Vids for Kids

As is the case every year, the Skylanders franchise has released another edition, just in time for the holidays. This year it's the Imaginators edition.

I had thought that the boys had grown weary of the Skylanders concept, but this time it's back with some pop. For the first time, the graphics are crisp and sharp (and we are on a lowly Wii U). The irreverent humour is back in spades and this time, thankfully, there is much less Flynn.

The new toys are cool, but pricey as always at launch. Our favourite so far is the just-in-time for the holidays Jingle Bell Chompy Mage.

The twist this time around is that you can design your own Skylanders. As you progress through the game, you collect bits - arms, legs, tails, heads, catchphrases etc. You then stick assemble them how you like and voila, your own Skylander in the game.

There's also a nice tie-in with the Netflix Original series Skyladers Academy. The Norm Macdonald-voiced Glumshanks is a personal fave.

Full Disclosure: Activision provided a promotional copy, all opinions are my own.

Stick a Pin In It

It's a regular Sunday night. We're all gathered at Grandma's house, a whole gang for a good Sunday dinner. The nephews are pretty tired out from the weekend of skiing. Our boys have done birthday parties, outings and had decent naps.

After the meal, boys peel off in small groups or solo, gathered around a multitude of glowing devices. The Habs for the eldest, Minecraft for the middle bunch, even #CantStopWontStop has settled down in front of the Paw Patrol.

The grown-ups are well fed, lounging about the family room in various states of repose. With glasses of wine in hand, we are content. It's a moment frozen in time. The constant motion has slowed to a point where bodies in motion are in fact decipherable, no longer a constant blur. Did I mention there are five boys under 10?

There is actually time for conversation.

I'm leaning against the counter, in the middle of telling some inconsequential (hopefully humorous) story, when a searing pain stabbing through my foot stops me dead. The cry from my mouth has stopped everyone in their tracks.

Slowly I turn my gaze downwards, down towards the offending appendage. Rather than a view of my foot all I can see is a Cheshire Cat grin completed by bright twinkling eyes. I still can't comprehend what is happening and why foot is continuing to course with fiery pain. Quickly, he scuttles away. That's when I see it.

The push-pin from the corkboard is lodged in the joint between my third toe and my foot.

With all the composure I can muster, I bend and remove the pointy object. I calmly take the little guy by his hand and exit the room. It's time to be serious dad. Not angry dad or bewildered dad, but there are consequences dad. Behind me, I can hear the room erupt in guffaws, chortles and downright belly laughs. Most of me wants to join them, but I've got to be responsible dad. calm dad. dad who makes this a teaching moment. It's on the inside I'm dad who can't believe his own offspring just stuck him with the pre-school equivalent of a shiv.

Daily Shenanigans

How are we supposed to keep them safe?

Breakthrough!

Finally, the Big Mac agrees to wear mitts. Parenting win - now his fingers won't fall off.

Happy Thanksgiving

Find your happy place and take a moment.

A week full of sh#t!

This week Max decided to toilet train in full #maxlocomotive fashion. We also had our entire sewer replaced.  It was a crappy start but by the end of the week, things are looking brighter!

The theme must have resonated with the big guy because tonight he said, and I quote "Mommy, did you know butt holes grow bigger because that's the only way the giant slob of poo can come out?"

Gotta love kids and their free flowing thoughts and commentary. 

Get It In Ya!

This summer I had had enough.

You know your typical day as a parent. You start it tired. Your initial fatigue is somewhat proportional to midnight munchkin visits. I tend to lose count around four or five.

Then you have to actually get out of the house - battles over breakfast; confrontations over clothing; tortuous tooth brushing. Just getting them to daycare or school is an epic saga whose protagonists sap your strength and weaken your will more than the one ring to rule them all, without that useful invisibility bonus. And if you think Tolkien went a little long, my utterances would fill volumes, although there are only so many ways to say "Put your shoes on!"

The commute comes next. Daily I mourn the career that could have been-  me, an F1 champion. Mirabeau has nothing on the crucible of Toronto traffic, backseat shenanigans, multiple drop offs and the need to get to work sometime before noon. I need a whole pit crew just to clean out the backseat.

After a day at the office, itself no picnic and I think sort of important given the need for food on table and a roof overhead, it's time to take to the streets again. The trip home has the added heartpounding of a James Bond thriller (with none of the witty banter) as the "late pickup" timebomb ticks inexonerably down towards zero. $5 for 1 minute? Sure! No allowances for that four car pileup, you say? Of course!

Then, if you've remembered the dry cleaning or the groceries or the trip to the pharmacy, you arrive home. The ungrateful brats demand to be fed. Why yes, wouldn't we all, but instead they would also like to play in the garden, go to the park, dump out the nicely folded laundry, battle each other like mini-gladiators or some other activity that is ocertainly not going to get that food on the table in a jiffy. Once you have moved heaven and earth to cook, from scratch, a healthy, family meal for all to enjoy (we deserve awards for this), they proceed to turn up their noses, dump their plates on the floor and whip their milk across the room.

Yes. This is where I had had enough. And an epiphany.

Forget family dinners. Sure it's what you are supposed to do as a good parent, but it was making me a basketcase. A bad parent.

Now we cook something quick and easy that they will eat, and often it can still be healthy (I said often, not always). After they are in bed, then we can enjoy our own more civilized meal. We can still do a family meal or two on weekends, but it doesn't always fit in the gauntlet of modern family life. I'm ok with that.