Pokemon - The never ending saga

It started out so innocently, like most things in this house. Jonathon wanted Pokemon cards for his 8th birthday. (Truthfully, he wanted them before that, but I set an arbitrary age of 8 because it was finally my turn to make unreasonable rules and I wanted to get as much joy out of that fact as possible.) I remember how crazy these card made kids, fifteen years ago or so, and did not think the intensity of the craze could possibly be sustained. I forget one of the cardinal laws of parenthood: "Never assume anything." This rule is closely linked to the "Do the research before you say 'yes'" law.

Let me reassure you, those of you who are Pokemon virgins, who have firmly refused to let the cards into your house, the powers that are Pokemon are still going strong. The Pokemon people want, hope, and pray that your child's incessant pleading will reach your ears and limits of patience, so your dollars reach their bottom line. Honest to Goodness, what started out with one pack has exploded into Pokemon video games and cards all over the house. Each child has a three ring binder to keep all their cards separate and organized. (Lauren has one card in hers, and it is totally adorable watching her guard it and saying: "No trade, Noah! GET!)

Fortunately, after much yelling and threatening, I have become smart about the cards. If they are left out and about the cards become mine. I can sell them, trade them, or even worse, give them out to siblings as rewards. It is amazing how the threat of throwing out the whole binder doesn't even garner a reaction, but the idea of one of their brothers having their cards is just too much for them to bear. As far as the begging and pleading, if it wasn't this it would be something else, so I pretty much ignore or tune that out.

The upside is that I believe these cards have motivated Jonathon to become a better reader because he wants to be able to find out the information on the cards himself. Also, all the kids have learned about making fair trades and not agreeing to a trade until they have all the information. It absolutely blows my mind that Jonathon can tell me a Pokemon's evolutions, strength, weakness, type, and trainer, but is still reversing letters at school. I know, writing is not a priority for him (in his mind). Funny enough, he is starting to write stories about Pokemon adventures, so as long as I am smart enough to not point he is practicing his writing, we are both (reasonably) happy with the results.

So, instead of playing Barbie vs G.I. Joe, or Army, or He-man vs. She-ra (the best game ever because it involved sticks and phrases like "I've got the poowwwwerrr!"), like I did as a perfectly well-behaved child, my kids play Pokemon. My house is filled with cries of: "Charmander, I choose you!" Suddenly, out flies a Lauren or Brandon running around like crazy following Jon and Noah's attack commands. (It is play imitating life.) I have come to the conclusion that as long as the kids are having fun and there isn't much blood, I am going to let them play and use their imaginations. Who knows? Maybe I can teach my little Pokemon to cook dinner and do the laundry, after they pour me a glass of wine and rub my shoulders. (Apparently, my children aren't the only ones with overactive imaginations.)