A Mom Blog Social Network
Rooney and Stewie were tired.
Stewie had four friends sleep-over the night before in celebration of his 7th birthday. It was quite a party - sundaes and bonfires and glow-sticks and running around like maniacs. It was the kind of party that will take months of recovery before I am able to host another like it. They were good, fun-loving boys. Everyone had a ball and the party went late-night...very late-night for 5 seven year old boys and 1 eight year old big sister. At 11:30pm, there were still three die-hards fighting off the peaceful sleep that I was so looking forward to.
As a result, we were all suffering from a party hang-over the next day.
It was a nice spring day. Rooney and Stewie wanted to go outside and play but were too tired and cranky to do anything pleasantly together. They were also too tired and cranky to do anything pleasantly separately. They were just tired and cranky enough to drive me crazy.
Exactly the attitude I was receiving all day...
In a desperate, last-ditch attempt at finding them something to do that was quiet and required no input from me, I sent them both outside to the picnic table, each with a notebook and a pencil. I declared it a "Science Day". The object was to go out and observe their surroundings quietly, document it all in their notebooks, and report back to me in an hour.
Both of them looked less than enthused as they trudged outside. I don't blame them - it was a pretty lame idea. But, I'm the mom so...whatever. Just go and do and leave me with a moment's peace, for the love of God.
Frequently, I looked out the window into the backyard to check on them. Here is what I observed on Science Day:
Rooney was writing.
Stewie was writing.
Rooney was looking around, pencil poised, deep in thought.
Stewie was laying on the ground.
Rooney was hunched over her paper, writing.
Stewie was dangling over the seat of the swing, gently swaying, dragging his hands and feet in the dirt.
Rooney was peering through binoculars, then resumed the hunch over her paper, writing frantically.
Stewie was tickling the nose of the neighbor's cat with a long blade of grass.
An hour later, Rooney came in, proudly flourishing her journal with five pages of notes, front and back, neatly written. I had to go out and coax Stewie away from a thrilling game of "Terrorize the Cat with a Remote-Controlled Car" by luring him inside with the promise of a bowl of cereal.
While they were snacking, I read their journals.
An excerpt from Rooney's journal:
Cat is in the bushes relaxing. George is barking at the cat. Stewie blew a whistle and George barked at him. Birds are chatty. Stewie is running with a large stick pretending to hunt. Someone talked and George barked again and again and again. The wind is blowing. Mommy and Daddy are talking in a long conversation. Mommy laughed. Mommy tells Stewie to come back into our yard. The wind blew my page. Stewie twisted himself in the swing and twirls around being dizzy. I had to sharpen my pencil. Mommy tells me not to run with a pencil. I hear a kid voice. I hear a whoo whoo sound I hear a clucking sound from a crow or a woodpecker. I hear whoo whoo again. And a tweet. I looked in binoculars and saw a leaf fall. My pencil just rolled off the table. George walked in his yard and pooped. I saw an ant on my paper. I flicked it off. I see a robin in the tree. George is looking at it. Oh no I wonder if George wants to eat it for dinner....
...and so it continued for four more pages, front and back, neatly written.
The contents of Stewie's entire journal:
I hear windy. It is shiny out here. This is boring.
And that, in a nut-shell, is the difference between boys and girls.