And another

another

pictures

Imogen's first get-rich-quick scheme

I have a little entrepreneur on my hands. Either that or a scam artist. At any rate, the kid has been losing teeth. And making money at it. After that third tooth came out, well, let's just say that if she were a cartoon character, there would have been a lightbulb over her head and a wicked grin on her face.

She found a little white rock, roughly the same size and shape as a little tooth. You know where this is going. She put it in an envelope and labeled it herself "Imogens fourth tooth" and stuck it under her pillow. Genevieve loved the plan. Honestly, she was salivating for how brilliant she thought it was. Genius, pure genius! No way the tooth fairy would see through this one.

Unfortunately, the tooth fairy did see through it. She left a note for the young businesswoman of the house that she can not be fooled and she only pays for teeth, not rocks.

Sorry for the lack of updates lately. Imogen got a haircut last week (because she started it herself) and I'll be putting a picture of that up soon.

Genevieve's stitches

Looks gruesome, hm?

Today the doctor was taking them out and she asked "Do you want to save them?" I was revolted. "People DO that??" I asked. "Yes, for baby books and stuff. You know, first stitches and all," she said.

And I thought it was a little morbid to take pictures of them. The last thing I need is a bunch of scabby dried up bits of black string to commemorate this event. The very thought makes me twitch.

Will work for ice cream...

The girls were supposed to pick up the living room. We piled everything in a pile in the middle of the floor, mostly laundry and toys, but school papers end up there as well. But that's a boring thing to do with one's weekend, and they found themselves easily distracted. After numerous reminders and warnings, I finally got tired of it. I called them to me in the next room and said "I want that pile cleaned up. Whoever cleans up most will get ice cream." Jaws dropped and they ran out of the room to clean up.

Jeremy looked at me incredulously. "Are you going to watch them?" he asked. "No," I said.

About five minutes later they came rushing back, assuring me that they each picked up the most. I made a production of walking into the living room to somehow determine who had done the most. Imogen started picking up the coloring book mess. "Look!" she said loudly, "I'm picking up things that are NOT in the pile!" Genevieve scrambled to help. After a short deliberation and analysis, I concluded that they both picked up the same amount of stuff and thus would both get ice cream.

Which was the point from the start. But if you promise that they'll both get ice cream when they are finished with the chore, then what's the motivation to do it quickly? And if you put a time limit on that, then they must compete with a clock, which is insubstantial and rather abstract to a child. But seeing your sister pick up with your own eyes, knowing that she might be the one to get the ice cream? That's motivation.

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In movies, a child's drawing offer exciting and plot-relevant insight into the child's point of view. Children draw relatives dying three days before that character dies a gruesome on-screen death. They draw memories of past lives, or ghosts that only they can see.

But in the mundane real world, children's drawings tend to be a little more generic. It's true that each child has their own style. Imogen's people have disturbingly short legs and Genevieve's have no body at all, but their limbs simply grow out of their heads. "Look mommy, I drew you as a mutant!" But mostly they are just drawings.

However, sometimes you get a drawing that does actually offer insight into your child's mind, and while it may not be a supernatural indication that your child is ready for therapy, it can be interesting nonetheless.

See the drawing above. Imogen brought this home from school. This is her family, from right to left, Genevieve, Imogen, myself, and Jeremy. Hair is a defining feature here, classifying each family member into the tiny group in which they belong. We are grouped as a family and then sub grouped into people who are similar.

I've always hated labeling people. In high school you have all these labels. Skater, goth, punk, emo, jock, alpha, etc. People like Imogen invented those labels, I'm convinced of it, out of a need to categorize.