8th grade, and was a senior in college when my University was prestigious enough to have "Facebook".  I downloaded thousands of songs on Napster (okay maybe hundreds) and remember the first viral video I watched of David Hasselhoff singing "Hooked on a Feeling" in my sorority house long before the days of YouTube.

When I was four, I played with roly-pollies and made mud pies all summer.  I played Mommy and Doctor, saving lives in my spare time, not dreaming of them to end.

My generation has grown up trusting in technology to fill our spare time, to schedule our events and build our friend list, but listen 30 somethings.... we CANNOT ALLOW IT TO PARENT OUR CHILDREN.

Over time our love affair with technology has set deep roots. As we have grown and matured, so has technology.   The Mortal Combat Game that your Mom was scared of at Crystals Pizza has nothing on the games that kids play today in our homes and around our dining room tables.   I am not ignorant, I know that this has been a problem for many years.  I understand that children have played games like this, but how young is too young?

Mothers, Fathers, Aunts, Uncles, Friends, Neighbors, Grocery-Store-Checker-Outers (Pretty much I am including everyone here!)... we have to take a stand and not let the complacency of a child occupied by a game overshadow our responsibility to guard the hearts of our children.  Our children are inclined to like things that are not good for them, they have a natural pull towards darkness because we live in a broken world.  To not recognize this is just what the enemy wants from us....

So after that conversation Denver and I set up a few guidelines that we have when it comes to games on media devices.  We decided that saying NO to every game and gaming system would be extreme in the world we live in.  If we expect our child to function well in their generation they will have to have some experience with media, but it is our responsibility to guide that endeavor.  This is what we decided on.  2 simple rules.

1:  No games that KILL- Period.  Nope.  None.  Zilch.  Zip.  

2:  Small increments of exposure-  Right now we set our timer for 20 minutes of "game time".   We feel in this time frame no obsessive tendencies can become habitual.  This is something that must be weighed for each child.  My son is more inclined to spend 4 hours on the iPad if left unattended, where as my daughter wouldn't spend more than 20 minutes on it if I begged her.

It took me months to gain the courage and come up with the words to post this.  For one I was embarrassed to admit that this had even happened in my home on my watch and secondly it is such a touchy topic.  Your convictions might not be the same as mine, and I AM OKAY WITH THAT.  We must each live in the light of our individual convictions and this happens to be something that God is working out in our family right now.  

We highly value the truth that Psalm 19:14 holds for us as adults and for our children.  "Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart Be acceptable in Your sight, O LORD, my rock and my Redeemer."  As a parent in this situation I have the responsibility to expose the ugly places that sin creates in the hearts of my children.  If I recognize them and turn my head or choose to not confront it, I am only allowing it to fester and become a larger problem for them in the future.  

Thank you for reading and PLEASE feel free to comment and share what works best in your family because we are always looking for new ideas on how to approach technology's intrusive invasion of our home.

Friday, February 1, 2013

Legos... I mean LEGO! Learn a little bit about yourself and take my LEGO Personality Quiz

Hi.  I am a mom of a KFOL who is also commonly known in the LEGO world a KSB.  If you have no idea what I just said, please keep reading.  
.
.
.
.
.
.
Are you an AFOL (adult fan of LEGO)?  What about an AFFOL (adult female fan of LEGO)? Or maybe a TFOL (teen fan of LEGO)?  Are you a parent of a KFOL (kid fan of LEGO), also known as a POKFOL?  (Do you feel smarter yet?!)

.
.
.
.
.
.
Are you lost in translation right now?  Let me fill you in.
Haven't you ever heard of the "Bricktionary"? Gah.  Where do you live?  Under a rock?!  I was trying to look up a slang term for LEGO obsessed, my Google search failed me, but I stumbled upon the "Bricktionary".  I couldn't help but have fun with some of the terms I discovered, like Grüschteling the word in German used to describe the sound of rummaging through a bucket of LEGO bricks.  (If you have ever played with LEGOs you know exactly what I am talking about!!) ... A whole new world was opened up to me, and I suddenly realized I had a lot to learn.  This Mom needed to be "LEGO-cated". 
.
.

.
.
.
First if you are a parent to a KFOL (like me) why don't you take the LEGO personality quiz.  I whipped this bad boy up after a 12 hour LEGO binge I assisted my son in.   We were quarantined in our house for 72 hours due to the influenza plague striking our nation, so I had some extra time on my hands.  Forgive me.  (But, I hope you enjoy.)





Created by: Yours Truly (you're welcome)

1.  What is your role when you play LEGOs with you child?  Are you:
  • (3) The Builder- You exhibit many OCD tendencies and you must be in control at.all.times.  If there is one piece missing you look relentlessly all day to find it, even turning the entire house upside down because you know that you know, that you know, you saw it by the couch 2 days ago.
  • (2)  The Parts Monkey -One who selflessly finds LEGO elements for another during build time. If building sets, parts monkeys are permitted to help with sub-assemblies, but should be aware that their main duty is to provide the builder with what he/she needs**.
  • (1)  A Luggle- Non-lego folk** (adapted from term Muggles from the Harry Potter Series) (Which *gasp* I have never read, so I don't really get this, BUT I like the word anyways.)


2. What is your LEGO building positioning?
  • (3) At the table, with a magnifying glass table lamp, checking the security of every brick as you build piece by piece.  You. Are. A. Lego. Master. Congrats.  Stop now, and proceed to the Purist aisle. Thanks for coming.  
  • (2) On the floor, sitting criss cross applesauce, so you can reach LEGO bricks within reach, building on the unstable carpet until your knees go numb and you can no longer wiggle your toes.
  • (1) On the floor, laying on your stomach.  The longevity of this position is the shortest, eventually the small of your back will feel as if it is bearing the load of a baby elephant and your neck muscles want to give out. Any LEGO enthusiast can tell you this is only recommended when building "Vigs".  (the lego term for small Vignettes**) (Duh)


3.  When your child asks you to play LEGOs with them do THEY:
  • (3) Build along side of you, picking out the correct pieces as you help assemble.  (muahaha, yeah right!  If you answered yes, you are in complete parental denial.  Now this may hold true for the first 2 minutes of play or if your child is older than 12.)
  • (2) Play with the 2 men the "Bignette" (larger version than a vignette**) came with, running around the house, screaming while you are losing your mind trying not to cuss.  But, still "technically" they are playing LEGOs
  • (1) Watching yo gabba gabba while you are in the dining room going insane because the lego set has collapsed 5 times since you started 2 hours ago. 


4.  Which type of 'blocks' (or sorry, pardon me, I meant to say 'bricks') do you use?
  • (3) LEGOs- the name brand blocks that you could eventually resell on ebay and send your kid to Harvard with all the proceeds
  • (2) Duplos- bahahahaha, you only think you are playing legos with your kid. bahahahaha. Just. Wait. 
  • (1) Clone Brand or Crap-o-Blocks- Any rival building system, such as mega blocks, Tyco or Coco **


5. What is your favorite color of LEGO?  (Now you have no excuse for not using the correct color terms.  Consider yourself enlightened.)
  • (3) Trans Invisible- Term to describe the color of a clear LEGO brick**
  • (2) Bred- Term to describe a brick that is brownish red **
  • (1)  Blaersk- The slightly different, new shade of Maersk Blue**
  • (0) Bley- The derogatory term given to the new grey colors introduced by LEGO in 2004**  


6:  Do you like adding personality to your MOC (My Own Creation, refers to original LEGO creations**)? If so, which best fits your builder fancy?
  • (3) Greeble: Adding small parts to make it look fancy ** If you like the little flowers pieces, doors, windows and colored clear "dots"(the pieces that are so enticing to pop in your mouth and chew the LEGO life out of [or does this just pertain to me?]), this is you. 
  • (2) BOLOCS: Built Of Lots Of Colors** (I like how this acronym doesn't identify the meaning of the last letter...come one Bricktionary!
  • (1) You like to sit on the floor and sift around in the LEGO box hearing the sound of the LEGOs mixing together, this sound is called, Grüschteling**, for those of you who do not know.  Aka: LEGO sensory therapy. Ahhhhhhh....


7: Which is the correct term?

  • (5) LEGO
  • (0) Legos (Endearing (but utterly incorrect) term used by foolish Americans**)(Those Americans!)


8:  When assembling LEGO "Vigs" or "Bigs" for your children, do you REALLY want to:


  • (3) Literally throw an adult sized tantrum, screaming, cursing, throwing LEGOs across the room because the 8th time you try and add an intricate piece on the very top, you crush the entire set, thus sending you into a complete and utter LEGO tailspin, becoming the person you wish your children would never see.   (good, then you're a normal human being, whew!)
  • (2) Avoid the scenario by adding one or two bricks, looking like you care, but really, not so much.  You'd rather be watching Anderson Cooper or checking your e-mail.
  • (1) pshhht... I don't build the LEGO sets, my spouse gets that job.  



9: Which version of LEGOs do you own the most of?

  • (3) Star Wars- On shelves, right now, these are the most expensive.  I saw a teenage girl buy a set for $450 last week.  Seriously.  I am SO glad we are not at that stage yet,  yikes.
  • (2)  Super Heroes-  Of course you can buy super hero toothpaste, animal crackers, underwear, why not buy super hero LEGOS too? 
  • (1) Ninjago- hiiiii-yah!  You are supercool.  They have Ninjago EVERYTHING. Even a TV show. 
  • (1000)  Rocking Horse Poo: Very rare elements** that you buy on E-bay or on the LEGO black market behind the Mexican Flea Market on Saturdays at 10th and Penn. (This is an actual term in the Bricktionary, I cannot make this up)
Now... add up all your points... 

Congratulations.  Your LEGO personality is:

1024-25: Purist: A LEGO-fan who only uses official LEGO elements. Or a LEGO creation that only contains official LEGO elements with no modifications or custom parts. Contrast with Custom**

24-15: Customizer: a LEGO-fan who is not afraid to modify LEGO parts. Customizing may include painting, cutting, drilling, melting LEGO elements, adding other non-LEGO parts to a creation, or adding details with custom-made stickers and decals. These are all considered herecy by a “purist”.**

14-0: KSB: Abbreviation used in polite company to identify a less than brilliant builder among you. ** (and I have NO CLUE what KSB stands for?  You must have to be in the inner sanctum of LEGO nerdery to know this true meaning?)

Thank you for your time.  I am officially OD on L.E.G.O. (is that term allowed?) good night. 


All terms with a ** denotes that it was a definition derived from the Bricktionary at 

  1. http://thebrickblogger.com  or
  2. http://www.tabletownonline.com



Your welcome. Now, please, have 


Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Snip. Snip. Snip.



Well.  There are moments that happen in my life that cause me to pause and think, "This is a memory I will be talking about forever".  Probably a story I will torture my 12 grandchildren with for years to come.

You know the stories your grandmother has retold once a year for your entire life?  The stories you have to grin and bear through, nodding your head and gritting your teeth until it's over, pretending like you haven't head it told one. million. times.?!

Last week, I had one of those moments...a memory maker.  My (then) 4 year old son, CUT my daughters hair. With scissors.  In the bathroom.  Without my knowledge.  I was devastated.

This would be his guilty look...
First off, for those who do not know.  My daughter was born with a ponytail.  Literally, the day she was born, I gathered all the little hairs on the back of her head and tied them up with my ponytail holder and took a picture (a picture that is lost on my other computer) so I could prove to her she was born with enough hair to make a real ponytail. Below I posted a picture of her the day she was born, so you will believe me.  There was even MORE hair in the back of her head. 

 (btw... she was 10 days late.  I always joke that she came out hairier than a little monkey bc she was "over done".  My friends can attest, she even had hair on her ankles and shoulders.  It was creepy.  [Don't worry, she is normal now.])



Okay... so my daughter was born with a lot of hair.  yadda yadda yadda.  Well.  The older my daughter got, the harder it was for me to bear the thought of cutting her hair.  In my mind I felt like she was still to little for a "hair cut", and I liked piggy tails, buns, and pony tails. (Even if she did look like Mel Gibson in the Patriot half the time.  She was so cute, it didn't matter.)  

For Christmas I asked the grandparents to get her a pretend hair styling set, you know the ones that come with a blow dryer, fake curling iron and brush?  Lolli, my husband's mom, went above the call of duty and bought Zadie a Melissa and Doug "Hair Stylist Costume Role Play Set".  (Because Melissa and Doug is the Cadillac line of all children's toys, right!?) It included all the fun stuff I was anticipating, PLUS a fake pair of scissors, so the kids could "ROLE PLAY" the hair stylist.   Why didn't my Mommy Radar kick in and say.... Alert! Alert! Alert!!!  Playing with ANY type of scissors will lead to nothing but trouble?!?!  

Well, actually it did... but she was so darn cute pretending to cut people's hair.  She would even ask you to pay her afterward, and she made 2 DOLLARS in change in 1 week!!!  My heart would melt every time I would sit on the floor and allow her to cut my hair with her "role playing" scissors, and then I'd have to find a penny in the couch cushions to make her continue.  

A lazy afternoon, one week after Christmas, I was home with the 3 kids.  I was in the living room holding the baby, the other two were playing together.  They were playing their favorite "role playing" game, Tony Stark and Pepper.  Daxx, assuming the role of Tony and Zadie playing Pepper (of course).  Tony had to get ready for the day, so he needed a brush and some detangler.  (What man doesn't use detangler everyday?!)  He opened the bottom drawer in our bathroom cabinet and got out his supplies with Pepper right on his tail.  As he was fixing himself up to hop into his "Iron Man" suit for a day's work, Pepper discovered the scissors in the back of the drawer.  And of course she thought, "Oh... Scissors.  Hair Stylist. Yes.  I need my hair cut.  Now!".  So Pepper handed Tony the scissors and said, "Will you please cut my hair?".  

Meanwhile, here I am, sitting in the living room, proud and puffed up because my children and playing together!!  No one is screaming, crying, or fighting over toys.  I am looking at my cute baby who is cooing and being oh-so-cute and all of a sudden...everything in my house goes silent.  It's as if someone hit the mute button on my life and then I hear... SNIP. SNIP. SNIP.  

Immediately, I scream, "FREEEEZZZE!!  Stop Now!!  Put. the. SCISSORS. down.!!!!  NOOOOooooo!" (Oh, and I basically throw my infant to the ground and he starts screaming bloody murder because he's terrified)

I run in slow motion to the bathroom.  And, this is what I find.... 



2 children and a large pile of hair in the middle of the bathroom floor.  

The damage was done.  My daughters precious hair was chopped off.  Though I could swear I heard 3 snips, I only spotted 2 chunks missing from her hair in the back.  (Maybe God spared her from the 3rd snip!  A modern day miracle, possibly?)  After a thorough examination, I realized the chunks were big enough to call in the reinforcements for some damage control.  

The rumor is that "she told him to do it".  No one got in trouble.  I think it was a result of the "Role Playing they had been doing for the last month with Zadie's new toy.  I will say, they both received a long talk about scissors and how we NEVER. EVER. cut hair or anything else, unless Mommy or our teacher tells us to. 

I later made an appointment for Zadie Bug to get a real hair cut.  She went to see our friend Chelsea and my-oh-my does she look cute.  

I am not sure why I waited so long to cut her hair.   Maybe I was holding onto that long hair for my own sake rather than hers.  This cut is not only cute, but it doesn't get in her face; and as a bonus, she no longer looks like Mel Gibson in the Patriot (or Braveheart, as her "before picture" below resembles).  


She did grow up a little more, but she was ready.   Maybe I wasn't ready, but she was.  



Monday, January 21, 2013

I Blinked, and Then He Was FIVE

I have a 5 year old son!!  Me!  

I cannot believe my son has turned 5, an entire hand full of fingers.  



What a handsome fellow, if I do say so myself. 












Saturday, January 19, 2013

You Changed My Life Forever


Let me introduce you to the boy who gave me the title, "Mom". 

His name is Daxxon Michael. 
Born on Saturday morning, January 19 at 8:44am. 
Weighing in at 7 pounds, 8 ounces. Measuring 20 inches long.  

Before I had children I knew nothing about raising kids, and especially nothing about caring for a baby.  I was the oldest of 2, and my brother was 3 years younger than me and frankly, I don't remember one  minute of his infancy.  Yes, I had cousins, but I lived out of state when they were babies.  One very close cousin of mine was born when I was 15, but she was a year old when she came into our lives through adoption.  She was well past the wobbly head stage.  

Prior to having my own baby, I assumed that the moment you popped the little baby-doll out,  the heavens would part and a bright light would shine down on you while holding your infant in your arms and "waaalaaa" it would be love at first sight.  Time would stop and there would be angels singing the hallelujah chorus, your breath would be taken away with the overwhelming since of pride and affection you had for this little being.  

Well.  That moment never happened for me. 
(maybe for others it did, but for me... not so much)

After I threw up 3 times while pushing a baby human out of my body, the nurse threw the mucousy, bloody, limp baby on my chest and immediately my first thought was...
"Oh, this is not the moment I had in mind.  Please, get this mess of a human off my naked chest and give IT a bath!"

Then as quickly as they threw him up there, they swept him away. 

The nurse took him, sewed me up with a needle that resembled Captain Hook's hand, then handed my baby back to me.  I took him from the hurried nurse and wanted to crumble.  I wanted to cry, not because of the heart full of love that I had, but because I was exhausted.  I labored all night long, with a waiting room full of 20+ people, I threw my guts up and probably pooped in front of 10 people I didn't know, and I desperately needed a hot shower and a long nap.  Basically, I was emotionally and physically exhausted.
  
(Needless to say my first born's birth story is not something I love to relive)

I looked down at my new little son, and thought to myself, "Who are you?! What have I done?!  Where are is the chorus of angels I expected?!".  Over the next 48 hours the nurses tried to teach me the (insert air quotes here) "Womanly Art of Breastfeeding".  The poor ladies tried to give me tips on how to care for and bathe my baby, but I am sure I just stared back at them with glazed eyes.... eyes resembling a dear caught in headlights, about to get struck down by a semi truck. 

(I would like to refer to said semi truck as "motherhood") 

Then we went home. 

After our short stent in 'babymoon' land, we braved the first night in our humble abode with my husband, my mom, and me passing around the SCREAMING infant.  We all looked at each other clueless.  Surely, one of us should know what to do with this crying baby, but... we didn't.  We just braved the night hours until the morning sun rose and Daxx was so exhausted that the crying eventually stopped. 

That first year, many tears were shed.  On Daxx's behalf and mine as well.  

Being a Mom was tough business and no one informed me of this! There were breastfeeding classes and birthing classes, prenatal messages and registering.... BUT, where was the SANITY class, and when and where was I supposed to register for the DIY Motherhood Manuel?  Where was the TRUE friend who pulled you aside and said, "You are about to encounter the roughest year of your life.  You are about to view poop, pee, boogers and vomit as daily accessories.  You might not brush your hair for two days, just try to at least make time to brush your teeth.  Pajamas are your new uniform, and don't be embarrassed if you try to make imaginary friends with the girls from the View". 

In hindsight, I would have laughed at that "true friend" and then talked about her behind her back.  Because.  I was SO prepared. 

(yeah. right.) 

But God is Good.  (Can I get an, Amen!)  He knew this little man before he gave him to me.  And God knew this little man was going to ROCK MY WORLD.  The good Lord above was going to refine this woman with motherhood.  He was going to take this self absorbed, prideful, intelligent, 20-something, plop a baby in her arms and show her that HE ALONE IS GOD.  

My world did change the day my son was born.  It has been rough, but beautiful.  It has be hard, but so exciting.  It has been difficult, but God alone has provided wisdom, energy and competence.  

In Jeremiah 1:5, God speaks to Jeremiah and says,
"Before I formed you I KNEW you, before you were born I set you apart"

I recently have been meditating on this verse and realized that our existence doesn't start at conception, but way before.  God KNOWS us before he forms us.  He KNOWs our children, he purposefully gave us these special kiddos with an intention.  An intention we may never know, but the inconceivable God of the universe knows me, and he knew I needed this little boy in my life.  A boy so dear to God that He alone knows his inner most thoughts, the number of hairs on his head, the future of his life and purpose for his being.  My love for this dear boy is nothing compared to God's love for him... which that is A. LOT. of love!!  Sometimes I am convinced my heart might burst it is so full of love


Daxx had a terrific birthday... one we are still celebrating.  And as I sit back and watch him play and ponder on the years that have past, I couldn't be more thankful for the roll he has played in my life.  

He is the boy, who changed my life forever. 



Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...