I had a strict rule for myself (for example) that I would not let the scale go past 52 kg. It was fairly easy to do, for two years, by simply stopping when I was full and choosing a piece of citrus fruit instead of a bowl of ice cream. Not really rocket science.
|Bright's new nanoblock Chrystler Tower set.|
Take my boys, for example. Thomas the Tank Engine, who's little toot could be heard whistling around Sodor from morning until night, has long-since pulled into his shed for good. In fact, we're having a toy sale in a few weeks, and Thomas and friends will surely be among the items to go.
Now all I hear about is Star Wars. They make light sabers out of pvc pipe and practice their Jedi mind tricks. Zion has a growing stack of completed marker drawings featuring C3PO with his arm cut off, X-wings flying through the sky, and the Death Star blowing up in vivid color.
There is no more Good Night, Moon being read in our home. Nope. Now its Encyclopedia Brown by booklight until he falls asleep, him barely blowing us a kiss as we close the door. I used to say to my preschoolers, "Don't hit or punch or kick, that isn't nice," and now I say things like, "Don't hit or punch or kick until you've first cleared it with your opponent that he is ready and willing."
People change, situations change, and time moves on. "Honor G0D with your lives," has become our one, unchanging rule to live by.