Category Archives: Awesome Children

The Terror of Terraria

Today we learned (once again) the perils of permitting a 4-year-old to play the iPad.

All three of our boys love Terraria. The teen works with his friends to take down bosses and sometimes permits middle son to help. Middle son proudly informs us all what accomplishments he’s made and sometimes even succeeds in making the teen jealous. And our wee guy runs around telling us that he wants whatever cool things we happen to have (and squealing with infectious delight at whatever he finds).

And all three express their creativity in unique ways, whether it’s a large structure full of traps and lava to grind up monsters into gold coins, a strange combination of clothes and items to give their character a funny appearance, or a silly house built into the sky.

But the happiness could not last…

What could this mean? Clicking "Yes" always seems to work well...
What could this mean? Clicking “Yes” always seems to work well…

I stepped out of the bedroom to discover my middle son sitting on the couch heartbroken and my little guy hiding in his big sister’s bedroom awaiting the trouble he knew he was in.

Alas, no amount of defensive armor or powerful magic gear will protect against the mighty delete button. Somehow, he purged my middle son’s primary character. Dozens of hours of advancement and effort, permanently gone at the touch of a finger on the iPad’s surface.

I was pleasantly surprised to find out that the little one did the right thing once he realized he’d done wrong. He went to his older brother, apologized, and confessed what happened–without anyone telling him to do so.

We discussed the consequences of what happened. After the initial emotion, they calmed down and made up. And then we formed a plan to help make sure no similar accidents happen in the future. I spent some time playing to help my son find a few of the items he lost, and his new character is caught up pretty well.

My wife commented that life sure is different for our four year old compared to what she experienced at that age. There wasn’t any “Johnny deleted my saved game” or “Sarah’s saying mean things over Xbox Live.”

But age-old principles still apply. When we do something wrong, we own up to it and make it right.

This reminded me of a phenomenal post on Penny Arcade, a (frequently vulgar and crass and rude) web comic I follow, written and drawn by video game aficionados. The artist spent an evening doing a presentation and Q&A for his local Parent Teachers’ Association. It’s a long but well-written discussion about rules for game time and social interaction.

If you’re a parent whose knowledge of your kids’ hobbies is “they play the Minecrafts and Call of Duty on that Game Box One thing,” then this is definitely for you. But if you’re like me and my wife, and have struggled with questions like “how much game time is too much” and “what can I let the kids do online” then that link gives some great insight.

I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences too. What has changed the most in your opinion since you were a child? What would you add to Mike’s thoughts in the Penny Arcade link?

Tahwaria

My four year old has a new favorite topic of conversation… one shared with my nine year old and my teenage son: Terraria. (Or Tahwaria, as the four year old says it so very often.)

  
For the uninitiated, it’s a game available on PC, on consoles like XBox 360 and PS4, and on mobile devices like Kindle and iPad… and probably some others. 

So, discussions with our little Dude now center around important Terraria facts: 

Do you know about Wepis? (Lepus)
He is BIG. And he is a BOSS. And to fight him you need a subishis wooking egg. (suspicious looking egg)
His face looks funny. But he can’t kill me though. WAIT. WHAT? I DIED.

Armed with a wooden sword, ax, and pickaxe, your tiny character lands in a sprawling world full of dangerous beasties. You build a home for the character that serves as your guide, and then explore and expand from there. Finding and defeating powerful boss monsters unlocks new aspects to the game along with more assistance from the folks who want to “settle down” in your growing complex of houses. There’s a definite RPG side to the game as you find or craft better armor and more powerful melee, ranged, and magical weapons.

Like a two-dimensional Minecraft, this game usually encourages creativity and constructive cooperation among my kids and their friends. My four year old can play around and build things or dig for shiny metals. My nine year old can fight enemies and explore the dangers of the world. And my fourteen year old coordinates with his friends to take down the massive world boss monsters in order to unlock new types of materials. There’s also the option to turn on player-vs-player and fight it out with your frenemies.

The game isn’t perfect. A recent update or perhaps an inherent glitch caused the loss of my character and a few weeks’ worth of progress. Cloud saving might have prevented that, but some reviews on the iTunes Store implied that even cloud saved characters can sometimes encounter similar problems. Device issues can also cause trouble. The Kindle my nine year old uses somehow purged itself of all data, and he lost everything he’d done. 

That said, the game is addicting and interesting enough that both he and I find ourselves starting over, lamenting what was lost but enjoying building a new world nonetheless.

The kids also play with me sometimes, mocking my lack of progress and my general noob status. “Oh, you’re making items and armor out of iron? That’s cute. I barely remember ever needing that. Did I show you my rocket launcher, my space armor, and my machine gun?”

One day soon, I’ll catch up to them. I just need to find some more tungsten ore for that sword I want to make…

Lightsaber Hugs

Today when I left home for work, my three year old shouted, “Bye Daddy, I love you!” And of course that melts my heart. I offered him a hug, and he paused, then said, “No.”

He bent over, grabbed his toy lightsaber, and held it out. “Lightsaber hugs,” he demanded.

“What? You want me to hug your lightsaber?”

“Yeah.” Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t you hug a lightsaber?

So I did, and as I drove away, I thought about those strange, unexpected moments I’ve experienced with my kids.

My daughter, at about that age, playing with a telephone toy and declaring, “Mommy, I have to make a cone fall!”

My eldest son, leading the effort to dogpile on Daddy, laying straight across my back with his arms at his sides, then going limp, declaring, “Dead fish!” (This was followed by a stack of dead fish when the other kids joined in.)

My middle boy, who would charge into me and then rub his head back and forth while gently punching my stomach… “What are you doing?” I asked. His answer? “I’m bestroying you!”

Nose biting… my infant daughter would smile wide and nom the tip of my nose. For whatever reason, she’d always look off to her right when she did it. This was a habit that somehow carried over to my other children, each of which have bitten my nose.

Punches in the fat… the middle boy loves to push a fist into my stomach every now and then, perhaps as a reminder to work out and eat smarter than I normally do.

Our three year old loves to yell at everyone, proclaiming a rule against flatulence by declaring, “No Peeping!”

The eldest boy discovered he could climb the walls in doorways and hallways like a ninja… fitting since he’s the one who decided that when he grows up he wants to be “a rock scientist… Ooh! Or maybe a ninja!” And now our middle boy has learned the same trick.

So what’s the point of this post?

Basically kids are awesome, but sometimes we have to take a minute to remember it.

What experiences do you have with the ridiculous antics of children? Let me know in a comment, please. I’d love to share in the joy.

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Sleeping In… NEVAR!!

What to do with a little man who consistently wakes up at 6:30 AM… even on the weekends!

Today’s answer was to give up, get out, grab coffee, and bring home breakfast for the family.

Our little dude is still on Central time, I think, while we are visiting Washington state. So his wake-up is timed for 8:30 back home, which is pleasant and generally reasonable (unless you ask my teenage daughter).

I heard him sniffling and making some scared noises when I woke up, so I checked on him to see if he was ok. Tucked him in, laid down next to him for a minute, made sure he wasn’t upset. Then I hugged his brother, and left the room.

Seconds later, I heard the “thum-thum-thum-thum-thump” of toddler feet jogging (clearly wide awake) down the hall toward the play room full of toys.

No hope for sleeping in, I decided it was a good time for a pajama-clad trip to a coffee shop (first things first) and then fast food breakfast. We hopped into the van as the first touches of sunrise lit the sky.

We got coffee at Dutch Brothers, where I made a smooth impression by knocking over their cup display at the drive through window with my side mirror.

We grabbed some McD’s for the Mommy and the brother staying with us (the two teenagers are sleeping at Grandma’s). Then we got a Jack-in-the-Box sammich for the kindly Uncle who has welcomed us into his home for the week-long trip.

I filled up the gas tank, coordinated a bit with my Chief back home, and got back to the house to dig in to some yums.

All the while, the energetic Dude sat in his car seat, chatting with me, cheering and clapping at our success, and watching the brightening morning sky with wide eyes.

8:45 AM and we’re off to a good start.

Maybe I can get a nap now.

The Best Lunch

As an aside, I sure do love writing challenges. I discovered the last Daily Post writing challenge a little late in the week, but still enjoyed the creative spark it provided. This week’s challenge seems quite simple: jot down some lunchtime observations. Maybe there will be more of these, but today’s ‘lunch’ was special for me.

It’s 2 PM, or 3, or so.
I’ve lost track, don’t really know.

Teenage Daughter’s at her friend’s house
Watching YouTube videos.

Wifey has a meeting over lunch
And the boys, they begged to go.

That leaves me and Three-Year-Old
Napping in Wifey’s recliner.

Cuddled up, side by side,
I’m sure no lunch was ever finer.

And though no food did I prepare,
I’ve rarely felt so satisfied
Than after this day’s lunchtime fare.

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Sky Castles and Peaceful Siblings

My 13 year old son sometimes worries me.

He’s playing Minecraft, which is essentially a giant Lego set on the computer or XBox.

He has built a sky castle hovering above the clouds, with elaborate towers, a church (with a stained-glass window), and a glowstone cross in the distance.

Then he set up an array of iron golems “prepped for war” like Qin Shi Huang’s stone warriors in ancient China. By making a T of iron blocks and placing a pumpkin atop it, you get a moving iron golem to defend you against monsters.

About three months ago, he came home with his little brother (who is 8), and they were raving about playing Minecraft at their friends’ house.

“Can we get it? Can we get it? It’s $20.”

“You mean you were actually playing with your little brother for the last two hours instead of fighting with him?”

“Yeah. It was fun.”

Creativity plus peace in the home?

“Sold. Let me download that right now.”

Taking Root

Thinking of my kids as we move, and the advice I’d rather not give them but I know applies:

Push those roots down
But not too deep
Widespread roots come up easy
Ripping away some clods of dirt
Leaving a scar on the surface
Which quickly covers over
With new grass

Deep roots don’t come up
Without violent force
Strong hands grasping,
Crushing, straining
Until everything breaks free
Deep roots leave a hole
And a damaged plant

Found a new place for you
A familiar spot to settle in
The ground is soft and moist
The air warm and damp
You’ll grow well here
So push those roots down
But not too deep.

What's in a Name?

Last night over dinner, I spent some time teaching my 3-year-old son how to headbang.

Ok, it wasn’t a good mosh-pit style thrashing. He bobbed his head to the music more forcefully than he usually does. And he started singing with me, trying to sound out the words a couple beats after I sang them.

His name means “praise,” and he has been actively interested in music as long as he’s been expressing a personality. The Wifey and I chatted about how interesting it is that he reflects his name, or that his name reflects his personality. Sort of a chicken-or-egg thing. We’re not sure which it is.

We’ve always been very selective about our names for our children. Each time, we discussed and weighed options until we knew we had the name that was exactly right.

The Wifey knew for certain what she wanted to name our firstborn before she even met me. She had a promise from God that she would one day have a daughter with a particular biblical name. When everyone else was positive our first was going to be a boy, Wifey held on to that promise (and a couple other indicators) and knew it would be a girl.

Now 14 years old, our daughter sometimes acts a lot like a boy, so maybe that threw everyone off.

Her name means “bee,” and she’s our social butterfly, flitting from one group of people to the next. Living in the military means making new friends and moving away from others, and our kids have had to adapt to that. But the Bee is the one who always comes home with a list of unfamiliar names and relationships – “Oh, Jonny is the brother of Alicia, she’s the sister of Amara, the one I was hanging out with when I met Charlie, the kid across the street that knows Thomas, Matthew’s friend that Jonathan met yesterday at the park when Hailey came out.” All of it stated matter-of-fact, like duh, why don’t you guys know all this yet?

Our 12 year old son has two middle names, one which means “watchman” and one which comes from a biblical reference for a tribe of Israel who paid attention to things going on around them and thus knew what God’s people ought to do. And sure enough, he is our details-oriented, wide-eyed, “how does it work?” little scientist. He’s into studying rocks and electronics. He watches all the educational shows on NetFlix to figure things out (Man vs Wild is a current fave, and he has built his own survival kit). He builds makeshift machines with the spare parts he collects from disassembling devices.

He took apart his grandparents’ VCR when he was 1. We were there around Christmas, and he was crawling around just doing his baby thing while we visited and chatted. Then we looked up and realized he had VCR parts in his hand, and the front of the VCR was off. He also did this at my parents’ house too, except this time it was unscrewing a wall fixture with… we still don’t know how he did it.

I guess he watches for when we’re not watching, too!

Then there’s our “middle” boy, 8 years old, whose name means “Justice.” Like most middles, he is keenly attuned to any sense of unfairness. If someone gets something, then everyone better, or else we’ll hear about it. He even enforces this standard when it’s to his own detriment, because he’s so passionate about fairness. I’m sure we tried to teach him equity, fairness, and so on. But we never made it a bigger deal than everything else. That’s just how his personality has turned out.

My name, too, has been particularly appropriate. King David was the psalmist of Israel, and more Psalms are written by him than any other. I took eight years of piano lessons, but what I learned most through all of that is how to let the piano “speak” for me, how to sit and pour emotion and feeling out through the keys. My mother would relax in her recliner and listen to me play for hours. She told me more than once how appropriate my name was, and how much she hoped that I would use music to bless others and minister for God just as King David had.

So what’s in a name? What power does a name have over the thing it represents, if any?

My wife posed this question yesterday as we talked. “Do you think God helped us choose names that would fit their personalities? Or do you think God met us in the names we chose, and their personalities developed to fit what we spoke over them?”

I’m not sure. Of course, maybe it’s all coincidence, and it just worked out that way.

Do you know of a particularly appropriate name? Have you seen how names reflect personalities, or vice versa? I’d love to hear about it in a comment.

Happy Bird Day

I call this blog Literary Karaoke because I realized that my writing – like many other things I do – is good enough for people to enjoy it for free, but not necessarily good enough to make a living.

I play piano really well, but I fall into that same category. And I also draw a decent picture… decent enough that people like my artwork, but not so much that I can hang up my military hat and draw a paycheck. (See what I did there?)

Let’s add another thing to the list: Cakes!

Good enough for the price I paid.
Good enough for the price I paid.

Good enough to please our 8 year old birthday boy… and that’s what counts.

He’s the middle child. Technically he’s one of two middle children, but our oldest boy (12 now) and teenage daughter (14 last week) are usually teamed up. So the Angry Bird lover is the one who most often gets excluded, and exhibits the “middle child” symptoms the most.

We aimed to make today special – he got to have one of his friends over for cake, ice cream, and a movie. He got a present from a friend of our oldest boy. He opened gifts from his grandparents, and I surprised him with a Lego set my wife and I had hidden away.

We ate a cheap decoy cake while the cake I made was cooling in the fridge.

But then his friend gets a knock on the door in the middle of the movie. Other neighborhood kids want the friend to come out and bike around the housing area or whatever. And this friend’s logic is, “Well, I have already seen this movie, so…” and he walks out.

Pretty crappy, if you ask me.

At the same time, it’s a hard life lesson. Sadly, all too often, people don’t care about you except for how you benefit them. “I’ll come over for the cake and the ice cream until something more interesting comes along.”

My son didn’t seem to mind, but I still brought him over and let him curl up on my lap to watch the rest of the movie. He snuggled up and fell asleep. It was a rare moment, especially considering how he keeps getting older. (Why don’t they just stay at that perfect cute age of…well, not growing up so fast?)

After the movie, he got up, built his Lego set (which was promptly destroyed by the 2 year old), and played on his scooter outside for a bit. And I decorated the cake with his favorite bird, his favorite color, his favorite frosting, and some surprise treats in the form of Angry Birds gummies around the edges.

Because I want him to know that no matter what the world says or does, no matter how often they’re content to take what they want from him and then set him aside, there’s one thing he can count on.

Mom and Dad think he’s amazing, and there’s always a special place for him here.

And sometimes there’s cake.