These are my two babies . . . when they were still babies. It’s one of my favorite pictures. I remember this being a challenging trip. We were down in Atlanta to see friends and my husband got sick and had to go to Urgent care in the middle of the night. And this was them at the hotel before bed. They were both eager for those bottles and then just sat there sucking on them waiting for my next move. Just staring. So many expectations or just wonder I guess.
What’s next mom? What’s next on the agenda? What exciting thing will you entertain us with next? What are we going to have for dinner mom? Who’s going to come over for playdate mom?
The list goes on.
When I was a kid, we found our own playmates down the street and only sometimes did my mom formally arrange them. But sadly, a lot of that part of America is history. I look down the street and rarely see kids out at play.
This photo. When I look at it, I see the little expectations again and I see two innocent and helpless
little human’s I am in charge of taking care of. Nourishing them. Teaching them everything. Comforting them when they are upset and helping them build their confidence. Helping them to build their own confidence as they learn to do things for themselves, and become quite stubborn in insisting to do it themselves. And then after all those seemingly never-ending small expectations. Filling a bottle, then a sippy cup, then one day they stop asking you and get it for themselves. And little by little they grow up.
They take pride in their accomplishments and suddenly develop expectations of themselves. My 4-year-old would barely sit down to finish a coloring page or a drawing, then suddenly overnight it seems he has been sitting and patiently coloring and drawing pictures constantly. And I love this because not only is he developing his creativity but learning to express himself in a healthy manner. Emotions of love or stress and frustration can come out in his drawings and it helps me to see more of what he is going through and open up a door of conversation on the topic.
I have also noticed he gets too hard on himself. Perhaps that is the artist’s blood in him, from our family of artists that expect a little too much of themselves. But how else do you grow if you never push yourself? Anyway, we are learning that it is ok to color outside the lines sometimes.
Have a little artist in the house with the abundance of sweet little creations? Here are some great tips for organizing all that artwork.