It is not that I don’t want my children to be creative; I just get so frustrated because rather than being happy when they are inspired I can’t help but think that they are simply wasting my office supplies.

I always considered myself pretty creative and I married an artist so I expected our kids to be creative. My stepdaughter is a true artist from creative writing to being able to design and sew costumes by hand. My older son, Paul, has been drawing since he could grasp a crayon and I have the marks on the walls to prove it.

So now watching my five-year-old son, Eric, create more mess than anything else it is hard not to wince. I love watching him when he is absorbed in anything that does not require my help. The problem is I can’t just watch. It is not enough to micromanage how he plays from rationing his glue to reorganizing his markers for him. I want to push him aside and do it for him.

I have come to see that there is a fine line between my kids’ art and recycling, and it is often a tough call. I try to give every project a certain amount of positive feedback even if all I can praise is their effort and intent. It is easier to forgive a certain amount of hardening glue when the artist is beaming with pride. But mostly, I either have to leave the room or sit on my hands to keep from taking over. I try to wait until they are at school to weed out the projects heading for the recycling. Once Eric saw me do this and that Tuesday when the recycling truck lumbered away he piped up: “There go your drawings Paul!”

Now when I come home to find lots of unidentifiable drawings decorating the walls. I announce, “How beautiful!”

What I think to myself is: “Wow that’s a lot of tape.”

By Cathy Burke

Labels: Cathy Burke

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