Clarity

March 27, 2012 by Rieshy
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 Unfathomable Adults or the need for speech therapy?

The sun was shining down on me as I watched a group of children eat at picnic tables at a church luncheon.  I was drowsy and full of cheese cake and not really paying attention when my 4 year old ran up and told me, "Don't worry mom, I'm on the other side of the shed playing with Cal." Except my 4 year old can't pronounce 'l' it always sounds like a 'w'.

Ooops, I hadn't noticed my son or the pack of youngsters I was supposedly watching had disappeared; I had to pretend to be relieved.

"But mom, don't worry he's not really."

"He's not really on the other side of the shed?" I asked starting to worry.

"No, he's just a boy,"  my son exclaimed rather impatiently.

"O.K.?"

My implied question slowed him down again.  Mother's can be sooo inconvenient.  He sighed, "I mean he's not really a cow.  His parents just call him that..... I don't know why."



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Theology and Illustrations

March 14, 2012 by Rieshy
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I was reading the story of Noah to my 5 year old out of an illustrated children's story Bible this morning.  While I read my son was busy counting.

"Mom, who are the men building the arc?"

"That's Noah and his sons," I answered as I attempted to turn the page.

"Wait a minute, Noah didn't have 5 sons.  Who are those other guys?  They are working really hard and they don't look evil."

Ummmm....
The story of the flood is not really a cuddly, pastel-colored children's story.


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Dangerous Toys

March 10, 2012 by Rieshy
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For Christmas I purchased Perfection for one of my younger boys in an attempt to be educational.

It's the game that's been around at least since I was a kid.  You set a timer and lower the puzzle tray and then attempt to fit all the pieces in and turn off the timer before time is "up".  If you don't succeed the timer goes off and the puzzle tray springs up, throwing the pieces everywhere.

Silly me.  I assumed my children would sit quiet and serene, learning shape names and perfecting pattern recognition and hand eye coordination.

Instead I may have to have them debriefed for post traumatic stress.

Evidently the ticking of the timer reminded someone, not sure who the guilty party was, of a bomb.  The way they play the game does not involve sitting.  Instead, a player will randomly set the game timer- complete with pieces- and then slip into a room full of unsuspecting siblings, place the game on the floor, slam the door and run.  The last person in the room when the timer goes off "dies".

Note- their variation of the game is anything but serene, quiet, or orderly.

I guess my educational goal should have been emergency procedures for bomb threats.


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