The Times, They Are A'Changin...

I remember when I was younger being outside playing for hours and hours. Literally not stopping for anything, even drinking from the hose and eating whatever my mom left on the porch if she decided it was time for us to eat. There were a few kids who lived somewhat near to us (my town had a population of 100 to give you an idea), and we would use our bicycles to make the journey to join forces and create enough bodies to form teams for various games.

If there happened to be an emergency-say we were terrified from running through the graveyard at dusk and needed to catch our breath-we would shout, "TIME OUT!", or "TIME!", or some variation, including making a "T" with our hands.

I remember when video games came out and to be honest, I didn't really understand Atari. It was lame. We handed it back to mom, the dust barely disturbed, and let it go back to where ever it came from. Then came Nintendo. Everyone got one for Christmas. Well, everyone except us. One of the following Christmases we were actually gifted with a beloved Nintendo Entertainment System (NES). We were finally movin on up. Nevermind that there were already newer, better game systems. It didn't matter to us. My brother and I traded our hours outside for hours in front of the TV. Somehow we didn't wind up with tendonitis from holding the controllers so furiously for so long (God bless youth). None of our friends came searching for us-they were just as brainwashed by their video games. Our parents didn't seem to care, after all we were quiet and out from underfoot, right?

Eventually the novelty wore off, puberty set in (which freed me from the gaming addiction while at the same time sadly trapping my brother for life), and I became too busy with real life, homework, and teenage melodrama to care about Nintendo.

Flash forward 15 years and I am all grown up with kids of my own. My son plays an online game. He is 5, doesn't read, and has no attention span. It never really crossed my mind that he would get addicted, but I see it now. I have had to set limits ("in 30 minutes you have to turn it off and come eat"), use bribery ("if you want to play later, you'd better pick up your clothes"), and threaten ("unless I see PERFECT behavior at the store..."). Very recently I have hidden the laptop cord and left the house in favor of the playground because once he knows the game is not an option he doesn't care about playing it. I need to remind him there is a beautiful world that God gave us to enjoy and the weather is too nice to be cooped up inside. The limitations have become more strict, and I will delete his character if it becomes a real problem. Now why didn't MY mom think of that!?

Yesterday we were at the playground and I was sitting there counting my blessings (okay, really I was totally beat from pushing three heavy kids on swings simultaneously), and the kids were running around chasing each other up and over, under and through all the equipment...they were completely breathless and red-cheeked and happy. Sarah stopped in her tracks, spun around, looked at her younger brothers, and yelled "PRESS PAUSE!".