I realize it’s the parent thing to do: to think your child is some kind of genius. I mean who wants to make all manner of sacrifices for a person who is decidedly average, or below average?
If I’m going to lose sleep and forfeit my sanity it had better be for a good reason.
Jason and I were standing in the office today, looking out the window, spying on our spawn. The Hen was wearing his new favorite accessory (blue sunglasses) upside down on his face. Whilst spinning around on the deck. The Gort was wearing a too-small-baseball cap paired with camouflage rainboots (also too small). He’d tied a piece of orange string around his shirt after spending several minutes trying to hoist a chunk of wood up the side of a tree.
The kid never ceases to amaze me with his creative impulses (genius). I found him this morning, after breakfast, at the dining room table. Where he was placing pieces of masking tape on the smooth brown surface. In a grid-like fashion.
Why, I’m not sure. He was making a road, or something. And then he started taping pieces of folded paper to the strips of tape. And, later, I found markers and cars and pieces of tinker toys added to the ‘installation’. Most definitely his father’s child in that regard.
I was trying to take a nap last week, on account of being tired from growing a baby whale. One can’t blame the Gort for getting exceedingly bored when his brother is sleeping and his mother is also attempting to get some shut-eye. I’d just dozed off when he walked in my room carrying his latest art project: pastel crayons glued to a sheet of paper. I didn’t actually mind, because I’d grown rather weary of his pastel phase and thought this might nip it in the bud. ‘It’ being: having pastel fingerprints on all surfaces of our home. That is, until I dropped the piece of art on the floor today and the crayons fell from their glued-on spots onto the floor and wall.
In an attempt to kill two birds with one stone, I set my eldest to work last week. I needed (free) art for the baby’s room, and he wanted to paint with watercolors. He’s currently going through a transportation phase: buses and trains mostly; some trucks and cars here and there.
He’s also on a bit of a photography kick at the moment. Jason gave him our very first (tiny) digital camera, from 5 years ago. It’s pocket-sized and he’ll sometimes carry it around the house or with him on outings. When it ceased taking pictures on Sunday, we realized he’d filled up the memory card. So we downloaded the images…
Mr. G certainly has a knack for capturing the unattractive around our home. Our unbleached teeth, wrinkles, rolls of fat, elbows, headless mid-sections, the disaster that is our home on most days. It’s certainly humbling to see ourselves captured in such a manner. I especially enjoyed the ones of my enormous gut in a nightgown.
But, apart from his habit of obscuring photographs with his finger, and his obsession with capturing our red dining chairs placed upside down upon the table the (one) day I washed the floors, there were also some goodies that could be shared publicly.
I call this ‘the Hen, sitting at the table…beside an upside down red chair.’
This is ‘ketchup display at Wal-Mart’...I didn’t realize he was snapping pictures when we went backpack shopping on Sunday
We’ll call this ‘Jason….in the morning’
We were headed to the car wash and he was taking pictures in the van. ‘Let me see your face,’ he told me. I obliged, and he took a picture. ‘That’s a nice smile,’ he sweetly affirmed.