Her Hearts Desire

This is a picture of Gracie Peak's birthday bin. A birthday bin is something we do here at hopscotch that is like a registry, but way cooler because the kids actually get to place their hearts desire into the bin. (the bin size also forces them to choose what they REALLY want, not everything in the store) I have come to look at them as little snapshots of the inner workings of a child at a certain point in time. Gracie is a very well rounded girl, she has her knight dress up stuff, her cupcake box, lots of charms for her charm bracelet, a sword, a huge sucker, the Klutz Guide to Immaturity, and a few other things. My kind of girl. What a child wants is a great insight into what is of value to them and who they are at any given time. I don't keep my children's report cards. I keep their Santa letters.
Wish lists and wants give insight into adult priorities also. I am a project girl, and with every project there are things that I intensely desire. When I look back through my notebooks, whether my want list included a spiral staircase, a Kubota tractor, a composting toilet, a milk cow, a herd of goats, a gambrel truss system, or a new point of sale system, offers great insight into who I was and what I was trying to accomplish at that point in my life. Many of these things I acquired, some of them (goats for instance) I am thankful I did not. That is another thing that is important to remember in these times of immediate and complete gratification. Sometimes the best thing you can give your child is to leave them yearning for that thing that is not appropriate for them or you can't afford. I have keen recollections of all the toys I wanted and never got. The memories of those longings are every bit as sweet as the memories of playing with the toys I did get. Open ended desire, longing, is vilified as lack of fulfillment, but sometimes the fantasy of what your life could be like with that shiny new thing is far more precious than the thing itself.

Beating the Heat!

Yeah, we all know about the pool, the water gun, the slip and slide and the river, but when temperatures get up above 100 degrees it doesn't prudent to spend any time in it at all. That is why this afternoon, my living room was full of teenagers making hemp bracelets and playing musical instruments. Curtains drawn, well insulated house, and big shade trees made it the perfect place to hole up. My kids learned to weave hemp using the Klutz Hemp Bracelet Book.We broke it out today to teach the other kids. Though the hemp and beads that came with it have long been used, we now have a tin full of various beads, spools of colored hemp, sinew, and beading thread. I have loved Klutz since my son was five and picked up the "How to Draw Marvel Comic Figures" book. Lived with it, drew and drew and moved on to draw more. I think that is what impresses me most about Klutz. We have lots of arts and crafts stuff in the store, but Klutz does more than provide an afternoon project. It gives children new skills. Whether it is embroidery, clay, beading, bracelets, drawing, potholders, quilting, or one of their other titles. They make project books that are based in teaching skills and give you all the components that you need to get started. I was a little worried when Klutz was purchased by Scholastic that some of the ingenuity would go out of the line, but I have been pleased to see more great titles hit the floor every year. Summer takes over and you kind of forget all of those quiet things you used to do when the rain was coming down. I am here to tell you, 100+ degrees is the perfect time to break them out again.

Summer Bounty

I am fortunate enough to have found a local farmer who will trade produce for toys. As I have found the time I have available to garden much less than it used to be this works out perfectly. They just dropped this bag of gorgeous produce at my door. As much as I think it's important to feed a child's mind and sense of adventure, I think it's doubly important to feed their bodies. Without a well fed brain and body a child can't use even the most vast resources well. One of the things I love about owning a specialty toy store is that most of the families who come through are really invested in their children. They feed them well, mind and body. One of the things I don't love is that it gives me an insulated view of the world and it is too easy to forget that this is not the way many children live their lives. There is so much garbage out there, and too often, children get a steady stream of McDonalds and television for sustenance. I guess I just want to put a shout out to all of you parents who are making conscientious decisions to feed your children body and mind. And also a shout out to Andre', Sheila, their three wonderful children and the bounty they drop at my door every week.

Change

When my kids were younger we had splattered so much paint and glue on our dining table, and gouged it with leather craft tools, that I suggested that we should divide it into five and each member of the family paint a section. That is the result in the picture there. We used it like that for years and it now hangs on the outside of the shop facing the deck. The family that created it has long since disappeared evolving into a new family with other priorities than those outlined on the table, and I do miss them, but not as much as I value who they have become. The elements are cracking the paint and the images get a little lighter every year but I am able to look at it regularly. One of these days it will be just a gouged up table top again and I will discard it and make way for new experiences and memories. We all keep our photos, our bits of paper, our writings, but most of the experiences of this life can only be archived for a very short time. Even our memory changes so what we think we have stored away is merely fantasy layered over our faulty perception of so called reality. Not much to cling to. As it should be, I say. We should no more hold to and hoard memories than we should old table tops. We can and should use them only as a catalyst for new experiences. We should break them out to freshen bonds that threaten to fray, to laugh and create new experiences, new memories while doing so. I don't know what this has to do with the toy store. It's just what was on my mind this morning as I sat on the deck, drinking coffee, looking at the table top, and that old rocker that Genna and I painted when I chose to bring my son home from the hospital rather than give him up for adoption (now there is a story worthy of a blog, but again having nothing to do with running a toy store.) Change can happen so fast these days. Especially with a house full of teenagers. For me it is somehow comforting to watch my world changing one flake of paint at a time.

Piece Work A Plenty

Ping, ping, ping. For kids growing up in Carlton in the 1970's and 80's, no sound could make you feel more despondent than the sound of those first few berries hitting an empty picking can. In my memory I see legions of us rubbing bleary eyes riding our bikes down the streets in the first light of dawn, grass still covered with dew. In reality, it was just all the kids I hung out with. We'd hit the fields hard and early because by the time the sun was high in the sky we wanted to have enough money to get into the Carlton pool and buy something at main street market. At night we'd lay out in our yards, or up in our beds with rows and rows of berries haunting our vision. The fields don't hire children anymore and though I can certainly see why (we threw and ate more berries than we weighed by far) it still makes me sad for the generations of American youth who are growing up without the availability of consistent piece work. When kids come into hopscotch with their own money I always ask them what they did to earn it. The answers are varied, birthday money, tooth fairy money, went potty in the toilet, good grades, cavity free dental visit, but the kids who just beam are the kids who have worked hard for those dollars. It means more to them because they did good work and received a wage for it. Our house is here in town, not a farm, but we have lots of fruiting trees and shrubs. First the strawberries come on, then the cherries, then the raspberries, marionberries, blueberries, blackberries, plums, apricots, pears, and finally apples. We pick and process as much of it as we can, and the kids are all required to help. My kids, my sisters kids, they all get paid a dollar for each Nancy's Yogurt container they pick full of blueberries. They also get to enjoy blueberry pancakes, muffins, pies and smoothies through the year, but that's just a fringe benefit. The real benefit goes to us as their parents because they have hard earned pocket money to learn to manage. We have blueberries in the freezer, and the corner store has a steady stream of customers with their own money jingling in their pockets.

Choosing your battles

Zoe is my fourteen year old daughter. She does wild things with her hair. It's been black, pink, purple, silver, blue, green, platinum, and everything in between. She's naturally a blonde, I think. At least she was the last time that I saw her hair it's natural color. I think she was ten. Traditional wisdom would tell you that if you let your child do wild things you are asking for trouble, but I don't feel that way. I want my children to know that each decision I make for them is based on what I feel they have shown me I can expect from them, and from real consideration on the long standing effects that these decisions could have on their lives. Hair grows (or can be stripped out and re-colored for a mere $150) Facial piercings and tattoos are another thing.For the most part Zoe gets positive reinforcement on her color choices, but a lot of people ask me if I really think I should let her do that, or how I feel about it. I feel great! It's who she is. She is vivacious and jubilant, and probably hot pink by nature. Besides, I get to have a real live doll working at my store, and you can't go wrong with that.

Pinkies Up

Tea time has always held a certain magic for my children and me. Perhaps it's the decadence associated with a long break mid afternoon. On breezy spring days it means laying out on a blanket in the shade of a tree with a book, a plate of cookies, some light herbal teas and our conversation. During the winter months, tea gives us a cozy break in the form of red tea for the younger children and black tea for me and the older two. Books, knitting, felting, and other hand crafts coupled with long conversations complete our recipe for reprieve. I'm generally a go go mama for whom "just a minute's" and "be there in a sec's" fall all too readily from the lips. But tea gives me something to center my vast energies around and quiet into. I can sit and hold, rub and pat, talk and laugh,and just BE with my children without looking forward at my agenda. Tea is the agenda. My children are the agenda. Something that can bring a flighty girl like myself so deeply into the moment has just got to be magic.

Pet Cemetery

Any parent who has given in to the plea for a beloved furry companion knows that the shoe box in the photo is more than a mere shoe box. Lined with a scrap of satin (or soft toilet paper in a pinch) stuffed full of Fluffy's favorite toys, maybe a picture of the child or children. Inch per inch, these boxes have more treasured archival material than Tutankhamen's tomb. Oh, and a dead pet. Every family has their methods, and their limits. In my household we bury reptiles and mammals. We'd probably bury a pet bird, but we've never had one. We do not bury potato bugs, ladybugs, or any other insect, though I have never had a three year old beg me to hold services and might cave on that if pressed. Fish do not get a burial. When the kids were younger and fish were precious things to be watched and spoken to daily there were several emergency trips to the pet store to buy replacements, the original unceremoniously flushed. We have gone through six pairs of rats over the years. They really are the best small animal pet, but they succumb to cancer eventually. Yes, all of them, except the last one which was killed by our Jack Russel (who's body will rot in a land fill if my daughter has a say in it...she doesn't) but even that rat had a tumor the size of it's torso. Mercy killing if you ask me. Several reptiles, a few cats, myriad chickens and other farm foul, a hamster... you get the idea. I have stood grave side and said kind words more times than I care to admit. The great thing is that everyone feels better once the earth has been placed over the shoe box. Once honor has been given to the deceased we can quickly move on. Most children learn about mortality in this way. It doesn't take a pronouncement of death for a child to see that their pet is just not present in that small mound of flesh. They see it before you say it, though they still need you to name what it is they have seen. Then, the questions begin. How the questions are answered varies as greatly as the ceremony or lack there of that follows, but death, the greatest of all abstracts, is made very real. That's a good thing. A hard thing, but a good thing.

Children Self-Defined

Rowan will tell you that he's got a craftsman's hands. That he'll probably be an artist someday. He's got my dads hands and as that was one of my favorite things about my father, Rowan knows all about it. He didn't get to know my dad, but my brother has those hands too, so he can compare and see the similarities. Beautiful, long fingered, masculine, capable hands. But I didn't tell Rowan that he was going to be an artist. He came up with that all on his own. My father was a very skilled leather craftsman, and there are lots of crafty and artistic people in my family, but Rowan spends very little time doing what you would call "art". We do lots of projects together, and he has a certain aptitude, but he is not at all compelled to spend time practicing autonomously. Not the kid who walks around with a pad and pen trying to capture the world. I have wondered if I somehow saddled him with this expectation by comparing his hands to my fathers so often. He seems to get satisfaction from it though. Like he's got something of value in his bag of tricks that he's going to whip out on us someday. A quiet knowing. I grew up one of five siblings, and we all had our labels. In looking back I can not discern whether those labels were given to us, or whether we took those labels on to set ourselves apart from the brood. I have realized that they limited us somewhat. We all have artistic skills, but one sister was the artist and the rest of us stayed off her turf. We all had vocal capabilities, but I was the singer, and the others didn't do much to unseat my reign either. We were all intelligent, but another sister was given the academic arena. Anyway, there were five of us and I can't help but wish that I had done some art, or taken my education a little more seriously and that the others had jumped in and gotten musical sooner(though they all came around eventually). As a parent of course, I encourage my children to explore all of their many talents and consider what they can give to themselves and the world through honing their skills. They still seem to want to define themselves as one thing or another, but that's just human nature. As long as they are defining themselves by what they enjoy doing rather than what brand of clothing they wear, I guess they'll be alright.

Cracking the Code.

Where children are concerned there is nothing I enjoy more than sitting back and watching those wheels turn. It starts when they are newborn, you can see them thinking, figuring it all out, processing. When they get older and can talk about what it is that they have sorted through the way they look at things can be joyous and enlightening. We adults get bogged down with all of the "truths" that we have learned along the way and the possibilities available to us become fewer and fewer. For children, it is all possible and listening to their theories can open our minds once again to the vast limitless world we once knew. One of the most prevalent confinements we place on our selves, and our children is that of time. Most people will tell you that time is an absolute. My own belief is that it is a contrivance. Another topic altogether. We can all agree that learning about time is very important to a child's ability to function in a world obsessed with the whens of it all. Time to get up, time to eat, time to nap, time to snack, time for dinner, time for bed. In a digital world and with my laid back attitude on most things in general, I realized with horror that my 9 year old did not know how to tell time in an analog format. I considered all of the ways in which you generally teach the pre-school set this skill. Puzzles, placemats, coloring sheets, crocodile clocks, etc. All of these seemed a little babyish for him, so we just strapped a watch on his arm. Human beings are information gathering machines. It is truly a wonder to see it in action. Whether it is on weather.com, NPR, or reading our daily horoscope, we are compelled to try to figure out what is going on, and how it will affect us. He spent so much time trying to crack that code, looking at his watch, looking at a digital clock, looking at his watch, noting that it was time for dinner, looking at his watch, and so forth. Within a week, he had figured out what would have taken me months to instill in him at pre-school age. For my part, I was able to just sit back and enjoy watching those wheels turn.

The Quest for The Perfect Doll

You would think that it would be easy to make a simple sweet baby doll. You would be wrong. I have been on a quest for the perfect baby doll for years, and I have to say that Corolle is the closest I can find. Corolle dolls are a lot more expensive than dolls the next level down, but they are far superior. It seems to me that shaping the molds sweetly at least would be something that any doll manufacturer could accomplish but none of the cheap dolls can come close to Corolle. So many doll faces are pinched, or flat, and none of them has the translucent quality that the Corolle skin has. I also like the fact that each Corolle doll smells like sweet vanilla, not chemical and plastic. Considering the amount of time they spend snuggled under a child's chin, this is a really nice touch. The doll in the picture is a Berenguer doll, and we carry those too. For some the appeal of a doll that looks like a real baby is great. Not so much for me. They kind of creep me out. I carry them. I sell them well. I like that some are anatomically correct. I understand their appeal to young children, but I don't work late at the store so much when they are in stock.

McMinnville Education Foundation Starry Night

Last night was the annual fund raising event for the McMinnville Education Foundation. It's a wonderful dinner, auction, wine, art and music event put on each year at Stoller Vineyards outside of Dundee. The McMinnville Education Foundation is comprised of individuals who are dedicated to encouraging excellence in our public school system. They accomplish this by funding a series of programs designed to compliment the education of students. Grants, Artists in residency programs, and the opportunity to work with the Linfield chamber Orchestra are among the opportunities funded by the MEF. Events like these are always full of the usual suspects. People that are active and volunteer for everything. The thing that is striking to me about this event in particular is the number of people out to support the McMinnville Schools that don't have children of school age, send their children to private school, or could afford to send their children to private school but choose instead to be active in creating a strong public school system. It is very impressive to me. My children have always been home schooled, though Devon is in high school now, but I see a thriving public school system as the best hope for our future as a society. I contribute financially at fund raisers and always vote in favor of measures that give more funding to schools, but even with that I have felt guilt at not giving the school system the thing they need most. My children. Children that are being raised conscientiously. Children that will contribute to the overall health and integrity of a classroom. Also, I have given myself and my talents and energy exclusively to my children and the children that end up in my house and my shop. I have not been in the school system making the difference that I know I could make. I hear all kinds of theories on why our children are failing to thrive in our school systems. Theories that range from lack of funding to apathetic unrewarded teachers to no child left behind and teaching to the test. All contribute in some part I think, but the most important part of any education is parental responsibility. We can not check our children at the door of the schoolhouse and expect the teachers to raise them. They need to be prepared, well fed, respectful of themselves and others. They need to have habits of hygiene that will not distract others. They need to know how to treat others well before they hit the classroom. Too many of our children are being warehoused in their formative years when they need to be nurtured and prepared. Funding helps. Passionate teachers are invaluable. Robust art, music and literature programs are a must. But none of it has the impact that dedicated parents and well prepared students can.

Hazardous Materials in Miniature!!

I don't have very many toys in my private collection. There are just too many great toys out there, and I have never been a collector. I have a few. The one pictured is my favorite. No, it's not valuable. It's treatful. It is a playmobil haz-mat set. Yup, as in hazardous materials. I love playmobil. They are great quality. They last through generations. They engage children (and adults) of both genders, and they literally have little everything. Best of all, the people smile all of the time. It does not matter to them if they are cleaning up nuclear waste. My favorite that is not in my collection is called the "captive prince" This hairy smiling viking has the prince in cuffs and shackles, and the prince is grinning ear to ear.S&M for the very young. That one is still in the store on the shelf with the other playmobil. You'll have to check it out yourself.

The Stars

When I was a young girl my parents would lay out on a blanket with all of us in the back yard and look at the night sky. My dad would point out the easy constellations and my mother would find a few of the more difficult to recognize constellations, planets, and stars. The real excitement of course were the satellites. We would keep count, and comment on brightness, speed, direction, and duration of visibility until we couldn't make our eyes focus anymore. When I lived in Oklahoma I took the kids on a few road trips back home to Oregon because I just couldn't stay away in the summer. I like to get parks passes and camp my way across the country because it is cheap and an adventure. Particularly with three children ranging in age between three and nine. On this one trip we went down through Colorado, went through the Garden of The Gods(bought them all Kazoos at the gift shop. What WAS I thinking?!) Hit many road side attractions, bug museums and the like, camped at Mesa Verde, and got to the Grand Canyon the next day. I'd lived in Oregon and in Oklahoma and nothing in either of those states had prepared me for the clarity of star gazing that lack of humidity could provide. It was a divine experience. In the gift shop I found a book on constellations by H.A. Rey called simply "The Stars" and my children and I lived with it for the rest of our trip and still pull it out today. "This book is meant for people who want to know just enough about the stars to be able to go out at night and find the major constellations, for the mere pleasure of it." Is the opening passage. And that's what it is. That is all that it is. Beautifully simple and engaging.

Taking Responsibility and Ownership.

One of the main reasons I wanted to buy hopscotch was for my children. To give them a sense of placement in our community. To give them real work to do, a sense of accomplishment and accountability. When I was growing up my parents always owned a business and it made me feel that people knew who I was and what I was supposed to be doing. A little claustrophobic perhaps but I think it ultimately made me a more accountable person. Accountability is something that I stress with my children. I don't teach it as a moral obligation, but as a tool that enables them to take control of any situation. Any bit of an encounter that they can own, they have the ability to change. As long as they are placing blame elsewhere, they are the victim, helpless to do anything to fix the problems, or to ensure that they do not keep occurring. Some people get caught in the victim cycle, but it is not what children want to be. If you can lay it out there for them time and time again that taking responsibility means taking control the responsibility becomes an honor instead of an obligation.

Harry Potter Movie Vs. Book

My family went to see the latest Harry Potter movie this evening. The effects were magnificent, the acting was good, the characters had been developed over the previous movies, and the newly introduced characters were fully fleshed out and substantial. On our way home though, along with talk of how good the movie was, there was also a discussion about how it failed to engage us emotionally the way the book did. This left me wondering exactly what is it that makes movies so inferior to books? They have such an advantage in their ability to appeal to our senses, and yet, don't compare to what we can derive from reading a book. In talking to children, both my own and others I've found that what they love about the books varies greatly. That is perhaps the most important difference between books and movies. There is so much MORE to choose from. Subplots, characters to love, subtleties that are so much better illustrated in the drawn out format of a book. We have time to find out what is important to us instead of having what is important to the director spoon fed to us. Relevance. It is a rare thing for me to read a book and not find relevance to my life and my experience, and lessons that will help shape me as an individual. It is much more difficult for movies to have that kind of impact. It happens. It's just not as consistent. Perhaps it's as simple as the fact that you steep in the essence of a book for a week or two, and a film is only with you for a couple of hours. Whatever the reason, I am happy to have both, and will continue to insist that my children read the book before they see the movie. If they don't have the opportunity to imagine the world as they see it described on the page before they see the film, the directors world will forever be the only one they can see.

Proper Tools

Have you ever worked in a kitchen that was outfitted with everything you needed? Or built something in a shop with all of the chisels, saws, sanders, etc. in good working order? Then you know the benefit of having the proper tools at hand. I am very particular about the art supplies and craft items I will carry in the store because I feel very strongly about providing children with the best tools. Especially children. Sometimes we think we can get by with giving our kids mediocre supplies because they are just starting, or wasteful, or whatever, when really at that stage we should be giving them the best tools we can to encourage them, to make it as easy as possible to succeed. In this picture, my children are doing art work on our front porch with chalk pastels. The colors are so vibrant and the pigments so dense that they can draw anything they want in detail. We've done the porch twice now, and then we spray it with a sealant and it stays for a few years. We carry the Faber Castell blue line of art supplies because I like the quality of the supplies. The kids can create real pieces of art without the art supplies getting in the way. Wherever you pick up your art supplies, make sure they are good enough quality to help your children succeed. You wouldn't put your track star in flip flops, don't supply your young artists with Rose Art.

Benefit and Risk Assessment for the Very Young

A very common question asked of me at hopscotch is "Do you think this would be safe for a (baby, 8 year old, 3 year old, whatever)?" To which my very uncommon reply is "Well, I can't tell you if it would be safe for yours, but I probably would have given it to mine. I also have a trampoline in my back yard and my twelve year old has access to most tools in the shop, so my safety standards might not be the same as yours."
We bought our trampoline used out of the thrifties (before Craigs List) when my son Devon was four. He is now 18. Dozens of children have spent countless hours jumping, sleeping, reading, sparring, and giggling on that trampoline. Yes, there have been injuries, stitches, bumps, and near concussions, but the experiences these kids have had outweigh the risks they have undertaken. I meet so many parents these days who are terrified of exposing their children to any risk at all, and I wonder if we are not stunting an entire generation? I allow my children a great deal of freedom to roam the neighborhood, to build things from scrap in the yard, to paint and draw on the walls in their bedrooms, to take risks, ride skateboards, take their bikes off of jumps they built. They walk to the corner store and conduct transactions, they go down town and buy ice cream and visit their favorite shops. This is not because I am negligent, or lazy as I can tell you it takes more effort to talk them through these risks, and to clean up the wounds when things go awry than it does to plop them in front of a nice safe television. River is the name of the boy standing in the top of the arborvitae hedge. He is my nephew. He is standing on a platform that the kids built into the hedge about five years ago without my knowledge. They got the scrap, they got the tools, and they built this perch for spying on the world from the hedge. The list of crazy things they have done without my permission goes on and on. My children take risks every day, and I encourage them to do so. I joke that if they are dumb enough to do XYZ I don't want them in the gene pool anyway, but really I feel that I am giving them important tools for creating a vital active life. Most of us get more fearful with age. Our children need to learn what they can accomplish before the limitations even occur to them.

Every community worth its weight in salt has a home town festival. Here in McMinnville, ours is duhn duhn duhn.... (((((Turkey....Rama))))) That's announcer voice amplification on the sides there. How treats is that? Could it get any better in a bad kind of way? Or worse in a good kind of way? To make a very long story very short, this used to be turkey country, now the only turkeys left are the humans. But, we still have Turkey Rama. We have a biggest Turkey contest, in which I did once compete. I won't tell you what I did for my talent routine because every turkey contest is aired on public access for the whole next year and You Tube is a vicious vicious machine. I did not win the biggest turkey prize, but we raised a ton of money for Hospice. What else do we have? We have a huge turkey barbecue, and of course a street fair with lots and lots of sidewalk sales in which hopscotch does participate. We were on the main drag of the festival until last year when we moved a few blocks away, so this year I had a tent sale in front of the store. Much better. Great way to get rid of stuff I just don't love anymore. We have one more day of that left, and I can't tell you that I'm not looking forward to the weekend being over. It's a lot of work, but it's a great time to see all kinds of people that you only see once or twice a year, hang out on the street and watch the whole community go by, and eat the annual elephant ear from the soroptomists booth. Well, I'm due to volunteer helping kids in and out of the bouncy castle now, so I better get back down there.

Firsts and Lasts.

Adeline is the youngest member of my extended family so she is of course in charge of everything. She has recently learned to walk with the help of her Wheely Bug. Not exactly what it was intended for but she gets such a great deal of pleasure from chasing us around and running it into our ankles that it motivated her to progress. In stark contrast to Adeline's firsts which just keep coming I have also been spending time with a friend of mine who is experiencing some of his lasts. His kidneys have given him trouble, and he's had a couple of falls that have rather hastened the aging process. He used to walk all over town for the joy of it. Now he needs help making it across the room. I visited him the other night and found myself wondering at many things that seem so messed up about this life process. I also found myself appreciating many things about it. What I really got hung up on though was the notion that when he took his last walk around our neighborhood he didn't know that it would be his last. Something he cherished so much, and he did not know to pay attention and take his time and soak it in.
As a mother there are many moments like that. Lasts that we don't know will be the last. The last time that your child looks at you with complete adoration. The last time they let you see them naked. The last time they insist you tuck them in. The last time they crawl into your lap with a book. The last time they throw a tantrum. And though I feel a certain sadness at this fading away of things, I can not imagine the unbearable weight of sorrow that I would have felt in those moments had I known they were the last. There have to be lasts of course just as there will always be firsts. The hardest thing to remember is to soak them all in as if they just might be... To pay attention and be present. To shriek and run from a little ankle biting Wheely Bug and watch those firsts intently because they often leave a last in their wake.

SummertimeFun!

I went camping at the beach with my family over the holiday. The weekend included three of my four siblings, friends, and all of our children, and I have not played so hard in a long time. We flew kites, dug in the sand with shovels and pails, made sand castles, played football, and threw a boomerang around. Every time a new toy came out a new activity ensued. We brought cards and board games to play at night, but by the time the sun went down we were too tired and hung out singing and talking by the camp fire instead. My nephew turned seven so we had his birthday celebration at the beach, and he received his first kite. He was so thrilled and excited to learn to fly it. Of course, the Oregon coast is notoriously good for making a first time success out of any kite flying venture. (Our pink flamingo that flew as well as a penguin being the exception to that rule.) His kite was a basic delta flyer and he got it up really high right away. I guess the thing that struck me as I played with all of these kids and their toys was how rich the toys made the experience. It sounds a little strange coming from a toy store owner, but you kind of forget how important the toys really are once they are in the hands of a child. As you talk to a customer about the virtues of open ended play, you forget the reality of it. This weekend I crawled under a parachute with a bunch of community children at a party, had a water fight, flew balsa wood airplanes, and set off rocket balloons. Then I went to the coast and played with my family. The vitality in these kids as they actively played was so contagious and wonderful. It's a great thing when a child takes you by the hand and shows you that you never outgrow play. It just takes some reminding, flexibility, and a little bit of time.

Functional Flyer!

What do you do with returned merch? Turn it into a piece of functional art of course! This Radio Flyer wagon was one of the first things I sold, and (dubious beginning) it had no guts. Just the wagon pan. I never quite got around to sending it back to the company though, and when hopscotch moved over into a florists shop there were a gazillion sinks. Now, one of them is a Radio Flyer wagon sink. I kept the sink, cut a hole in the wagon bed, bought a pre-fab cabinet, and mounted lawn mower tires for cabinet handles. We use it when we have parties, or just when kids come in all grubby. With the addition of a candy department it's been very nice to have. Yesterday I was able to use it to wash frog rocks!

Frog in a Box at hopscotch!

I know, we aren't a pet store, but all of my toy store friends told me that kids are just crazy for these frogs, and what the kids are crazy for is exactly what I want to have. They are, first of all, complete eco-systems with a layer of "living gravel" on the bottom, a shoot of bamboo, a frog pooh eating snail, and two darling little frogs. We just call them frogs in a box. The frogs are both male so there won't be a bunch of little tadpoles to bring up. There are two frogs in each box because they like company. And they are sooo cute! They are African Dwarf Frogs. They have little black toe nails. They are supposed to live for about five years, and you only have to feed them twice a week, and change their water once every two years. Coming from a house with two rats, two dogs, two cats, and a full on aquarium that needs wayyyy more maintenance than that it seems to me the perfect gift for that child who is not allowed to have pets. They are a lot more personable than Sea Monkeys, the life span is longer, and the maintenance is about the same. I was always so disappointed that the Sea Monkey with the crown and scepter never did appear in my tank. Talk about your false advertising. Sea Monkey Family indeed!