Am I not big on high-tech toys because I'm an old mom?

No.

Sure, way back in the days when I was a kid "Operation" was about the most complicated toy around (the magnet-body part combo being quite sophisticated), aside from giant frisbees of dinosaur poop, of course, and dolls did little more than "drink and wet", which was pretty straightforward a process, but that doesn't mean I'm not savvy.

I swing with the big kids to a certain height on computer usage, can make movies with my phone, program my car CD player AND change the cycle on my dishwasher, so it's not that the tech part stumps me. I just don't want my kids getting sucked into the electronic world of cyber-fun and pseudo-adventure ... not now, not ever.

I love the fact that an empty formula tin and accompanying scoop are considered beach toys by my three year old, and that forming migrations with the hundred or so animals he owns can keep him busy for hours. It brings me nothing but delight that he can make boats out of coconut husks and organize hermit crab races and draw a diplodocus in the sand. Watching him 'read' book after book, often including his baby sister in his reading circle, is one of my greatest joys.

A cloth diaper around his neck, and he's a super hero. The vacuum cleaner hose makes him an elephant. Bubbles are heaven. A box of band-aids is a costume shop. (See photo. Here's he made himself into a cat.)

I know. Some of you will point out that he is only three and a half, and pressures will come up, and he'll be champing at the bit for a Game Boy (or whatever those things are called now) five minutes after he starts school and sees all the stuff the other boys have.

You know what? I don't want to hear about it. Let me pretend for a while that life on a beach with sand and sea and fresh air and tortoises and coconuts and dinosaurs will keep him happy for the next ten years. Twenty, even. After that he can discover girls.

See? I'm cool.