How History is Made
When I was three years old, my mother started keeping a journal for me. At night, she'd come into my room with a book and a pen and ask me what I did that day and write down my response verbatim. That journal she kept for me is one of my most precious mementos of childhood. I told stories about playing with my siblings, snuggling with my dad and other sweet moments.
With hopes of continuing this tradition with my own three year old, last week I started a journal for Pixie. It hasn't gone as smoothly as I'd hoped. First of all, almost everything she tells me to write down are blatant lies. In all her daily recaps, somehow going to the park with Dad and eating pancakes at McDonald's are worked in, regardless of what we really did. On the one hand I wish she'd be a little more true to the real story but on the other hand, when she looks back at these journals as an adult, she might really think that she spent everyday at the park Dad rather than the reality of spending half the day in Time Out.
This is tonight's entry:
With hopes of continuing this tradition with my own three year old, last week I started a journal for Pixie. It hasn't gone as smoothly as I'd hoped. First of all, almost everything she tells me to write down are blatant lies. In all her daily recaps, somehow going to the park with Dad and eating pancakes at McDonald's are worked in, regardless of what we really did. On the one hand I wish she'd be a little more true to the real story but on the other hand, when she looks back at these journals as an adult, she might really think that she spent everyday at the park Dad rather than the reality of spending half the day in Time Out.
This is tonight's entry:
I went to preschool. I love Cher. I want to write "spagetti" in my journal. I want to write "poop" in my journal. Did you write "poop" in my journal? Good! Now "pee" in my journal. I went to the mirror. I went and took off my eyes so I couldn't see and I went to the park. That's all I did.Somehow this isn't turning into the tender record keeping that I thought it would be, but I'm hoping she'll still get a good laugh out of it as an adult. It does make me wonder about the journal my mother wrote for me as a child. Ninety nine percent of what Pixie reports in her journal are lies. There's a pretty good chance that mine were as well. But at this stage, it doesn't matter. In my opinion, a child's perception of their life is far more important than the realities. I can't wait to see what you do tomorrow, Pixie!
Comments
"Sarah, remember how I used to read to you, every night for hours, right after an hour of family scripture study, every single night for the last three years?"
"I don't remember that Mommy."
"Think hard."
Genius.
Perhaps you could put her "creative entries" in a different color.
My mom used to do something similar for us. We didn't have a camcorder, so she'd record us talking on cassette tapes. She'd tape us reciting our primary talks, singing songs we'd learned in preschool, talking about what sorts of things we liked to do, etc. The occasional tantrum would also get recorded for history. I have to say: it is SO FUN to listen to those tapes! They are hilarious. What memories!
I still have a book my oldest son made when he was small for his best friend Rachel. He *loved* that girl. She moved away.
Now lets hear some excerpts from the one your mom wrote for you.
You can always write a little disclaimer at the end like, "For the record, we didn't actually go to McD's or park today."
I think what you're doing is great. She'll be so grateful to you later. Priceless memories!
"I looked outside the window and saw whiteness all over and that was snow and it was wintertime. My Dad says "not bad." I decorated up my toy box and my Dad came in and said "not bad" again...Well, sometimes me and Dad go out on a date and no one else goes with us. And sometimes I make a popping noise with my tongue and the bottom of my mouth. When I stand on my head it makes me very hurty and I look like a capital "I." ..."
And on and on. Pretty silly stuff.
However...one would have rattled on and I'd have been writing till midnight and the other one wouldn't have said a word. Oh well.
I can totally foresee similar entries from my "creative" girl. My oldest son would probably hve more realistic entries.
this is (obviously) a good idea. and i like that their perception of reality is even more telling of what their childhood is like than the reality. if they were lying about eating and stuff, you might wonder if they really were starving. or something.
we helped our 7 yr old start a blog (she uses a pseudonym and won't ever mention our location). the catch is she has to do the writing -- we won't transcribe, though we do spell things out, sometimes.
she gets practice writing, and journaling, and when grandma or auntie comments, it's awesome.
(I had to come over when Nikki mentioned this great post.)
KEEP BELLIEVING