Showing posts with label toys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label toys. Show all posts

Thursday, 23 August 2007

The Train I Almost Missed

Tiernan was heavily into Thomas for a while. He spent two-years under the spell of the "Really Useful Blue Engine." For his second Christmas, (making him just shy of two-years old at the time, for those of you scoring at home) I, er uh, Santa got him Fisher-Price's GeoTrax trains. Santa was hoping that the trains would act as a sort of methadone for his Thomas addiction and ween him off. Santa was wrong..
The GeoTrax, for those of you without children or boys, is collection of toys, trains, cars, boats, fire trucks, etc. that run on battery power over tracks, which are easily connected. It is an ingenious design. The Fisher-Price folks also sell buildings, bridges, factories, fire houses, everything a little mayor-in-training needs to create a city. To a Dad, that has taken his desire to play with trains and converted it to many many nights playing Sim City until 4 a.m., the GeoTrax stuff is just about the coolest thing ever to buy his future city planner/architect/mayor.

I was naive to the seedy underworld of toys, being a Dad of only eighteen-months I didn't want to believe that toys could have a downside. Toys were toys. Now I know better. Now, I am a veteran dad of many battles and two tours of duty I see that not everything is as it seems.

Geotrax are cool. However, like all railroads, they are not without their problems. Tiernan likes to run his trains much like Sir Topham Hatt or Benito Mussolini, "The people may complain about their civil liberties, but the train run on time" and some of the GeoTrax engines don't perform up to his his standards. Some are slower than others.

But the major drawback to GeoTrax is they are sort of bulky, they aren't big, but big enough for little hands to manipulate them; put them on the track, connect the tracks. The size it what makes them effective toys for toddlers. That size, is its biggest draw back. (Especially, when an over-excited father, er, Santa can't help himself and goes overboard and buys two trains, the track pack, the fire truck set, the helicopter set, the construction set, well you get the picture.) The GeoTrax tend to be all over the place. When it is up and running and everything is together, it can fill a room. Now, add a little sister into the equation. A little sister who, can't help but take tracks apart, because she's six- or ten-months old. Resulting in GeoTrax everywhere and repeated anguished cries of "Dad, Reagan keeps touch my trains!"

When they are strewn across the landscape, the Geotrax become GeoTraps, waiting for adults to misstep. Like living room land mines, bidding time to twist an ankle. These GeoTraps are designed to take out the unfortunate bastard carrying a laundry basket, causing clean laundry to fly around the room like cloth shrapnel, leaving him writhing in pain, cursing, and covered in panties and boxer shorts. Or worse yet, contributing to the national heartache that is a missing sock.

There is nothing sadder than a sock without a mate. When one goes missing, another feels the pain. It is the sock that stayed true which suffers the most. It is shunned by the other socks in the drawer, because it can't keep its mate. It just sits in the drawer, being pushed around because it is always in the way. It is just waiting, hoping that its mate will come back. But, deep down it knows it is just a day or two away from becoming a rag, or worse going to the landfill.

After many months of sister-interference related time outs and twisted ankles and missing sock, the it was decided that the GeoTrax would be banished to the bedroom. It was the perfect plan. They became bedroom toys. Tiernan would get up early and put together the tracks around his bed. Nobody would be tripping over them. Reagan would leave them alone. And once every two weeks or so, I'd order Tiernan to put them away. A brilliantly conceived plan, executed to perfection. The GeoTraps stayed in hi room for six months.

Until one day last week. One morning, Tiernan woke up and decided he wanted to take his GeoTrax downstairs and play with them all day. I was against this. It was contrary to my aforementioned brilliant, perfect plan. As Sir Topham Hatt would say, "It could cause confusion and delay." I told Tiernan that the GeoTraps would have to stay in his room.

Cue the meltdown. He totally spazed out. He was crying, screaming, kicking, pulling out all the stops, relentless in his tear filled pleas. I tried to stay strong. I tried to explain to him why the trains had to stay in his room. However, my reasoning left, even me, unconvinced. And I began to ask myself, "Why won't you let your son play with his toys?" My answer came back, "Because I might trip over them." And it sounded comical and selfish. I looked down at my son's sobbing face red, lower lip quivering, tears filling his eyes ready to follow the tracks of the their bother tears down his cheeks. It wasn't a power struggle. It wasn't life and death. He just wanted to play with his toys. The toys that I bought for my boy. That I was excited to get him. I felt like a selfish, childish, dictator. Not a father, certainly not a Dad. I hugged him tight and told him that I would bring his GeoTrax downstairs and we could set the up and play together.

And we did. We had a blast. He loved it. We had trains running all through the house. The gods smiled on us. Reagan was napping. She took a longer nap than usual, allowing a boy and his dad to play trains. It was one of the better days, Tiernan and I have had. And we've had some great days. But, my own pigheadedness almost caused me to miss that train. Thank God, I rechecked the schedule.

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Friday, 20 July 2007

No Toys or Ghosts at the Table

Everybody knows that toys are not allowed at the dinner table. This is a steadfast rule in every house in the world (at least those that respect the sanctity of the family breaking bread together.) The TV may be on, but the toys stay in the den. Tiernan is well aware of this rule, and rarely attempts to bring a toy to the table at dinner, lunch and breakfast however...

These are less formal meals and he thinks he can sneak a train or car to the table during these meals. Perhaps, it is less the reverence for the importance of the meal and it is more of a real estate issue. During breakfast and lunch there is only three of us eating, and no pots or pans -- serving dishes to occupy the table space. Thus allowing space for Thomas and the gang from Sodor or Lightning and Mater. I think perhaps, it has more to do with space to play, than a sense of solemnity.

This morning I surprised Tiernan with two new NASCAR die cast cars, which I had ordered from Ebay. (Insert redneck joke here.) I know --- I am redneck, but the kid loves the racecars and I can spoil my only son. He was happy. Enthralled with the new cars and would not let them out of his hands, let alone his sight.

As Tiernan, Reagan and I were at lunch he had the cars with him at the table, but he was being good about not playing with them. He was eating and singing. I didn't notice the toy cars on the table. He was pretty much ignoring them.

As I am eating my lunch, Reagan said something it what to me was gibberish. All of a sudden Tiernan says to Reagan, "Don't say that anymore. Don't say that!"

"What did she say?" I asked bewildered.

"She said, 'No toys at the table.'" responded Tiernan.

WHAT!!! "Reagan said 'No toys at the table.' Really?"

"Yes," he said. "She shouldn't say that. I know toys aren't allowed at the table. I am not playing with them. I just looking."

"Reagan, Did you say that?," I asked bothered that I didn't hear her.

She just smiles the grin that she has that means, "Yes." It involves bared teeth and devilish giggle.

If she did say that -- WOW. I don't know if she really did. I have some doubts, but she has been talking a whole lot more of late. It is possible, that Tiernan pick up the words through the gibberish. Arguable, he is closer to speaking gibberish then I am, perhaps he has a better ear for these things.

Now, lets assume that she did say that phrase. She does hear me when I speak. And she was informing on her brother. The fact that he had his toys on the table upset her, and she said something. Perhaps she was upset that he got new toys and she didn't. Perhaps she was upset that she could not get down to get her own toys and bring them to the table.

Perhaps she didn't say it at all.

Let's take the position that she is just 17-months old (Holy crap! She is 17-months old. I have been telling people that she is 15-months old.) and just getting a handle on the whole speaking thing and still doesn't have the understanding to follow the rules. (Which was my position, prior to Tiernan's outburst.) So, she didn't say it. Tiernan just heard it. Should I be concerned about Tiernan's psyche? Is he that worried about being a bad boy that he's hearing his little sister rat him out to me? Is there some sort of brother/sister psychic connection what allows him to understand her? Like twins. I don't know, I am an only child. Such things could exist? Right. Maybe, Tiernan has the shinning and this house is haunted and someone else spoke it into Tiernan's ear.

Perhaps she did say it. I think she said it. The upside of having a smart well adjusted 17-month old is higher than the upside of having a psychic 3-year old and haunted house. She said it.

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