The bane of a crafty mother; imposing your trade, hobby, passion for, onto others.  Particularly your children.  I coax Miles into many a projects and more often than not I find myself being short of a stellar mother.  I tend to hover.  At times I instruct.  I don’t mean guide, I am talking full on direct instruction.  Pretty much the opposite of what I believe in as a Mama.  As a teacher.  As a fellow human.  But for some odd reason, it pains me to watch such misuse of glue or other ridiculously inepensive cheap art supplies.  I fight against empty space on a page.  I urge (With a stern voice.  Really a stern voice? During craft time? Fun, craft time?) for him to use the scissors just like I do.

While the waldorf-ian in me does want to impress upon him the proper way to hold a crayon, brush a stroke, or draw say… a horse (or a tree, pretty much the two things Miles consistently wants to draw), the other half of me is tempted to just walk away and see what happens.  Back off mama.

So yesterday, I did just this.  And you know what?  There was no massive mess.  Glue was not all over his hair.  General chaos did not occur.  Just a little fun.  Fun without his hounding mama leaning over his shoulder showing him the “right” way to do it.

It was much more enjoyable for me as well.  After a few minutes of just hiding in the kitchen making vanilla custards (so good…) unable to even view the possible desecration of the elmers, I ventured back and I delightfully laid my eyes on this:

A cut up poster that had seen better days and the canvas that wouldn’t die.  It has been used for three projects in total.  Now, it has found its resting place on a wall in our kitchen.

And just because its beautiful.  The perfect place for a tire swing I believe.