Every once in a while, in a fit of insanity disguised as active mothering, I decide to bust out the fingerpaints. Clara loves to do any kind of painting, and Jonathan seems to have a vested interest in testing the validity of "non-toxic" claims on all art supplies.
For our most recent project, I cut up some sponges and told them they were painting clouds. Both of them started out with very delicate dabs, but by the end their papers were basically just saturated blue blobs. And for Jonathan's final stroke of artistic experimentation, he dipped a stubby finger into a big pile of paint and licked it clean. I overreacted ("Oh! That's disgusting! Stop!"), then he promptly stuck his tongue out for me to wipe off. I cleaned him up (which is surprisingly difficult with even allegedly "washable" paints; my kids' hands are regularly tinted), then walked into where Jeremy was working, fretting, "So when they say 'non-toxic' they mean that, right? Don't you think? He's okay, right?" If you know Jeremy, it may not surprise you to learn that he thought I was crazy. He may have even rolled his eyes--just a little, of course. Whatevs.
The things we suffer for our art.
2 comments:
I love your "insanity disguised as active mothering". I feel the exact same way, every time my kids beg me to do a craft I always wish I had a garage-type room that had a hose so I could just clean things up that way (including my darling ones). I also have had to have major faith that "non-toxic" means just that.
That how my kids' art looks by the time they are done - the paper is completely saturated with paint and falling apart and soaking wet. Consequently, we don't get to keep many of these gems...
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