Perception

What do a mummy, a volcano, a haunted house, a jail, an ancient city, an artist’s studio, and a swimmin’ hole have in common? All have the power to shape perception. If, as is rumored, perception is reality, each of us lives in a unique reality that either renders us hopelessly swimming in an abyss or offers the opportunity for continuous celebrations of life. Neither is entirely true—only our skewed view; however, a good old celebration beats swimming in an abyss any day of the week.

Being the overachiever grandmother that I fancy myself to be, I am interested in assuring myself of seven celebrating pollywogs rather than an equal number of dour mugwumps. I don’t want my seven swans-a-swimming in the abyss so to speak. Hence, a mummy, a volcano, a haunted house, a jail, an ancient city, an artist’s studio, and a swimmin’ hole.

I asked the older pollywogs what they would like to see/do and got more than I bargained for. Bryan (8) wanted to see a real mummy. (I always loved teaching mummification and suggested to students that they save the gory details for the dinner table. Parents wouldn’t ask about school again for days.) Anyway, Bryan, Tyler (7), and Anna Lauren (5) saw a child mummy last summer, giving me a chance to relive my glory days. They giggled when I told them the brain was pulled through the nostrils, but the boys felt a little squeamish upon learning that certain body parts often fell off during mummification. Anna Lauren missed that part of the lesson. Bryan watched Steve Martin’s famous King Tut performance on Saturday Night Live preserved on YouTube, and I promised to mummify a chicken the next time he comes to the lake. As soon as the fighting stops in the Middle East, we’re off to Egypt to sail the Nile. Hopefully, I will still be alive.

The volcano was Bryan’s idea, too; all kids love exploding mountains. On St. Kitts we could hike to the top of a dormant volcano, and on St. Lucia we could drive right up to the “bubbling sulfur springs and hissing pools of steam.” Decisions, decisions.

When I couldn’t find a haunted house for Tyler, I substituted a ghost tour at Williamsburg. He also wanted to see a jail, so I put him in the stocks. He is rethinking his choices. A little time in the big house will do that.

Last year Keegan (11), Bryan, and Tyler visited an ancient city in Belize at Tyler’s request. They climbed to the top of Mayan pyramid-like structure and tried not to fall off. Keegan was stung by a swarm of bees, and unfortunately, that seemed to be more interesting to them than the ancient city.

Keegan wanted to see a professional artist’s studio, so one is on the agenda for next summer. I think it is important to encourage their creative tendencies and show them different ways to express themselves. In the meantime, Keegan learns to play the fiddle and sings like Taylor Swift, and Bryan takes art classes. Anna Lauren colors anything that doesn’t run off first. Tyler isn’t necessarily artistic, but he is good with lizards. According to Rachel, Wynn (19 months) doesn’t color yet; he just laughs and bangs things. Aiden (7 months) and Leighton (5 months) can’t have crayons; they would eat them.

The swimmin’ hole was also Keegan’s idea. No doubt she envisioned something a little more rustic than Lake Lanier, but this is the best we can do without conjuring up a whole hoard of snakes. She learns to water ski while the other kids ride the giant raft across the wake of speed boats, holding on for dear life and knowing that they’ll get their turn on the skis.

Anna Lauren and her grandfather build bird houses, feed the birds and squirrels, go fishing, stare at insects crawling on the porch, watch tadpoles swim in the water fountain, hunt for hidden Mickeys, and toss stale bread to the ducks. Her only request? “When are we going on our Disney cruise?”

See where I am going with this? The little boogers are actively seeking experiences in a larger world; something that will certainly stimulate their creativity, spark their imaginations, expand their horizons, and keep them out of the abyss.

Upon further reflection and putting all the philosophy hooey aside, perhaps I just like a good time.