Art

Today Ro made art with four other toddlers. We had washable paint with brushes and sponges, washable markers, washable crayons, glitter, and chalk. I might have been a bit overzealous in guarding against mess - I covered the floor, walls, and sofa in plastic sheeting. It looked more like we were fumigating the apartment than hosting an art class.

Everyone was curious about the plastic sheeting. Roan quickly figured out how to rip holes in it and tear it into little bite sized pieces. Taj sprinted across it, slipping and nearly falling over and over and again. Somebody else pulled it off the wall and it floated to the floor gracefully - the largest and most glorious suffocation hazard I've ever seen.

Once I got rid of the plastic sheeting, the kids finally paid attention to the paint. I put everything on a big foam mat and for the most part, the art stayed put. No one ran wild around the room, streaking the walls with marker. And best of all, the washable stuff really did wash off!

Our fridge has some new paintings, and Roan is passed out taking a monster nap (which he never does for me).The clean up took half an hour, and during that time I reflected on the sad fact that Roan will never remember this day. I often have this thought while cleaning up. If no one remembers early childhood, what is the point of all these activities that result in all this damn cleaning? I think of early childhood like a drug fueled weekend - the details are hazy, but you have a general impression of whether you enjoyed yourself or not.

If every day is rated and filed away with a thousand other days in some remote fold of a toddler's brain, only to be dredged up years later during a light bulb moment on some therapist's couch, well, I'd like to think that today we scored one tiny point for "happy childhood." If so, I guess the clean up was worth it.