Stop want

We have entered the experimental stage. We meaning me trying to push new things on the kids and the kids resisting said things with all of their fierce little might.
They are my children, of course they're fierce.

This weekend was a perfect example of the push-pull relationship that balances on a worn leather string and could snap at any moment. The nature of the snap frightens the kids a little and me a lot. They have no idea what goes through my mind when I say, "Luca, Anna, I'm gonna lose my sh*t in a second. Knock it off."

They giggle. Imagine that.

Anyway, it was a weekend of new things and new ideas and new images. And they did, as most children will do when you want to have a good time, give them a little education and culture...
They complained. And wanted stuff. And nearly ate my pockets dry.

That's not to say that good times were not had, but in between the oooh and aaaah moments of ogling a 34 pound zucchini and throwing balloons into the Williams River and watching the Blanket Dance in an open field at a Powwow, they always seemed discontent. Lucian wanted more food, Anna wanted 2 more dollars, I wanted to trip them and throw them into the dance circle so that the Medicine Man would teach them a lesson.

Then, the wanting stopped. Simultaneously, they both looked up at the powwow and their little eyes rested on a girl in full regalia (probably Lakota) tying her hair back. She looked to be about 5, if that. She was alone, the look on her face was stern and set.
"What's she doing," Lucian asked.
"She's getting ready to dance."
"Why?"
"Because that's what her mother taught her, and her grandmother."

The enchanting child disappeared behind her mother's feathered skirt. Almost miraculously, Lucian stopped bitching about the long line for the lemonade and Anna stuffed her sweaty wad of cash back into her pocket. They were quiet for a moment, probably wishing they were that proud girl.

Of course, the moment we left the magic ceremony and stepped into Dick's Sporting Goods, all bets were off, again. Lucian wanted a bike and a $900 weight machine and Anna wanted a kayak and a pocketknife and they couldn't understand for the life of them why I couldn't/wouldn't buy them any of these things. Then finally Lucian broke the chaotic, homicidal silence of my mind.
"Mom, if you could have anything in this store what would it be?"
It didn't even take me a second. I sighed deeply and pointed to a black barrelled, wooden detailed 12 gauge.
"That."
"Wow, that's $450! You can't get that."
"I know," I said, "It's a good thing we don't always get what we want."

Needless to say the ride home was relatively quiet, punctuated only by a few giggles and very much thinking.