In an attempt to stay away from TV, I've started turning to crafts after school. This usually involves downloading coloring pages from the internet, but sometimes we go on pinecone hunts and make turkeys that look half fowl half like Joanne's dollar aisle vomited on some branches.

Today it was cotton balls from the 99cent store glued onto cut out cardboard circles from my new Braun coffee press box. It matters to the children not a stitch that the snowman bellies are more misshapen than Lindsay Lohan's liver after a bender. The kids are just happy to stick cotton on them (The circles, not Lindsay Lohan.)

While I'm thrilled that my creativity is keeping my children entertained, I do worry that I'm not providing the most physical example for my kids. Rex is no better. "Let's throw a football around the yard!" Um, no. But play a game of Pong on a thirty year old Atari? Look out, some testorone is going to fly!

Lest you tell me I'm being a bit neurotic about my concerns, let me regale you with a story my cousin reminded me of this past weekend. Last year Stink was at Costco eating his way through the samples. A large man in a red apron handed him a meatball.

Stink:  "Mmm, delicious meatball!" (Then, staring at the man.) "You have a very warm face."

Man: (Taken aback, big Bronx accent) "Thanks, kid. Hey, you must be five."

Stink: "How did you know? Do you have a magic eye like my mommy that can read my brain?"

Man: "No. But my grandson is five and he's about your size. He likes to play sports. Do you?"

Stink: Horrifed. "NOOOOOOOO! I am a dancer!"

I'm just sayin'.


More of my writing can be found daily at BabyCenter and Good Housekeeping.

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