Journal Entry 3

Thursday, September 10, 1987

Lindsey and Camille are both still sick. So we have a fairly toned-down, quiet day.

Before Camille arrives, my two sculpt with play dough. As soon as Camille walks in the door, however, she asks me to read some books. We all cuddle together, and I read five picture books. (This would never happen on a normal day, because Lindsey is far too physical, usually, to sit still so long, but it was nice.)

None of the books are about dinosaurs, but when the girls finally get restive with storytime, and go off to answer the question, “What next?” they see the paper, pencils, glitter, glue, and dinosaur stencils I had put on a table. Glitter's a pretty rare thing in their lives, so they are drawn to it like iron filings to a magnet. The girls begin to make sparkly dinosaurs and then branch out to sparkly pictures of everything else in the world.

Yes, this does include a certain number of sparkly fingers, plus the very occasional daub of glitter on a cheek or in the hair. I deal with the latter as quickly as possible with warm, wet washcloths.

After each kid has made several pictures, they seem poised to move off to another activity. But I ask them to help clean up the mess. The bulk of the mess we just toss out with the newspapers that had protected the table. Then I bring out a surprise:

Dinosaur “school boxes”!

These inexpensive cardboard boxes are built along the lines of old-fashioned cigar boxes, and they're decorated with colorful, rather silly dinosaurs wearing clothes. The boxes are identical, but I've labeled them neatly, and the kids carefully put their pencils and glue bottles inside. Then they pore over those funny pictures. Soon the girls have brought the boxes into the realm of their imaginations—Lindsey (they claim) is Debbie Dimetrodon, Camille is Mary Louise Allosaurus, and Mindy is Muffie Parasaurolophus.

Soon these characters are ditched, however, as the girls soon decide to play wedding. (What? Like anthropomorphized dinos can't get married?) Each of the girls takes turns being a bride, and the other two layers are flower girls. After several marriage ceremonies, the play morphs into other sorts of pretend scenarios. I'm busy jotting down these notes as I realize that they are playing something completely different.

“You're Mary Poppins,” Camille says. She goes on to inform me that she is Jane Banks, the girl in the book and movie who has Mary Poppins as her nanny. I wonder which of my girls is playing Michael Banks, but it turns out that Mindy and Lindsey are playing Jane's friends, Emily and Kelly. The Banks family in the books (but not the movie) includes twins, Barbara and John, and two dolls have been chosen to play those parts.

I am wondering if we can get a good room cleaning out of this game, but the girls have something else in mind: they want to watch the movie. I put it on, figuring that at least the sick kids can get some rest—but Mindy and Lindsey sing and dance through most of the movie.

They also go in and out of the kitchen with some frequency, getting small snacks and drinks (just like during “Dumbo” two days ago). They go in and out of the art area, also, getting chalk and chalkboards so they can be like Bert the chimney sweep and draw chalk pictures. Mindy decides to really be like Bert and goes outside to make large chalk drawings on the sidewalk.

I am definitely having a problem with the kids wanting to eat constantly. Normally, with my own kids, I'd probably say, “No, sorry, kitchen's closed,” but I have two problems doing that right now:

1)Camille and Lindsey are sick, and “normal” just doesn't seem to apply.
2)Camille really doesn't eat at established “mealtimes” and “snack times,” so I am afraid I'll starve her if I don't accede to her wishes to eat at other times.

I decide that, when all the kids are well, I will try to lay down the law and have set times for morning snack, lunch, and afternoon snack—then have the kitchen “closed” all other times.

I hope it works.

The movie is over, and the girls go out to see Mindy's pictures. On the way back inside, Lindsey finds a little folded bit of paper just inside the door. She opens it...

“It's a note!” she says.

“It's a note from the elves,” Mindy says with a huge grin.

Earlier that day we had read a book called I Don't Believe in Elves, by Jane Thayer. The elf in the book had left secret notes and surprises for the girl he lived with, trying to convince her that he existed. Although everyone can recognize Mindy's hand in the careful letters and flower picture on the note, we all agree that it must have been left by an elf.

Lindsey and Camille are quite delighted.

I go into the family room, where the girls had been watching the movie, to get the chalkboards and chalk so I can put them away. Then I have a brainstorm—what if I leave a note, too?

I carefully write a message on the chalkboard and sign it, “from the elf.” Then I pick up some cups and napkins and go back into the kitchen. “You guys left the chalkboards out,” I say. “Mindy and Camille, can you bring in the chalkboards? Lindsey, you pick up the chalk, please.”

Mindy is the only one to immediately comply, but she shrieks, “Look! Another note!” and the other two girls go running to see.

“It must have been an elf,” Lindsey says.

They need some help from me to read the note. They seem ecstatic over these secret messages and talk about elves as if they were real--but I am dead certain that all of them, even Lindsey, really knows we're just playing and that I wrote that note.

They know—but they still find it really, really fun.

The rest of the day, all of us continue to write and draw notes, fold them up, and leave them here or there for the others to find. A little routine happens each time we find a new note: each of us says, “I didn't write it!” and after we've all denied authoring the note, one of us says, “It must have been an elf.”

In between notes from elves, the girls bang and plink and plunk our musical instruments, ask me to read more stories, and play with Jeannie, a neighbor who is home from school. During the reading session, I read another wonderful dinosaur book by Aliki (My Visit to the Dinosaurs), plus a book called Do Not Open, by Brinton Turke.

Camille gets picked up early (because she is sick), but the neighbor, Jeannie, is still here. Mindy asks if I can read Do Not Open again.

So I do. This is the story of an old woman and her cat. They find a bottle washed up on the beach. The bottle says, “Do not open.” But the woman opens it, and unleashes an evil genie...Now she and her cat have to trick the genie back into the bottle. It's an exciting book!

Then Mindy asks if they can use the dinosaur stencils again.

“Okay,' I say, “but no glitter this time.” (I'm a pretty nice mom, but I'm not a martyr!) I get out the stencils, and the kids get out their special dinosaur school boxes. While Mindy directs Jeannie to Camille's box and pencil, I bring out the kind of colored pencils that can be blended with water. As the girls begin to show Jeannie how to use the stencils, I get a bowl of water and some paintbrushes. The three girls love experimenting with the new medium. When someone gets a good result, the others immediately try to copy that technique.

Lindsey gets tired of drawing first, and she gets out the play dough again. She starts to make play dough “cookies.” Soon Jeannie and Mindy join in.

When Jeannie goes home, Mindy goes back to drawing with the colored pencils and water. She is really enjoying this!

Then Mindy remembers that she wanted to water the plants out in back.

“But you have to come with me, Mom,” she says.

“Why?” I ask, surprised.

“I'm scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“That scary book Do Not Open.”

Leave it to my daughter to ask me to re-read a book she found frightening! I scoop up Lindsey and follow Mindy out the door, realizing that I am learning as much as they are, every day.