It's three days before the end of summer and my husband and I can't wait for school to start. Our lovely six year old is driving us completely crazy. Her creative energy is about to peak, resulting in turning our entire house into an elaborate game of make-believe, where everything is something else and must therefore be moved from where it usually resides. Cleaning up is impossible because the game never ends, you see. While we beg for her to do simple tasks like removing her shoes from the maple tree in the yard, she floats around in her own little world.
I was exactly the same at her age. I procrastinated and meandered about any job I was given. I could make raking the grass take three hours. Putting away my clothes, toys, dishes, or anything else I would start with determination but soon get side-tracked into an art project or story-telling session with my dolls.
I craved creative outlets so badly I could turn the most mundane task into a long, rambling adventure, much to my parents' chagrin. So while I am as frustrated with my daughter's behavior as my husband is, I understand it a little bit more. I can't really reassure him that things will change, though. Right now I'm sitting her blogging while the dishes sit, half-done in the sink. I was afraid that if I waited until I finished, the idea would be gone. I literally stopped mid-wash to run over here and start typing.
And so I know that my daughter's seemingly ever-changing focus is really extreme focus on one idea. An idea whose shape and outcome is still evolving. Although I can't visualize it, I still try to manage and direct it as best I can. Away from the TV and china, toward to muddy yard and wooden fence. I wish I could give her more tools to help her finish her idea. She keeps asking for hammers, nails, and wood. She'd also like a stage built in the yard (which is 20' x 20'). She would like a chemistry set with a real microscope and she would like a guitar. Yes, my dear, I say, I would, too.