Tag Archives: technology

I’m a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Mom!

13 Jan

It’s nearly 3 weeks past Christmas.  19 days after the biggest day of the year, where my boys got enough toys to supply a small country.  And yet, I’m watching the two of them as they roll around on the floor…bored.  The newest and latest in gadgets and plastics are gathering dust in their rooms and all my kids want to do is play the Wii, watch T.V. or play computer games.  Sure, I could give in and allow my kids to become technological zombies, but what can I say, I actually care about their brains.  I want them to discover their imaginations; to create an invisible friend, to role play, problem solve, and discover the secret joys of silence.  And I want it all without the aid of a Nano-chip or Gigawatt or whatever the hell the inner workings of technology are called.  Don’t get me wrong, there are a lot of great things that have come from this hi-tech age: e-mail, cell phones, digital cameras and let’s not forget this wonderful little blog.  But there are also a lot of disadvantages with technology, the main one being… it’s made us lazy.

Now this is the part where I reminisce about the ‘good old days’ and say things like “when I was a kid” but sometimes, it’s true.  When I was a kid, which really wasn’t THAT long ago, my little brother Justin and I wanted one of those battery powered cars.  You know the ones with the gas pedal and stirring wheel that actually drove.  There were convertibles and jeeps and only the truly spoiled kids had them.  We used to watch those kids drive around the sidewalks with envy dripping from our faces.  But whenever we put it at the top of our lists for birthdays or Christmas, it never seemed to materialize.  Now I know they were expensive, but to us the only logical explanation was simply that our parents didn’t love us as much as those “other parents.”  To us, our parents were terrible, horrible, no good, very bad parents.  I mean, we didn’t even have one of those Flintstone cars where you sat inside and used your own legs to power it (which my best friend had by the way).  So, determined to have some sort of transportation, my brother and I set out to make one.

We acquired a large cardboard box, about dishwasher size (probably from an actual dishwasher) and one of my Dad’s four wheel dollies.  In case you don’t know what a dolly is see one here.  So, with our box and our dolly we went to work.  We used a box cutter to carefully carve out a space for the windshield and two doors that opened and closed.  We cut out windows  and we even used markers to draw designs on the outside of it.  After the initial cuts were in order, we put our custom box on top of the dolly and we took our new car for a test drive.  But of course, without a battery or even a place to use our own foot power, our test drive consisted of me sitting inside the box and my little brother pushing me from behind.  But the wheels carried us well and in our eyes it was a success.  In fact we had such fun making it, we wanted to do more.  I made curtains for the windows using scissors and old towels and my brother used saran wrap to make an actual windshield.  I think by the time we were done with it, it resembled more of a motor home than a battery powered car, but you get the picture.

Sadly, this is not the actual "box car."

 

We worked on it for two weekends straight, and yet I think we only “drove” the thing for a total of twenty minutes (mainly because my engine/brother would tire easily).  I’m sure it wasn’t nearly as glorious looking as I remember.  I’m sure it was probably quite sad to see two poor children pushing a box up and down the neighborhood but to us, it was everything we wanted.  And to my Mom, it kept us out of her hair for a while.

So now, as I lock my kids in their rooms and demand they play with their toys I can feel secure in being a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad Mom.  I know they’ll thank me for it later.

Which by the way, thanks Mom and Dad for not loving us as much as those “other parents.”  We had a blast.

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