September 3 – “Tiddly winks”

For the first time on this particular trip, yesterday actually felt just a little bit … vacation-y.  I don’t know for sure why.  It certainly wasn’t the fall I took – up the single stair in the bedroom we are staying in. I just forgot it was there.  And the room was dark.  And I was sleepy.  Didn’t hurt myself at least.  Well, I was a little sore later in the day, but no blood, no concussions.  And it wasn’t about the phone calls I took doing church business.  A few were about the retreat center doors fixed.  Another was about showing someone the retreat center itself for a possible future booking.  Nor could it have been the emails I was sending and receiving, trying to determine if my meeting for this morning had been canceled or not (It was postponed).

I guess maybe it was just the fact that we spent the day playing.  The Donut Man showed up with breakfast, so that was a great start.  Blue Ninjas and pink sprinkles and donut holes and chocolate iced and regular glazed.  What a choice.  I spent some time rolling on the floor horsing around with Zak and Caleb.  Chris and I both had turns where Luke seemed to want to be in our arms.  His latest discovery is the classic song, “Wheels on the Bus.”  He has learned to spin his arms around and around with the wheels.  Always fun when a little one makes a new discovery like that. 

In the afternoon we took a trip to the Waco Children’s Museum.  They had a special dinosaur exhibit that the boys wanted to show us.  Three of those animatronic full-sized dinosaurs were supposed to be the big attraction, I think.  Luke liked them well enough, I suppose.  He seemed to think they were really big puppy dogs.  But organizers soon discovered that the real draw for kids was the big room full of video game consoles.  The kids could “become” a dinosaur, using the buttons to charge aggressors, greet friends, challenge upstarts, run from the t-rex, eat ferns, drink water, and even poop.  That’s right.  One of the options that popped up on the screen after a meal was “poop.”  Gotta make those video games realistic. 

Caleb’s favorite room seemed to be the one set up as a little community.  It had riding toys, of which he appropriated one and became the town’s police officer.  I got put in jail once – at the town’s recycling center.  My punishment was officially pronounced: “You must stay in there and eat recycled food.”  Needless to say, I escaped. 

Zak seemed to prefer what they called the Water Room.  I think it might be better called the Dam Room.  Part of it was for blowing gigantic bubbles.  That wasn’t the appeal to the kiddos, though.  They were all drawn to the pit of flowing water.  It was set up so they could dam up the water at certain places and see the changes in how the water flowed as a result.  There were rubber ducky races and numerous attempts at creative dam making.  Someone had apparently thrown some soap into the mix as well, because there were some serious suds at one end of the tank.  Probably the funniest scenario, though, came when Zak discovered a tiny little air hole.  He leaned over the edge just enough to get his face lined up with the shoots of air blasting through the water.  Then when he turned to look at us, his face was a mass of white bubbles.  Quite the picture.

Back at the house we wound down by setting up battlefield scenarios between the hundreds of toy dinosaurs the boys have.  And finally I taught them that brand new, incredibly old game called Tiddly Winks.  I bought a set at Buccees on our way up here.  Even Caleb thought it was great fun, although we had a terrible time trying to keep track of all the winks that were flying around the room.  Not sure who won the game, since none of us knew or particularly cared what the rules were.  Sure is fun, though, to tiddle those winks all over the table and floor … and each other.  Maybe this game will make a comeback.

Psalms 116:7 says, “Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the Lord has been good to you.”

Father, thank you for your rest in the midst of life’s chaos.  Thank you for letting me see it once again through the eyes of a child.  Amen.