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Cade, my 3-year-old son, is so cute and loving. But, like most 3-year-olds, he can be trying at times.

We have a ritual at our house. It involves picking up his toys several times throughout the day. Why? He loves to throw his toys and books across the room.

He’s actually better than he used to be. His tendency to throw is common among some Down Syndrome children. Physical therapists have said he did this because he liked the sensation of throwing and that we should direct his impulse toward acceptable items - bean bags, socks, soft objects - and have him aim them toward a basket.

His aim is really good, too. A pink paper fish with a colorful tail of streamers had hung  in a doorway for several years - until this past month when Cade zeroed in on the floating fish and successfully knocked it from its place after several times of pummeling it with balls, cars, pillows and other toys.

We should stop him, and we do, but sometimes we just give out. And it’s these times when we say cade, Cade, CADE! … and then duck when a remote or favorite book comes hurling toward our heads. Unfortunately, sometimes we’re not so quick or we’re oblivious to the incoming plastic missiles.

But we love him. And, our living room will continue to look like a whirlwind just plowed through. (I wonder what my daughters’ friends’ mothers must think about my little pit. – If only they had stopped by three minutes earlier)

We continue to try to correct him and encourage him to restrain from chunking the DVDs, newspapers and toys across the room.

It’s encouraging that he’s better. His throwing habit has evolved into mostly tossing across the floor or carrying toys from one location to another.

And, also promising is his willingness to clean up while he sings the “Clean Up” song.

But don’t be surprised by the socks and toys thrown in our entertainment center, behind the furniture and pushed beneath the couch if you drop by. Oh, and, Duck! — Linda Lynn

My family has been camping for the past week.

Not outside of course. It’s hot there! But in a tent in the middle of the living room.

My 5-year-old has been learning about camping at preschool, and so we thought it’d be fun to actually break out the tent stored in an unopened box in our attic.

Putting the thing together was fun for my husband because there were no directions. Bravely, he managed and we soon had a bigger-than-I-expected igloo-shaped domicile. My daughter collected an array of snacks for our “camping” trip and I turned on the Discovery Channel (the TV was right there) to find some scenery.

Despite the whirl of the ceiling fan, it was fun to imagine we were actually on a great adventure. Our dogs became “bears” prowling for snacks. We made fire-free S’mores with chocolate marshmallows and Ritz crackers.

But did we sleep there? Of course not, the floor is hard after all.

Next my daughter wants to go fishing. Maybe we’ll turn the bathtub into a “pond.” Do goldfish crackers float?

Susan”Scared of Mosquitoes” Simpson

After the Hollywood Video store near our house went out of business last year, my family quit renting so many movies (Redbox is now our closest outlet and has very limited stock.) But we began buying the movies we knew the kids would watch over and over.

This has worked pretty well. We now have dozens of both classic and recent movies aimed at the under-12 set. A few are regretful purchases (Mimzy and The Wild didn’t inspire repeat viewings) but most will be great to hang onto until whatever new technology completely overtakes DVD. (I’ve only recently completed my long good-bye to the VCR.)

Occasionally, we go to a REAL MOVIE THEATRE and experience the big screen, buttered popcorn and all. This is a rather expensive way to spend every weekend for a family of four.

Last week, I took my 5-year-old to see Kung Fu Panda — how could we not after all the McDonald’s toys? — and she became restless within 30 minutes of its start. The popcorn and my pleading convinced her to stick with it through the end. I liked the movie and thought the animation was well done. Will we buy this movie when it comes out on DVD? Probably not.

This weekend I really want to go see Wall-E, Pixar’s newest animated feature. It’s gotten spectacular reviews from adults and children alike. I’ll take my 5-year-old and her sister, 10. I’m already planning to totally love the movie and think my girls will too. And yes, I already plan to buy it on DVD, I’m that convinced it’ll be a classic.

Maybe it’s because Wall-E is like my outdated VCR. Still functional, but not very sleek and swift. 

Susan Simpson 

My son just got a dirt bike. He’s 15.

Apparently, my husband and I lost our minds at the exact same moment. I knew we were slowly driving each other crazy over the years, but I never thought we’d simultaneously snap.

Because of our mental lapses, our son now has a shiny new dirt bike. Well, it was shiny for the trip home and for a brief time in the garage. Then, he rode it. Now, it has a nice scrape along the side, and both signal lights have been demolished. Oh, and he’s proudly sporting a skinned elbow and knee.

We live in the country which gives my son plenty of grass to ride on, and for that, I’m grateful. Of course, when he crashed the first time, he was turning around on the concrete driveway. Funny how that works.

I had a flashback to my own childhood as I watched him tearing across the yard a few days ago. I was raised on a farm and we were around dangerous equipment all the time. I was a kid when seatbelts didn’t exist unless you had one of those “fancy” cars, and even then they were usually buckled and stuffed between the seat cushions. We rode in backs of pickup trucks and sitting on sides of a tractor. We stood on the running board of the big grain trucks as we bumped and jostled our way down to the grain bins or out to the cattle pasture. When the family drove to the swimming hole (yes, that’s what we called it), my dad would put a board across the bed of his truck for kids to sit on. And, the day it hailed on us … well, we just held up the big towel Mom threw back there for us to use as shelter.

Which makes me wonder? How did we survive?

Believe me, I’m not advocating riding in a car with no seat belt or putting kids in the back of a truck. It’s a different time. Things are faster and there are more cars on the roads. The world seems more stressed. The only road rage I ever knew about in my childhood was when you were driving down a dirt road and the car coming toward you didn’t ease over enough and give you both room to pass. And, even then, the road rage manifested itself with only a curt nod to the other person … no smile, no howdy.

Believe me, I’m as cautious as the next parent. When my son was growing up, I dutifully put him in a car seat. I walked him to school to protect him from strangers and I didn’t turn him loose to play in the neighborhood sight unseen. I don’t believe it takes a village to raise a child, I believe it takes parents.

But, now he’s a teenager and has a dirt bike. There’s no car seat on that thing. He is required to wear a helmet, not only be me, but by state law. Thank goodness.

Like it or not, I see that he’s growing up. He’s taller than my husband, wears a bigger shoe, and he’s shaving. I can’t always protect him. He has to be given responsibility to make wise decisions. All I can do is keep medical supplies handy … and pray.

Any parents out there who’ve been down the dirt bike trail with their kids? I could use some advice.

- Guest contributor, Judy Hooper, The Oklahoman