I love getting mail. I really do.
E-mail, snail mail, post comments. Mail is fun. I like knowing people are out there, and it lets the powers that be at the Herald (because I am just a civilian) know they should keep me around and let me talk more.
I got a great note the other day regarding the board games post.
Wendy from Richland wrote: “My son was also not excited about the "going back" part of Candy Land. We have the Dora the Explorer version, so this is what we came up with. Because it looks like a party when you get to the end of Candy Land, if someone went back, we said, "Uh-oh, we forgot to invite Benny the Bull (or insert character that is on the space you go back to)". It has been very effective. My son still gets disappointed, but he understands there is a reason for "going back." I hope this helps.”
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I really like this idea! You are sending your piece back to get a guest for the party so there isn’t anyone left out. Not only does it lessen the blow of having to go back, but it also reinforces to the kids to be inclusive. Something I, as a parent, want to instill… and it has nothing to do whatsoever with my being one of those often left out kids… nothing whatsoever!
The other e-mail I received after this post was from a friend suggesting we start up a board game night among friends! Major score for me -- we get to play board games AND go out with adults!
My son received Hullaballo for Easter this year. Yes, another Cranium game in the same vane as Cariboo only far more physical. Almost like Twister.
It was an instant hit in our house as anything would be that actually TELLS you to jump.
But it actually has helped me to hone in on maybe what my son’s issue with some of the other board games like Candy Land is – as it cropped up in this one, too. See with Candy Land, his issue was deciding which direction HE wanted to go. Being forced into a linear game going to the end to “win” wasn’t part of his end goal. Anyways, with Hullaballo, when the game announces who the winner is (and it is completely random, no stacking the deck here), he runs over to prepare for the next round. He could care less who won.
This is perplexing to my husband and myself. Competitive is our middle names. We don’t play chess anymore because we will spend the night insisting on rematch after rematch. We have mini-cooking competitions in our house -- who made the best spaghetti sauce last summer, who reigns as Iron Chef Sauce?
Not caring who wins?
Is he really our son?