Backpack, Backpack...Backpack, Backpack

I don't know how we've made it through three years of parenthood without Dora the Explorer making herself cozy in the Ropko household. Our not having cable has probably been a huge help. Save for a few DVD rentals here and there, we've pretty much escaped many of the popular commercial characters out there. I've heard of The Wonder Pets. I don't know what kind of pets they are, and I have no idea why they are wonderful. It's also probably helpful that my son's run, crash, banshee scream personality persuades him to seek his fun in the form of running with wild abandon outside. Throwing sticks over the fence into the neighbor's yard and "making mud" are great activities.

Don't get me wrong, he's like any other kid who likes to watch television. He just gravitates toward the likes of Thomas the Train. Cinders and ashes! Thomas yells as he crashes over the edge of Farmer McColl's broken bridge into the muddiest of muds. And Curious George. George! Don't climb into that excavator parked at a construction site! His new favorite is The Electric Company. It was actually a personal favorite of mine when I was little, too. I found it delightfully lively in a way that Mr. Rogers wasn't. Hey you guys! So mysterious and nearly spooky with the shadowed profiles. Sh. Ut. Shut. (They still build the words, only now the faces are visible.) They still dance. They still sing. Heck, they even have a pretty good beatboxer named Shock. But apparently what has been missing from my son's life is a cute, brown-eyed, adventurous, bilingual girl who wears a purple shirt. Someone he can grow so quickly attached to that he has already pronounced her his girlfriend.

New Year's Day my husband and I took the kids to a local video store. In all honesty, we were looking for something for ourselves, and I foolishly thought we could get out of there without having to rent Hero of the Rails, again. Heath, however, made a quick-dash beeline for the Kids section of the store. As I'm standing in front of Paranormal Activity, trying to decide if I'm willing to be disappointed when it doesn't scare the bejeezus out of me, I feel a tug on my leg.

I want this.

I don't even see the title. Just pink and purple. I must have looked skeptical.

I want this, he says again.

It's not just a Dora DVD. It's Dora's Christmas. Like I said, it was New Year's Day, but I guess you can't blame him. Our tree is still up. The Christmas DVD section is still on major display. It would be too hard to explain to him that I've had my fill of squeaky-voiced characters talking about Santa and elves and presents and reindeer. And I was sure that Dora was going to drive me over the edge. Or at least, the newest edge. Turns out I have a lot of edges.

So Dora came home with us. Turns out there's a lot to like about her. There's a lot of math: counting and sequencing. Over the snowy mountain. Around the blue tunnel. To the duck pond. There are preschool pauses, so there's lots of opportunity to be engaged. What was your favorite part of the adventure? Pause. Pause. Pause. Me, too! Dora and her pals like to sing. Where are we going? Clap, Clap, Clap. To the looney bin. Where are we going? Clap, Clap, Clap. To the looney bin. And who wouldn't want to spend time with a thrill-seeking girl whose best friend is a monkey named Boots.

It's been three days since she arrived and she's really made quite an impression. As I was heading out the door on my 8-mile run, Heath said, Mom, I need new, new red, red boots and a purple jacket, like Dora and Boots. 5 miles into my run, I'd finally settled into my groove, my feet rhythmically bouncing off the sidewalk. I found myself singing, Backpack, backpack...backpack, backpack. 7.6 miles into the run, my husband drives by in the station wagon on the way back home from the grocery store. Heath is hanging out of the car window holding a box of what I can only guess is some sort of snack void of any nutritional value. Mom, he yells. I got Dora fruit snacks!

I think Dora is due back at the video store tomorrow.