This picture is proof that a second child changes you. With Parker, I remember being so dang clinical about everything. Art was done in a sterile environment. I would drape furniture and rugs with plastic before any potential mess could be made and a speck of paint on a location other than the paper would set my eye to twitching. So ridiculous, right? Ah well, you live and learn. With Lexi, I set her at a table with her paints and brushes, drape a smock over her, and let her go to town. While she’s painting quietly in her room, I have a chance to fold that 6th load of laundry, answer some emails, and look up recipes (because for some crazy reason, my family expects to be fed daily).
When I walked back into her room and saw that she turned herself into a living canvas, I laughed. She was so obviously enjoying herself, the paint was non-toxic, and I had just enjoyed an hour to myself. So, instead of hauling her off into the bath tub, I grabbed my camera to memorialize her art….and my growth as a parent.