Email
Print
Mom is no match for her two 'Space Invaders'
ADVERTISEMENT
Published: February 19, 2009
I grew up playing Atari, and my favorite game was Space Invaders. You remember — the game that kept you battling little critters who slowly ate away your defenses in an attempt to take over your part of the world.
Did I just describe a videogame invented 29 years ago or antics that began in 2002 when my son was born? Because once you have kids, you play this game every single day. Children are space invaders.
"Where do you want the computer?" my husband asked, referring to a used iMAC that my father-in-law gave the kids. "What are our options?" I countered, while tripping over a toy racing car. The playroom already had dinosaurs, dolls and dress-up clothes creeping out the door. Choosing one child's bedroom over another wasn't an option because neither comprehends co-owning an item housed in one bedroom. Anything in the purple room belongs to her, anything in the blue room is his.
"How about our bedroom?" my husband suggested. "No!" I said, emphatically putting my foot down on the idea … and stepping on a Barbie in the process. Our bedroom isn't much to look at, but it's ours.
It's the one room in the house that our children haven't yet attacked. Our wedding photo hangs on one bedroom wall. Photographs of Yosemite National Park, a place my husband and I visited before we married and had kids, hang on the other walls. Flashbacks to the days before the invasion.
It started with miniscule stuffed animals and fabric books for our newborn, piled in the corner of the living room. The first birthday brought corn poppers, blocks, bigger stuffed animals and a toy box, because we'd outgrown the living room corner. In the next few years we added more kids and more toys. Before I knew it, practically every room in the house resembled Santa's Toy Shop, minus the elves. But who knows, maybe there are elves. With 30,000 toys running wild, you could easily misplace an elf or two.
The computer found a home in the office, and my kids play with it while I'm working on my own computer. They take occasional breaks from their work to ride the rocking horse in the office corner, play dominos found in the coffee table, or read books hauled from their bookshelves. They've taken over the room, including my desk, which is littered with their drawings.
Three decades later, I still stink at fighting Space Invaders.
Email
Print
ADVERTISEMENT
Advertisement
