The kids got an easel for Christmas from their grandparents. It sits in our living room, by the sliding door, where there's light and a parking lot full of inspiration. Paige finds her way over to the chalk board quite often to scribble. Bit circles and loops and dreams. Fynn finds his way over now and then and draws lines and angular circles and trains.
I asked him today if he wanted to draw his animals. The lovies he carries around, that change by the day. Today it's a teddy bear, yesterday was a purple hippopotamus and yellow elephant.
He said "huh?" (which he's started saying after we ask him anything... I have NO idea where he got that one from... oops... ) and then he said he didn't know how to draw them. Folded his arms and stood there looking at me like it was as crazy of an idea as eating vegetables.
To that I said "huh?" (yup, still clueless as to where my son picked it up... ) and I asked if he wanted to learn how. He did. So we sat together and drew circles for heads and ovals for bodies and lines for arms and legs. And eyes. And smiles.
We set limits and rules and boundaries. We teach ABC's and 123's, how to brush teeth and manners, how to throw and kick balls. Even those of us who appreciate creativity and art and beauty in the small things forget that they need to be taught as well. Nurtured and not assumed.
And it took moments. Huh. Imagine that.
