Lego maniacs

If our trip was about basketball for Matthew, it was about Legos for Cameron.  Before we left, Cameron found a Legoland Chicago coupon in a magazine.  He came running to me.  "Mommy!  A coupon for a free child's admission to Legoland!  Can we go?"

"Oh, Cameron, I'm sorry!" I said, "We're not going . . . " And then I had a moment of clarity.  Why couldn't we?  So, like the awesome mom that I am, I said, "You know what?  Let's do it!  We're going to Legoland!"

So we did.  And, as expected, it was Legotastic.

Matthew, as kindly as possible, spurned the advances of a Legoland jungle guide.

We encountered some fierce creatures but always managed to get away unscathed.

(Notice that Legoland jungle guide.  After Matthew's rejection, she started after my husband!)

Except for Matthew, who was permanently traumatized and brought to tears by this lion, who roars when you put your head in his mouth.  Not cool, Lego Lion.

I missed a great photo op, when Matthew waved his hand high in the air and was selected to push the button during the Lego factory tour.  I was oblivious, deleting bad photos from the camera, until after the button was pushed and the woman next to me said, "Did you get it?"  And I was like, "Uh, get what?"

Oh well. You win some, you lose some.  As the boys discovered on the Lego race track.

We finished up the adventure posing with some of our favorite characters while Cameron said, "Aren't you glad I thought of this?"

And I am.  It was a scream!

Cameron Writes

For his recent graduation from kindergarten, Cameron was given a Dr. Seuss book called "A Book About Me."  The first day of summer vacation, he woke up anxious to work on it.  For hours, he counted his freckles, he reflected upon his favorite foods, he considered his future.  Much of the contents of the completed book were no surprise to me -- I know the kid fairly well, it turns out.  But on a few pages, his answers were unexpected.  Like this one.

He's fairly literal, it appears.

Some of his answers were so, so "Cameron, age 6" that I could hardly stand it.  I think this page is my favorite.  It reads "When I Grow Up, I Want to Be Legomaker."  I also love that, in the list of possible career choices, Cameron crosses one out.  It said "Indian," and right above it is the ever-popular career choice of "cowboy."  Cameron explained his editing to me quite heatedly.  "Can you believe they put 'Indian' here?  Indian?  First of all, they prefer to be called Native Americans.  And second of all, uhhh, it's not like you can grow up and be like, 'Oh, I want to be a Native American.' They're real people!"  I love that kid so much. 

He's so awesome. 

For my birthday, I found this on my pillow.

It reads Y YOW YON YOU ARE THE BEtSt MOM YOU CAN HAV tIhS

His spelling is usually a bit better, but he did this in his bunk bed after we thought he was asleep.  And that's an honest to goodness Susan B. Anthony folks.  No quarters on MY birthday!  Cameron keeps asking me what I'm going to spend it on, flummoxed by my answer that I am going to keep it forever.

Getting Through the Week

On Tuesday, I sent Cameron to school with a bit of a cough and cold. Nothing alarming -- it had already made it's rounds through the rest of us.  Tuesday night, the cough and cold turned to scary wheezing and by Wednesday morning, Cameron was really, really sick.  A frantic trip to the pediatrician resulted in a diagnosis of walking pneumonia.

So, Wednesday was already a bad day but on top of that I had one of the worst migraines I've ever had.  And Matthew?  Matthew was totally healthy and full of energy.  So Cameron and I lay listless on our respective couches while Matthew jumped and climbed and yelled and whined and I whimpered, "Please.  No talking."  It was baaaaaad, y'all.

A good night's sleep and antibiotics for Cameron made a world of difference and Thursday was a much better day.  Cameron was still tired, but otherwise feeling pretty good and I was in that drained but oh so grateful to be painfree state that I get in after a migraine.  You know, where you find it amazing that you can do things like sit up or enter a room with a light on without wanting to die? 

We declared it a pajama day and spent our time playing, watching a movie and staging Lego races.  Here's an action sequence of Matthew's Lego car blasting through a wall of plastic cups.  Awesome.

Cameron also made me a very sweet Lego creation that said "LOVE."  In his other hand, he is holding what I thought was a Lego space alien but turns out to be a Lego model of . . . me. 

For reasons unbeknownst to me but oddly appropriate, Matthew spent much of the day running around yelling, "Bezerk!  Bezerk!  Bezerk!"  He also repeatedly shouted, "Shani Davis?  WHAT?!?!"  as if we were actively watching the Olympics.

Cameron requested that I renew his Lego Brickmaster membership.  I reminded him that last year he earned his membership by completing numerous household tasks and that I would be happy to make a new list for him to tackle.  "Did you know that my friend has been a Brickmaster since he was four?" asked Cameron.

"Really?" I responded.

"Yes.  And guess what HE has to do to get his Brickmaster membership each year?"

"What?"

"He has to say, 'Hey mom?  Can I be a Brickmaster again?'"  Cameron raised his eyebrows.

"Wow," I answered, "he's a lucky kid.  I'll get that list ready for you to start on!"  I'm so mean, people.

Poor Darth Vader

And I thought a dog would be too much work . . .

It's All in the Helmet

Recently, I blogged about Cameron's love of Legos, his hopes of winning a Lego building contest and how he reconsidered his "need" for Legos once he learned about the devastation in Haiti.  Although Cameron hasn't won that dreamed of Lego gift card to give to Haiti, he has stepped up.  He donated a small fortune (to him) to relief efforts and has shown continuing concern for what's happening in Haiti.  We're proud of him.  My aunt was proud of him, too, and sent Lego a link to my blog post.  And today, Lego made Cameron's day.  (Even more than Lego usually makes Cameron's day!)

Today, Cameron got a package in the mail from Lego.  Inside was a note thanking him for being a kind person who cares about others, a Lego poster and a Lego set.  Cameron nearly collapsed with excitement.  "It's a set with CLONE TROOPERS!!!" he shrieked. 

I was confused.  It was a set that Cameron doesn't have -- I knew that much -- but I couldn't figure out why he was excited about the clone troopers.  "Cameron, you have TONS of clone troopers!" I said.

Cameron looked at me with pity.  "Mommy.  I have tons of STORM troopers.  These are CLONE troopers, not STORM troopers.  See?  They have this ridge on their helmet.  The storm troopers don't."

I stand corrected.

Thanks to Lego and thanks to Aunt Beth.  Cameron certainly didn't NEED any reward but it meant the world to him to be acknowledged by his favorite company.

When They Aren't Fighting (Much)

Cameron is a really great big brother.  As Matthew tells him often, "You da best."  Now, don't get me wrong, Cameron and Matthew spend the majority of their time together fighting.  Matthew touched Cameron's Legos, or Cameron wants to watch Fetch with Ruff Ruffman while Matthew would strongly prefer Super Why, or Cameron thinks Matthew should play the role of Anakin Skywalker but Matthew doesn't get it and keeps trying to be Darth Vader even though Cameron has clearly established that the role playing is set in the Clone War years, before Anakin even became Darth Vader and if Matthew wants to be Darth Vader he should be perfectly happy to be Anakin since Anakin really is Darth Vader just not yet.  You know.

But when these two get along, it's magic.

Cameron recently realized that he is now big enough to give Matthew piggy back rides, which both boys find endlessly entertaining.  (Endlessly meaning "for about two minutes until someone scratches someone else.")  Matthew was anxious to return the favor and told Cameron he would give him a piggy back ride.  Cameron gamely climbed up on the couch, put his arms around Matthew's shoulders and then walked behind Matthew, praising him for giving such good piggy back rides.

And yesterday, in a display of cooperation the likes of which I have never seen, Matthew played trains while Cameron used Legos to build a train tunnel.  (Which Matthew subsequently destroyed, prompting Cameron to momentarily lose his mind, but that's besides the point.)

The train/Lego play continued this morning, with a new agreement that the story line would be that a train tunnel is built but is structurally unsound, leading to collapse and subsequent rebuilding efforts.  Midway through the scene, Matthew began to shriek with laughter.  "Look!  Look Mama!  I made dis so funny!"

When I came, he showed me two of his Lego people perched on top of the helicopter.  He gave the propellor a spin, the Lego people rotating with the blade.  This, apparently, was hysterically funny.  (I had mistakenly thought it was just slightly amusing.) "It SO funny!" he reiterated.  He pointed to the people with a huge smile, "It Matthew and mama!"  This is NOT good news, because I am extremely prone to motion sickness.

What's Really Important

Cameron will spend hours looking at Lego catalogs, the Lego Club magazine and the Lego Brickmaster magazine.  He will look at them until he has memorized the name and price of each Lego set.  He will look at them until he can recite the text of the Lego comic strip.  He will look at those catalogs and magazines until the pages are falling out.

Last night, he was again perusing a Lego Club magazine when he noticed that there was a contest to build something that the Lego firefighters could use to fight fires.  Doubtless, he had read of this contest before, but this time he noticed that 5 lucky winners would receive a $100 Lego gift card.  AND the deadline had not yet passed!

Feverishly, he began to plan and build, all the while chattering excitedly over what he would do with his prize winnings.  "Cameron," I pointed out, "I think a lot of kids enter the contest.  So, even if you build a reeeaaallllyyyy great Anti-Arson Water Cannon 204.0, you might not win."

He paused.  "You're right.  Probably like eighteen kids enter!  And only five win!  But, think about it!  What's really important?"  And here he raised an eyebrow, preparing to impress me.  "Winning the contest?  Or having a really great time building an awesome Lego model?  Having a really great time, OF COURSE!"  He smiled charmingly.

Despite this assertion, he spent the evening brushing up on his math skills by calculating which Lego sets he could buy with $100.  "Or what if mine is SO good, that they give me ALL FIVE of the prizes.  And THEN I'd have $500!  And I could buy the Death Star for $399.99!  And I'd STILL have money left to buy MORE Legos with!"

After bedtime, he came out of his room, his eyes bright with excitement, to point out that $100 could buy him all of the new Lego Bionicles with the gold pieces that you can use to build one big gold Lego Bionicle.

Then, this morning, I heard about the earthquake in Haiti.  As I sat down to eat breakfast with the kids, Cameron said, "What's wrong, Mommy?"

"Well," I told him, "I just heard some really sad news.  In a county called Haiti, there was a big earthquake.  And Haiti is a country where a lot of people are very poor, and they don't have strong houses like we do and they don't have good hospitals and they don't have enough food or water.  And now, because of the earthquake, a lot of people got hurt, and a lot of people died, and a lot of people don't have any where to live."

Cameron looked very serious for a moment.  "That's really sad," he said.  He took a few spoonfuls of his cereal and then looked up.  "Hey Mommy?  Maybe if I do win that Lego contest, maybe instead of buying something for myself, maybe I could give the gift card to Haiti instead."

He's a pretty great kid.

Throwing a Yellow Card on the Wii

So, the Wii is super fun, but there is so much else to do on the weekend!  Not to mention that it sometimes wears on me, the constant whining and complaining and Wii arguments.  "Mooommm, it's not fair!  Miyori parried and I was about to retaliate with a riposte when Matthew grabbed my Wiimote!" 

And I'm all, "Boys!  If you can not fence nicely, we won't even play the Wii on weekends!"

Oh, the wailing and gnashing of teeth.

So, sometimes, I make them do other things which, they often discover, are actually super fun, too.

See Jane, see? A Lego Agent 2.0!

Cameron didn't start reading at a particularly early age, but once he had it figured out, he REALLY had it figured out.  He basically went from sounding out "cat" to reading chapter books in one night.  There are a lot of really fantastic things about having a reader.  But one of the best parts is watching Cameron read to Matthew.

Today, as I was gathering up scarves and mittens and snowpants and hats and boots to go outside, Cameron and Matthew sat together.  Cameron was teaching Matthew to "read" the Lego magazine.  "Okay, Matthew," he instructed.  "Say 'Lego Agents 2.0."

"Wego Agents Two Poinoh!" repeated Matthew.

"Okay, now say, 'Agent Chase.'"

"Age in chase."

"Doctor Disaster."

"Awk awk dis AAAASTER!"

"No, that's not it Matthew.  It's DOCTOR Disaster.  Now try it again."

"Doc-toe Disaster."

"Good job!  Now, let's try the Lego Power Miners Page."

With Cameron's help, I wouldn't be surprised if Matthew is an early reader.  His choice of reading materials, however, may be a bit eclectic.

You're welcome, Mo Willems.

If my family's Christmas spending is any indication, Mo Willems is a very wealthy man.  Not only did Matthew get his very own Knuffle Bunny, we also pretty much doubled our Mo Willems' book collection.  My new favorite is "Naked Mole Rat Gets Dressed," while Matthew is partial to "Leonardo the Terrible Monster."

And I'm pretty sure that LEGO was already doing okay financially, but we paid our dues there as well.

And a Pony

Matthew's response to Santa in past years has ranged from complete indifference

 to sheer terror. 

This year, Matthew marched right up to Santa.  "And what do you want for Christmas, little boy?"

"I wanna Knuffle Bunny and a Lego set," Matthew answered with confidence.

"And how about you?" Santa asked Cameron. 

In line, Cameron had been overcome with nervousness.  "Help me remember what to say, Mommy," he had whispered to me, as he rehearsed.  "A Lego set.  The Empire Strikes Back movie.  A robot starter kit.  OK.  A Lego set.  The Empire Strikes Back.  Robot starter kit."  Now, faced with Santa himself, Cameron took a deep breath and went for it.  "I would like TWO Lego sets.  And The Empire Strikes Back.  And a robot kit."

Apparently Cameron is hoping that the big guy decides to break the "three presents from Santa" rule.

The Obvious Solution

"Me and Colin are going to make a time machine," Cameron announced.

"Really?"  I replied.  "What time do you want to go to first?"

"2007," he answered promptly.

2007? I thought, mystified.  "Why 2007?"

"Well, remember that old Lego magazine that Grandpa gave me?"

"Yes."

"It was in 2007.  And it said that in 2007 they were putting solid gold C3PO Lego minifigures in Lego boxes!  So we're going to go back to 2007 and try to find one of them.  Oh! And can you come with us?  Because I think it might be a good idea to have a grown-up along."

I suppose I could tell the kid about EBay, but why ruin his fun?

Truth in Advertising

Cameron spends hour upon hour reviewing the Lego catalog.  He can easily tell you the names of the different models, which mini-figures they come with and which new models are coming in 2010.  He does, however, seem oblivious to price.  Frequently I have had to tell him, "No, Cameron, I don't think you'll be getting the Power Miners Rock Crushing Battle Droid Driller of Death.  Why?  Because it cost $199.99."

The other day a new Lego catalog arrived in the mail.  On the cover it said, "Purchases over $100 SHIP FREE!"  "Look at this!!!" Cameron gasped.

"Oh, right.  Free shipping," I answered.

Cameron began frantically flipping through the catalog.  "Okay.  I'm going to get this.  And this.  And this.  Can we order it now?"

"What?"

"It says 'Offer ends December 14,' so we better order it all now!" said Cameron.  "Oooh, and I'm going to get this . . . "

"Um, Cameron?  We're not getting any of those."

"WHAATTT?  Why not?  They're FREE!" he responded.  "And they even ship them to you!"

He was deeply disappointed when I explained that "ships free" meant that ONLY the shipping was free.

Thankful for Legos

Last week, Cameron brought home a book he had made at school.  On each page was a sentence that began "I am thankful for," and space to fill in your answer as well as to draw a picture.  Cameron's answer was "Legos," unless the sentence absolutely prohibited the use of the word.  For example, the sentence "I am thankful for the ____ I eat," was begrudgingly completed with the word "food."  However, "I am thankful for the ____ I wear," was joyfully completed with the word "Lego" and a self-portrait of Cameron wearing his Halloween costume.

So, when we learned that the Henry Ford Museum in Detroit was hosting a Lego Castle Exhibit, it was quickly put on our schedule. 

Grandma Linda accompanied us and snapped photos as the boys launched a Lego catapault at a Lego wall, jousted, admired Lego creations and pretended to be a stern Lego dungeon guard. 

By far Cameron's favorite activity, however, was . . . building with Legos.  Sort of like he does at home all the time.

The exhibit also had a building area for toddlers which Matthew appreciated until the fun was too much for him and he opted to nap on David's shoulder.

This was fortuitous because it was more difficult for David to hit on the Lego ladies with a sleeping toddler in tow.  David just can't seem to resist those big, dark eyes, the strong, sqaure jaw and the skin like a ripe banana.  Oh baby!

After we had thoroughly and completely explored the Lego display, we decided to check out the rest of the museum.  The place is huge and we couldn't even come close to looking at everything, but there were a few must see exhibits. The exhibit about the civil rights movement was fascinating and even included the actual bus in which Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat. 

Matthew could not be roused for a family photo, but did wake up while we sat in the bus and listened as Rosa Parks' voice told her story.  We even snapped a photo in the historic seat, although Matthew did not seem to grasp the significance.  Two year olds, what are you gonna do?

Lastly, I'm including this photo of me as a housewife thrilled by the possibility of a stylish and affordable Dymaxion home.  Cameron thought this was hilarious and is quite insistent that all of you would want to see it, too!

At the end of the day, I am pretty sure that Cameron would agree we are thankful for Grandma Linda.  And Legos.

Hip to be square

When I was a kid, my mom always made my Halloween costumes.  The traditional newspaper-stuffed pumpkin, the more eclectic Minnie Pearl, the regionally-inspired Zilwaukee bridge builder.  I think most kids wore homemade costumes in those days.  These days, every other kid is wearing the same store-bought costume and it just doesn't feel the same to me.  So from Cameron's first Halloween on, I've been making the kids' costumes.

Last year, under intense pressure from Cameron, I let him wear a store bought costume for the first time.  This year, I was pleased when he decided that he'd go back to a homemade one.    It was pretty easy to choose what he wanted to be.  What does Cameron love more than almost anything?  Legos.  And who does Matthew want to be like more than anyone?  Cameron.  And thus, I ended up making two Lego costumes.

To be honest, I was pretty disappointed in how they came out.  The spray paint didn't really cover up the "Whole Soy Yogurt" and "Zappos" labels.  But that's the beauty of trick or treating at twilight -- as soon as the sun began to set, you couldn't see those labels at all!

Matthew stayed home with David, as he's still fighting a fever that won't quit.  Cameron and I hit the streets with friends.  Before he even got to the first house, though, Cameron tripped.  Turns out it is difficult to see obstacles in your path when you have a box velcroed to you.  He fell forward, landing on his Lego and displacing several yogurt containers.  The good news was that the Lego cushioned his fall and he was uninjured.  "My Lego!" he cried.  "What are we going to do?"

Who does this kid think he's trick or treating with?  An amateur? I opened my bag, pulled out a roll of packing tape and had him patched up in no time!

Cameron got quite a bit of attention for his unique costume and on the way home he gave a satisfied sigh.  "Well," he said, "I think my costume was a big success!"