Just when I thought the kiddos had given up on playing trains, to the point that we had dismantled their train table this weekend to store for awhile and not bought tickets to attend Day Out With Thomas for the first time in three years, their interest in trains has returned. In fact, they are watching "Thomas and Friends" as I type, with their little trains--Thomas and Rosie--in hand.
But I don't think we'll be pulling that train table out anytime soon. I think it's too small! Their current layout, with multiple tracks and several features (bridge, wash, roundhouse), takes up the entire floor space of the 1st floor playroom, about 8 x 8' (because the igloos are still out, too!). Much bigger than their table. For now, it's fine in the playroom, but I'm hoping to relocate all the little pieces--the bane of my existence, for we have 1000s of little pieces in this house--to the basement once this current layout is demolished.
Mama's in on the train action too, being late to leave both yesterday and today as she helped with track layout and then stopping by the toy store to replace Sis's broken self-propelled engine. If this keeps up, I wonder if we'll have a train set under our Christmas tree?? I think Pop would like that. Though, I'm not sure Mama is ready to share her special limited edition Hogwarts Express HO set just yet, which might mean there are more trains in our future!!!
Showing posts with label Thomas the Tank Engine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thomas the Tank Engine. Show all posts
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Sexism and Thomas the Tank Engine
"Did you tell your friend that we would be here?" his wife asked.
"No, why would he come? He just has daughters," the husband replied.
It must be a sentiment shared by many CT parents, as girls were few and far between at the Day out with Thomas. Lots of moms, more dads than you see at almost any event, boys galore. And just Sis and a few others. But I'd wager that Sis had as much fun as Bud. They both loved the amusement park rides--boats, firetrucks, and carousel. Sis especially liked getting a temporary Rosie tattoo and meeting Sir Topham Hatt. Bud didn't like that at all, much preferring to play with the toy trains on the track layouts. And riding Thomas the Tank Engine? That was best of all. Sis and Bud sat taking it all in, concentrating, mesmerized by the rumble of the engine, the sight of white steam spreading across the meadow, the smell of burning coal, the smooth leather seats that reversed to allow family groupings, even the luggage rack overhead where we happily placed all of our jackets. But it wasn't until we received our Jr Engineer certificates and left the train that they cracked huge smiles. Hers just as big as his.
I must admit to a little of my own sexism yesterday. And it has to do with my perceptions of the differences of male and female parenting. For two years running at Day out with Thomas, plus other situations like birthday parties when dads are present too, I have noticed that dads seem to be a lot less likely to step in and enforce a civil, social code of behavior with their children (specifically their sons). How many times yesterday did I see dads step back while their sons got into shoving matches and tug-o'wars for train engines? But as soon as moms showed up, the moms would pull the boys apart, often insisting that they share or, if not, have to leave the play area. Of course, being an enforcer of social behavior, I'm always a little surprised at some dads' complete lack of attention to such things. Not just surprised, annoyed. Frustrated. Righteous, even. This is, of course, a complete and stereotypical generalization, because I know lackadasical moms and disciplined dads. And I'm both at times, different times. But as a keen observer of fatherhood from a distance, I often wonder exactly how the parenting differs. And this is what I've noticed--there is just a lot less of "what do we say?" or "you need to share" or "your turn is over now so let's give that toy to the other little boy" and a lot more turning a blind eye to toy snatching and shoving. I've got some incomplete, sociologically and psychologically weak, even sexist theories as to why.
You with dads in the family, or dads yoursevles, can you help me out? What's going on? Or am I way off base?
"No, why would he come? He just has daughters," the husband replied.
It must be a sentiment shared by many CT parents, as girls were few and far between at the Day out with Thomas. Lots of moms, more dads than you see at almost any event, boys galore. And just Sis and a few others. But I'd wager that Sis had as much fun as Bud. They both loved the amusement park rides--boats, firetrucks, and carousel. Sis especially liked getting a temporary Rosie tattoo and meeting Sir Topham Hatt. Bud didn't like that at all, much preferring to play with the toy trains on the track layouts. And riding Thomas the Tank Engine? That was best of all. Sis and Bud sat taking it all in, concentrating, mesmerized by the rumble of the engine, the sight of white steam spreading across the meadow, the smell of burning coal, the smooth leather seats that reversed to allow family groupings, even the luggage rack overhead where we happily placed all of our jackets. But it wasn't until we received our Jr Engineer certificates and left the train that they cracked huge smiles. Hers just as big as his.
I must admit to a little of my own sexism yesterday. And it has to do with my perceptions of the differences of male and female parenting. For two years running at Day out with Thomas, plus other situations like birthday parties when dads are present too, I have noticed that dads seem to be a lot less likely to step in and enforce a civil, social code of behavior with their children (specifically their sons). How many times yesterday did I see dads step back while their sons got into shoving matches and tug-o'wars for train engines? But as soon as moms showed up, the moms would pull the boys apart, often insisting that they share or, if not, have to leave the play area. Of course, being an enforcer of social behavior, I'm always a little surprised at some dads' complete lack of attention to such things. Not just surprised, annoyed. Frustrated. Righteous, even. This is, of course, a complete and stereotypical generalization, because I know lackadasical moms and disciplined dads. And I'm both at times, different times. But as a keen observer of fatherhood from a distance, I often wonder exactly how the parenting differs. And this is what I've noticed--there is just a lot less of "what do we say?" or "you need to share" or "your turn is over now so let's give that toy to the other little boy" and a lot more turning a blind eye to toy snatching and shoving. I've got some incomplete, sociologically and psychologically weak, even sexist theories as to why.
You with dads in the family, or dads yoursevles, can you help me out? What's going on? Or am I way off base?
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
DD's Theme Song
DD: I'm James.
Me: What, sweetie? (because, well, her name isn't James, even if it is a family name).
DD: I'm lots of fun. And Nate is Thomas. He's the cheeky one.
Maybe you have to know the song.
Ten points to you if you can guess.
Me: What, sweetie? (because, well, her name isn't James, even if it is a family name).
DD: I'm lots of fun. And Nate is Thomas. He's the cheeky one.
Maybe you have to know the song.
Ten points to you if you can guess.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Connecticut Yankees in Sir Topham Hatt's Court
We had a hurricane on Saturday, the day we had bought tickets months ago to spend a Day out with Thomas. And despite the dismal weather, we went to Essex and had a wonderful time. Good yankees (even transplants like myself) aren't deterred by a little rain and 45 mph winds. Besides, it made it all more British. I mean, who expects perfect, sunny weather on the oh-so-Anglo Isle of Sodor? And our kiddos don't notice weather anyway.
Which is good, because it started to spit as we arrived in eastern CT. As a sign of good things to come, however, we got one of the last parking spots in the closest lot. From there, we entered the festival grounds and almost immediately saw Thomas the Tank Engine pulling in a passenger train. DD and DS were beside themselves--it was Big Thomas! And they were going to ride on him!
But first, they wanted to ride all the kiddie rides. Carousel, first. Up and down, around and around--their favorite ride at the zoos. Then they spotted the little train. Which parents aren't allowed to ride. Hmmm, two year olds alone on a questionable mechanical ride. But you have to let go sometime, and they seemed so determined as they climbed into the train car themselves and sat on the same side but not too close to one another. Stoically, they rode around on the jerky, miniature train, smiling each time they saw us wave. Our little kids were all grown up. And wanted to ride again. DS headed straight to the engine--he didn't even exit and re-enter, but luckily there was no line--and sat right now with the bell pull within reach. Sis sat across from him and they drove the train. And then moved on to the fire trucks, on which they were the only kids not crying like the visitors to Santa in A Christmas Story.
As the downpour picked up we headed to the Thomas shop. While not thrilled with the commercialism (or burgeoning brand loyalty), we perused the offerings and chose two little trains for our wooden track. A Thomas for DS and a purple train named Rosie for DD (her choice, because of the purple, no doubt. Though, when asked, she says her favorite color is green). And we loved watching the model train at the back of the shop. ImaginationStation downstairs was equally enthralling, with toy train sets and coloring sheets and free tattoos. Oddly, the kiddos, especially DD, were really excited about Sir Topham Hatt (though she calls him Sir Captain Hat). See, we don't really watch Thomas and Friends, they just like trains. So, I can't imagine how they really have any grasp of who the man in the morning suit is. But DD wanted to see him, though not enough to stand in line, and so we took her back over and over.
It was our ticket time to ride Thomas. "All Aboard," the conductor called. And we gleefully climbed aboard our passenger car. Sitting in facing seats, the kids jubilantly waved out the window at anyone, and most of them waved back. Soon the train pulled out of the station and we were on our way. I'll hand it to the organizers, the little stories they told during the trip made sense of why Thomas was in back of the train and then why we later reversed direction. There were also stories about being good. None of which my kiddos paid any attention to. They were driving their own Thomas and Rosie up and down the window ledges and across the seats, then drawing pictures in the condensation of the glass. DP draws a mean tank engine and several kids in nearby seats watched. The ride was just long enough that we enjoyed it but didn't get bored. We disembarked and waved goodbye to Thomas, soon heading to lunch in a nearby restaurant and home.
The epilogue of my story wraps up our very British day: we had a tea party at home. Using her pink and green tin tea set, DD served tea to myself and her brother, repeatedly. She'd pour the tea, we'd drink, she'd take the cups and pour again. Over and over. We added the milk bottle from the baby set because I like milk in my tea. There were even slices of cake, from the birthday cake set, and we ate those on pretty little plates, singing "Happy Birthday" for each of us, a few times. And when I told her how much I liked her tea, DD hopped up, grabbed a post it and crayon, and wrote out the recipe for me.
All in all, a marvelous day.
Which is good, because it started to spit as we arrived in eastern CT. As a sign of good things to come, however, we got one of the last parking spots in the closest lot. From there, we entered the festival grounds and almost immediately saw Thomas the Tank Engine pulling in a passenger train. DD and DS were beside themselves--it was Big Thomas! And they were going to ride on him!
But first, they wanted to ride all the kiddie rides. Carousel, first. Up and down, around and around--their favorite ride at the zoos. Then they spotted the little train. Which parents aren't allowed to ride. Hmmm, two year olds alone on a questionable mechanical ride. But you have to let go sometime, and they seemed so determined as they climbed into the train car themselves and sat on the same side but not too close to one another. Stoically, they rode around on the jerky, miniature train, smiling each time they saw us wave. Our little kids were all grown up. And wanted to ride again. DS headed straight to the engine--he didn't even exit and re-enter, but luckily there was no line--and sat right now with the bell pull within reach. Sis sat across from him and they drove the train. And then moved on to the fire trucks, on which they were the only kids not crying like the visitors to Santa in A Christmas Story.
As the downpour picked up we headed to the Thomas shop. While not thrilled with the commercialism (or burgeoning brand loyalty), we perused the offerings and chose two little trains for our wooden track. A Thomas for DS and a purple train named Rosie for DD (her choice, because of the purple, no doubt. Though, when asked, she says her favorite color is green). And we loved watching the model train at the back of the shop. ImaginationStation downstairs was equally enthralling, with toy train sets and coloring sheets and free tattoos. Oddly, the kiddos, especially DD, were really excited about Sir Topham Hatt (though she calls him Sir Captain Hat). See, we don't really watch Thomas and Friends, they just like trains. So, I can't imagine how they really have any grasp of who the man in the morning suit is. But DD wanted to see him, though not enough to stand in line, and so we took her back over and over.
It was our ticket time to ride Thomas. "All Aboard," the conductor called. And we gleefully climbed aboard our passenger car. Sitting in facing seats, the kids jubilantly waved out the window at anyone, and most of them waved back. Soon the train pulled out of the station and we were on our way. I'll hand it to the organizers, the little stories they told during the trip made sense of why Thomas was in back of the train and then why we later reversed direction. There were also stories about being good. None of which my kiddos paid any attention to. They were driving their own Thomas and Rosie up and down the window ledges and across the seats, then drawing pictures in the condensation of the glass. DP draws a mean tank engine and several kids in nearby seats watched. The ride was just long enough that we enjoyed it but didn't get bored. We disembarked and waved goodbye to Thomas, soon heading to lunch in a nearby restaurant and home.
The epilogue of my story wraps up our very British day: we had a tea party at home. Using her pink and green tin tea set, DD served tea to myself and her brother, repeatedly. She'd pour the tea, we'd drink, she'd take the cups and pour again. Over and over. We added the milk bottle from the baby set because I like milk in my tea. There were even slices of cake, from the birthday cake set, and we ate those on pretty little plates, singing "Happy Birthday" for each of us, a few times. And when I told her how much I liked her tea, DD hopped up, grabbed a post it and crayon, and wrote out the recipe for me.
All in all, a marvelous day.
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