Something I Forgot

When one boy comes in crying because the other one is a cheater, inconsolable because “I told him a hundred times not to hold the stick like that,” it’s time to pull out the art supplies.

How had I forgotten that?

It was playdough when they were younger, then glitter and glue, then charcoal pencils. Something special.

Today it was paint.  Nice paint.  The kind you put on a palette and mix with your brush. And beautiful sketchbooks.  And a clean kitchen.  And separate glasses for everyone, so no one had to share water.

Peace.  And joy.  And art.  For the better part of an hour.

When I commented on Ezra’s beautiful abstract painting, he said, “Yeah, I do all of mine abstract.  That way you can’t make any mistakes.”

Leaving aside his understanding of abstract art, how wonderful it is to spend the better part of the hour mistake-free.

Remember how earlier this week I wrote that blogs seemed to develop a theme on their own?  And that a week’s worth of blogs seemed to do the same? Well, there it is. Longing for a mistake-free hour.  No one hitting or hurting.  No one forgetting to put the Kool-Aid mix in the Kool-Aid.  No one hoarding the bagels for themselves.  That longing was our theme this week.

Until Ezra reminded me, I had forgotten how strong that longing is.  Strong in both me and the boys.

We should paint more often.