Landscape and Poetry

Julia diligently continued her Native American landscape work this morning, adding people to the scene, and even giving them names:

Of course, I was commanded to name my favorite person, so I chose Musk Xs (pronounced Musk Ox), and then I was instructed to choose my second favorite, so I went for Ratlsnake.  What about you, viewers?  Who are your favorite Native Americans?

The creative crafts continued after school, as Julia and her friend, who came over for a play-date, composed poem books.  The two girls were teachers, and their faithful pupils (Madeleine and I), were told to sit on the rug so that we could listen to the poems and report upon what we heard.  Each teacher read the poem that she herself had written.

It seems that Teacher/Poet Julia has taken a turn towards the Sylvia Plath with this new poem:

"Criye" by Julia Rowe.  Aww.  That poor robot-armed person, criying face-down on the ground.

 

The poem: "I'm criyeing for you.  You broke my hurt.  What shod I do for you in my hurt?" 

Woah.  Heavy.  What does Julia even know about a broken hurt?  She's too young to have her hurt broken yet.  This is profound beyond her years, people.

After "school" was released for the day, the teachers got to work on a second poem collection, which was composed with furtive whispers and raucous giggles.  I was instructed NOT TO LOOK at what they were writing, and their suspicion was aroused any time I went near where they were working.

ME: (entering the dining room)
GIRLS: (squealing in panic) Don't look!  Don't looooook!
ME: (walking through and shielding my eyes) I'm not looking!
JULIA: (turning to her friend) She's not looking.  She would NEVER look!  She's and understanding, VALUABLE mom.

Yeah.  I sure am!

I finally got a chance to go to back school and hear the riotous poems, including this one:

"Crayola."


HILARIOUS.

And this one:

"I see a ppp."

JULIA: But it's okay because it's just the LETTER P.
Raucous laughter ensued.

Later on, during their third book, they dropped the pretense entirely:

Oh.  My.  God.
They were literally screaming with laughter while they tried to read this poem book, bouncing up and down on the couch, unable to keep their bums still in their elation over their funny poop and pee poems.

And here I always thought Julia would be one of those kids who is a good influence on her friends.
I guess all I have to say now is poop pa poop pa pee.