We have a crew of “Ologists” at our house. Experts in dragons, fairies, Egypt, elves, pirates and so forth abound. Yesterday, for instance, there were very serious discussions about fairy bait as well as what temperature to keep a frost dragon’s egg. Do not make light of such matters or risk being scorned as one of the unbelievers and then blamed for the lack of magical creatures.
I try, really I do. Imagination is high of on our list of hopes for our children and they all seem to be doing quite well in that department (it is a common comment on many report cards coming home that our Ologists exhibit extraordinary imagination and creativity). But there are times when I falter. Like yesterday when I was trying to have a discussion as to why I would not let the sugar bowl go outside to be fairy bait in the newly constructed fairy house. “But Moooooom,” Moose whined, “Fairies like sugar, they won’t come without it.” I tried reasoning, “Yes, that may be so, but so do ants and wasps and you don’t want them in your fairy house, do you?” Ha, ha! How could he argue with that! “Well, maybe the ants and wasps are the fairies’ pets!” I gave up and gave him one pinch of sugar in a bottle cap and a jelly bean.
Now our four-year-old son Scoob is either truly imaginative or precocious (or I guess he could have magical sight) because he was ecstatically watching the fairy house and recounting their comings and goings—“Look there is one on my finger!” much to the chagrin of Moose (age six)—“Where??? Why can’t I see it? I believe in fairies!!!” Scoob smiled knowingly and continued to play happily with his new friends. The not-so-subtle-mother that I am tried a tactic to elicit work. “I don’t think fairies like this messy garden. Maybe they will come if we pick up all of this dead brush and leaves and take it over to the compost pile,” I said hopefully. Knowing in their heart-of-hearts I am no fairy expert they asked Arwen (14) who is trusted on such matters. I try to ally quickly, “Right, Arwen???” She gave a half-hearted “Sure, Mom,” which totally gave me away. Drat.
But there is something truly wonderful about a motivated child. What I see developing besides creativity is a love of learning. Being an Ologist means being a researcher and a studier. These children are amazing. Last year Cherish and Slim took to studying hieroglyphics. They spent hours on end last summer translating texts into hieroglyphics, writing each other notes, and quizzing each other in the car, (“What letter is a broken vase with a triangle in it? A squished lemon? Horizontal squiggly lines?) Arwen does not want to take Spanish, French, or German, “Why can’t I take Elvish?” she laments often, that she studies enthusiastically just for the love of it even though no one else speaks it. Slim has studied diligently for the past few months all of the Dragonology texts, completing all of the exercises to be an official Dragonologist. For as much work as he did he should have got college credit, (he has asked if there are college classes on dragons.) The site www.ologyworld.com is visited daily in this house. Moose is eagerly awaiting the Monsterology book due out later this year so he can be the Monster expert around here.
Having all of my resident experts is a wonderful blessing. I love their enthusiasm and we encourage them to find out answers for themselves rather just give our lame ideas. They all enjoy that process of searching for information, then they own that knowledge. So often now in our schools they teach to the test (but that is a whole other blog!), sometimes they catch the spirit of research and mastery in school, but often not. Our hope is this love of learning, this learning to learn, this passion and enthusiasm , as well as the creativity and imagination all continue with all of our children throughout their lives. Here is to being Thinkologists!
