Magical Miss M

The tagline of this blog is “writer at play”, but my attitude towards my literary endeavors is more akin to steely-eyed clenched-teeth fortitude these days. I was eyeball-deep in one set of revisions for a couple months; I have since waded into yet another novel revision. While revisions do have their moments of mountain-high elation, I’ve missed just being playful with the writing and storytelling process.

So, to rectify this, I propose to post some kind of fun (playful!) creative exercise every week or so, if only to get my own juices flowing. This week’s exercise is a new magical system, inspired by Miss M.

Miss M., like other three year old girls, loves to dress up. Her base outfit may look something like this: a pink and brown striped and dotted dress (she LOVES dresses), tights with large polka dots (orange being the dominant color), and over that, bright green pants with a large floral pattern. She proceeds to embellish this outfit with any or all of the following: pink socks, ballet slippers, a fairy princess costume, a hat from Africa, mittens, apron, chef’s hat, tiara, plastic rings, beaded necklace, jingle bell bracelet, assorted pieces of winter gear. She isn’t above snitching her father’s comfy slippers, either.

One day, while watching Miss M dance around completely oblivious to the fashion horror sight she presented, I was struck by an idea for a new magical system. What if, said Right Brain, there existed a society in which magical spells were woven into articles of clothing? And the only way to utilize those spells would be to actually wear them? (Or is it the other way around? You could only use spells that were in contact with your skin, so that’s why you put them into clothes in the first place).

First and furious, other ideas and implications came pouring in:

The spells are closely tied to the physical aspect of the clothing. Type of fabric, dye, pattern, cut, embroidery–all played a big part. In order to modify a spell, you can add embroidery, put on a button, take off an inch of hem.

In order to maximize the number of spells available to you, you would try to wear as many clothes as you could. This society would have to live in a cold climate. Otherwise, it might be too hot and uncomfortable to be a magic-user!

Spelled clothing would be passed down through many generations–the bodice of Great-Grandma’s wedding dress could end up in Romilda’s coming-out gown, or as part of Uncle Abernathy’s vest. Magical items would be concentrated in the hands of families, rather than individuals.

Every magic-user (male or female) would strive to be a very good tailor!

The rich would have an advantage in being able to afford better quality materials.

Ballrooms would become the battlegrounds. Armor would be fans, jewelry, vests, shoes.

Imagine, the Underthings of Invincibilty. Ha!

And, best of all, people would match their clothing, not in terms of color or style, but with an eye to complementing magical power. So, why not wear a chef’s hat on top of a tiara, or mismatched mittens?

Your turn! Have you read or come up with any unusual magic systems (allomancy in Brandon Sanderson’s Mistborn springs instantly to mind)?

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a humorous aside

It occurs to me that my last post may have come across as crotchety and Scrooge-like. Don’t get me wrong: Christmas is my favorite holiday and I love this time of year. I just came out of a fun but social weekend and my Inner Introvert is gibbering in one corner of my head.

So, I give you a humorous incident:

You know how some moms are able to take common recyclable items and they and their equally artistic children make lovely crafts out of them?

Well, I apparently do not number amongst them.

The kids and I worked on tissue paper angels this evening:

Kids: Oooh, ghosts!

Me: These are not ghosts. These are angels. Look. They have halos and wings and everything.

Everyone works on their crafts for a few more minutes.

Me: Okay, you’re right. These do look like ghosts.

Kids:Yay! Christmas ghosts! *fly them through the air* Whoo-ooooo-oooo!

Miss M.: I want mine to have arms and feet and hair.

So we spent the next ten minutes hot-gluing pipecleaner limbs and ribbon hair to Miss M.’s ghost/angel/thing.

We can pretend that we just read A Christmas Carol. Should I have made some pipecleaner chains as well?

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going zany for zebras

Back when we were studying the African savanna, the kids and I spent a morning making these cute zebras:

zebras

I printed off a zebra coloring page to use as a template and cut out zebra shapes from black and white construction paper. The kids put on masking tape and paper strips for stripes. We also dipped marbles in white and black paint and rolled them all over the zebras for a funky abstract look. Also, check out this 2-D craft stick zebra Sir I. made last year.

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Picture Books: Exploring Down Under

dot painting

(Artwork inspired by aboriginal dot paintings by Miss M and Sir I)

Wombat Stew by Marcia K. Vaughan and Pamela Lofts: One day, a very clever dingo catches a wombat and sets about making wombat stew, with a little help from the other animals. Fear not for the wombat, though! My kids loved this one and went around singing, “Wombat stew! Wombat stew! Gooey chewy, crunchy munchy, for my lunchy, WOMBAT STEW!” for days after.

Diary of a Wombat by Jackie French: This was a birthday present for Sir I from my Aussie writing buddy Jo. Features a sleeping-all-day back-scratching carrot-devouring hole-digging wombat who trains humans to feed her on demand. Very entertaining.

The Biggest Frog in Australia by Susan Roth: In the Dreamtime, the biggest frog in Australia wakes up very thirsty. He drinks up all the puddles, the billabongs (I added this new word to my vocabulary and I’ve been itching to use it ever since!), the rivers, the lakes, even the rain in the clouds. Now the frog is huge and swollen,  the land is dry and parched, and the other animals are suffering. They need to get all the water out of the frog, but how?

Bilby Moon by Margaret Spurling: A bilby is enthralled by her first sight of the full moon, smiling down at her. Her joy turns to distress on subsequent nights as the moon starts losing pieces of itself. She enlists the help of other desert animals to find the lost pieces, becoming sadder as the moon grows thinner and finally disappears. Then an owl tells her not to worry–she’ll be surprised again the following night when the moon comes back. A charming, reassuring story.

Stories from the Billabong by James Vance Marshall:  This collection of aboriginal stories from the Dreamtime has lovely dot painiting-inspired illustrations. Not all the tales are appropriate for my kids’ ages, so I picked only a handful of them to read aloud (usually the animal ones). We all enjoyed “How the Kangaroo got her Pouch”.

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ooh, shiny

foil art

This open-ended and process-oriented project was a huge hit with my older two. I mixed up equal parts of white glue and water and gave each child a piece of aluminum foil and lots of cut-up tissue paper. The kids spread the glue all over the foil (shiny side up!) and stuck on the tissue paper. They covered the first layer with more glue and added more tissue paper. Sir I. really got into the layering; he must have created four or five of them. Miss M. skipped ahead to the last step, which was to sprinkle glitter and sequins (and other shiny things) on the last layer of glue.

I love how, even using the same process, the kids’ projects turned out so different and beautiful. I can see this technique being used for other crafts. Foil-and-tissue birds, with feathers glued on the last layer. Fish with sequins for scales. Butterflies. Pretty wrapping paper.

I couldn’t resist the lure of shiny things and made one, too. I forgot to take a picture of it, but it was also glittery and colorful.

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coral reef

coral reef

This is the coral reef the kids and I made a few weeks ago. The coral is made from salt dough, which we shaped (check out the brain coral I made. It’s the one that, funnily enough, looks like a brain), dried and painted. Then we set about creating inhabitants for our reef.  The cupcake liners are giant clams; the egg cartons with bits of ribbon around the top are sea anemones; the cotton balls with pipe cleaners sticking out of them are sea urchins; the smiley-faced skinny ovals are fish and those vaguely star-shaped objects on the left are indeed, starfish. Oh, and the cut-up pink sponges pieces are *gasp!* sponges.

It certainly turned out to be a very colorful and crowded project!

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a day in the life

What? I need a reason?

At the outlet mall yesterday:

Me: And after the kitchen store, we can hit the bookstore!

D: *eyes suspiciously* Do you NEED anything from the bookstore?

Me: Noooooo

D: Then why go in?

Me: Because it’s there, of course! (Silly!)

D: Not buying that. Get thee to a clothing store and buy yourself some jeans.

So, like a good little girl, I trotted off to the clothing stores. It only took me ten or so tries to find a pair of jeans that were neither too loose nor too long.

D.  thinks I should shop in the Juniors section. I told him that, as an almost-thirty-year-old woman with three kids, I have a moral opposition to doing that.

However, the next day…

I went to Borders with a 40% off coupon, and went on a book-buying binge. Ha!

Developmental Milestones, the Trampoline Version

The Baron: *butt-scoots over to the trampoline* *pulls up on it*

Me: Awww, good going, baby!

Baron: *clambers on to the trampoline” *sits there, bouncing gently*

Me: Erm… Not quite what I expected you to do.

Baron: *scoots across the trampoline to the window* *pulls up on sill* *stands there, peering over the sill, bouncing gently* I’m King of the World!

Me: All right, Your Majesty. Your moment of living dangerously ends now.

The Little Dictator

D: *does something Baron doesn’t like*

Baron: *FUSS fussfussFUSS*

D: *stops doing whatever it was that Baron doesn’t like*

Sir I: Baron rules Daddy with an iron fist.

No, really. The almost-five-year-old actually said that. And no, I don’t know where he came up with it.

The Difference Between Boys and Girls

When Sir I. was a preschooler, he would build towers and knock them down, have his dinosaur do things like, “Stomp, stomp! Eat people!”, and send his lego planes zooming and crashing all over the place.

When Miss M. builds lego planes, she builds a Daddy Plane, a Mommy Plane and a Baby Plane. Baby Plane gets a ride on Mommy Plane because “he can’t not know how to fly yet”.

and, bad practice techniques

I, um, did something to my right arm by playing too much piano. It had limited movement all day yesterday, but the twinges are almost gone now. Lesson learned. Check for proper posture and position *before* playing for a long time.

How’s your weekend?

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arrival of the torsos

Er, that sounds like the title of a B horror movie, doesn’t it? But, here, let me show you what I really mean:

See those people at the bottom? They have bodies! I’ve been watching Sir I. transition from “tadpole” people (the ones with legs and arms sticking out of their heads) to torso-endowed people all summer. He’s gone back and forth between the two types, but looking at his recent artwork, I think the torsos are here to stay.

Miss M. is largely focusing on circles: big and small ones for puppy-dog faces, oval-ish shapes for puppy-dog ears, spirals and sunbursts. That’s her smiley sun at the top of the picture.

The Baron is not yet producing art, though he did scribble on the floor with a pencil once. Today he tried to eat a crayon and “helped” Miss M. with a picture by drawing on her paper with a Tinkertoy rod. Better luck next time, baby boy!

One of the privileges of motherhood is witnessing the incredible developmemtal leaps that all young children make. Leaps in cognition, verbal skills, hand-eye coordination, art processes, fine and gross motor skills. What an amazing and awesome thing the human brain is!

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making their mark

A week ago, Sir I. was flipping through a book about the human body (he’d wanted to see what he looked like “on the inside”) and came across a handprint cast project. “We have to do this, Mom!” he said, waving the book at me. Of course I couldn’t say no in the face of such initiative and enthusiasm. Some sticky salt dough, lots of spilled flour and four hours in the oven later, we had these:

I love these handprints, souvenirs of an age where everything is fresh and vivid, when even the smallest tasks are full of adventure and excitement and possibility.

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Picture Books: Mapping

Sir I. loves maps. World maps, treasure maps, road maps, atlases and globes. I got a kick out of his commentary on our road atlas yesterday in the van: “Wow, look, I found Florida! And the north part of Kentucky!” (Yes, this kid managed to decode the world Kentucky all by himself, too). Half a year ago, we did a unit study on maps and unearthed some great material on the subject.

Me on the Map by Joan Sweeney: This is an awesome first resource for mapping. The concept is simple: the girl draws herself in a map of her room, then her room in her house, her house on her street, and all the way out to her country on the globe. After we read this, we drew maps of various rooms in our house, found our town in our state, our state in our country, and so on, just like the girl did.

The Once Upon a Time Map Book by B.G. Henessey and Peter Joyce: More advanced–including grids, keys and legends, but the fairy tale maps are enchanting and detailed. My only complaint is that the maps are crowded, and it can be hard for little eyes to find things. And also, it’s out of print. Boo.

Which Way to the Revolution? by Bob Banner: Fun! Follow Paul Revere from Boston to Lexington, accompanied by friendly mice and thwarted by evil rats. Appealing simple maps and easy introduction to landmarks, map symbols and the compass rose. Sir I. loved it so much he requested I get it again from the library.

More on maps, for grown-ups too:

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