You know, I am ashamed of myself and taken aback by something I have learned just reading your post.
When my toddler makes messes, I get mad at her. I fail to see the child-like beauty that comes from her little genius mind....I don't even see it that way when it happens. For someone who claims to think outside the box, living a creative life, I am a mommy who has been way too anal about how clean that damn Box is.
My poor little Devil....I am so mean to her when she creates masterpieces, and I have the nerve to call them "messes" and "yucky" and "Why-did-you-do-that?s". I feel just awful. And I wonder why she acts out at me.
Too peppery pork chop bits swirled in a cup of water.
Cereal milk dribbled on the table and spread around with finger-painting smears and a complimentary splash on the floor.
Raisins spread out in a perfect copy of a fireworks blast, even some stuck down in the seam of the plastic picnic table that she sits at...what detail.
I've decided not to yell or ask her why she did that or grunt Marge Simpson grumbles, or hiss "GOD!" when I have to clean these things up.
The only hard part is not resenting the fact that even if I do concede to consider them works of art, I still have to do the dirty work after the fact. I can't imagine my husband coming home to sticky-milk-floor, raisin confetti and cloudy water and hearing me say "It's Art."
Mess-terpieces.
I yell about these little wonders all day long too. When I get in bed at night I feel so bad I yelled all day long.
ReplyDeleteMotherhood is for the birds!
and BTW, I don't know your email address, but if you are making goodies, I am giving you my address! :)
lol.. 'messterpieces'.. I like that.
ReplyDeleteand she's big enough now that she can most certainly help clean up her 'art'. ;) if, that is, you can get over 'how she does it'. lol..
I will get you that email addy, Sandi.
ReplyDeleteWell, she did get a broom for christmas...AND I'm sending her ass to dance class. I have a friend who is a dance teacher. :)
It takes the Right kind of eyes to see the magic of children.
ReplyDeleteAnd a Mop.
And soap. Lots and Lots of soap.
And. Patience.
And it helps that a Caravan of Gypsies never parades down the street, because Sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes......I'd pay 'em to take both.
hi. Teri.
Not to be the bearer of bad news, but the messes don't decrease as the chld ages.. They just get more inventive.. The other night, I was treated to a re-enactment of a scene from the Miracle Worker (b/w version) where Helen Keller, as a child and before the intervention of Annie Sullivan, was trying to feed herself.. Of course, I wasn't in the room where this took place, I walked in post performance.. To peas and corn scattered all over the table.. Her father thought it was a very good performance.. And no, he didn't offer to stop her or clean it up.. She was impressed with herself as well, until she had to clean it up.. And failed to understand why I didn't think it was the most clever thing that she did!!!
ReplyDeleteACK!
ReplyDeletei have the same struggle, with my little 5yo artiste... my life is comprised of carpet confetti'd with crayon wrapper bits, magic marker mustaches, confiscated swords, milk-spilled treasure maps and mommy i'm sorry's.
ReplyDeletehi.