Forward into the Past

This week in the studio, I stepped forward into the past. Long before I had my own children, I took care of and taught little children in a local pre-school/daycare. 

I loved setting up the tables every morning with colorful toys, play dough and paints. Making wall art from their art. Setting up learning stations, reading corners, dress up and home areas. One day, I set up a long piece of butcher paper on the school patio with trays of paints and empty thread spools, small balls and sponges for the children to roll, toss, drop and splat with abandon. The mess was all easily sprayed away with the hose. The giggles were priceless. 

Teacher to mother to artist. 

When my own were born, I gave up my job as a creative in advertising to be a creative mom. And had the joy of setting up toys and paints and craypas for my own little children. I volunteered in their classrooms and taught art literacy. 

As their lives moved on, I moved onward too. I took classes and worked in watercolor, pastels, oils, copper and finally came back to clay which I did in high school. 

Around it goes again. 

I am so fortunate to be here for my grown children and their children. I love my Mondays with Meyer and now Cieran gets to come and play, too. I have a trunk of toys, a tiny kitchen, books, a dress up area and, of course, a storage cube filled with kid-friendly art supplies. 

Last week, we honored Eric Carle’s book, “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” again. This time, we made individual ornaments using Cieran’s toes for the caterpillar and a beautiful butterfly out of clay. These will all be fired and painted and ready in time for his one year birthday. 

Remembering the joy. 

This is what I so easily forget: the sheer joy of creating. The soft, squishiness of fresh clay. Colors flowing and mixing. Finding a new line. Adding a dot. Pressing a stamp, a piece of lace or hardware to make a new texture. 

Pressing the words into the wings of the new butterfly is a different kind of writing. It’s still a way to hear my soul speak. And especially now, to pass on those messages to my children and my children’s children. And to you, too. 

And hopefully, as we move forward from this time maybe the joys of the past can come with us in a new way.

Mondays with Meyer: Wonders, a Tantrum and a Nap.

For many people, Mondays mean a slog back to the work-a-day week. But I look forward to Monday. It’s the day when my world is enlightened by the view of life through a two-year old’s eyes.

It’s a life full of wonder. As we walk through the park, she runs to the curly slide. Climbs the shape wall. Jumps from one circle to the next. Then, she decides to walk instead of ride around the lake looking for geese, ducks and heron. When walking gets too tiring, she rides up the hill sipping on juice and nibbling on snacks. 

It’s also a life with large learning curves. 

Walking on her own through the park is a new, energizing freedom for her. But when she slides into a mud puddle and falls, it’s a nasty surprise. Climbing stairs are much easier now, but sometimes, trips happen. Toys fall over. Juice spills. A puzzle piece just won’t fit into place. 

“Ah,” I say, “I hear the sound of frustration.”

I let her know that we all feel angry and frustrated at times. No one likes to trip, fall or hurt themselves. Things break and spill. It’s ok. Messes happen all the time. So do tantrums.

So what can you or I do? Right now, I can pick her up, kiss it and try to make it better. I can wipe her tears and put a bandaid on her knee. Together, we can clean up the mess.  Sew a new nose on Kanga Mom. Work to figure out the puzzle and get those pieces to fit as best we can.

After a big morning of learning the hard way, it’s time for a nap. 

We have our ‘reading and rest time’. We don’t call it a nap, because she’s NOT sleepy. Sound familiar? It should. Because our society pushes us to work, run, produce, more and more everyday. So it’s understandable that we all forget the importance of rest time. 

I cherish our quiet time in the afternoon. I love sitting with her curled up on the blankets reading The Very Busy Year, Benjamin Bunny, The Little Mermaid and Winnie the Pooh. Lately, Winnie is  her favorite because she gets to be surrounded by the stuffed characters my now-grown children played with; Pooh, Eyore, Piglet, Rabbit, Owl, Kanga and little Roo. 

A little exercise, learning moments and a rest. 

Mondays with Meyer aren’t just a chance for me to teach her, they are teaching moments for me as well. Every week, I see the wonder around me and learn new things. And yes, life is full of drama, stress and mess. Sometimes, we all get cranky, too.  

And, as she will find out soon enough, isn’t always so easy to fix. 

But it’s not always the end of the world. And that’s the beginning of understanding. 

Mondays with Meyer: Answering A Big Life Question - Why?

Meyer wants to slide down the slide. She wants to paint and color. Squish play dough. Cook in her own kitchen. Read books and go for a walk. But lately, what she wants to know: why. 

“Let’s put on your coat now,” I say. 

Meyer asks, “Why?”

“Because it’s cold outside,” I say. 

Meyer asks, “Why?”

“Because it’s winter,” I say. 

Meyer asks, “Why?”

At this point, I point out that without a coat, she’ll be very uncomfortable and I want her to be warm and cozy. It’s then, the coat gets put on. 

When we get to the park, Meyer wants to slide right away. But she can’t.

“I want to slide,” Meyer says

“The slide is too wet,” I say. 

Meyer asks, “Why?”

“Because it rained last night,” I say. 

Meyer asks, “Why?”

“Because the rain got it all wet, so I have to dry it off before you can slide on it” I say. 

Meyer asks, “Why?”

I show her the towel I brought and as I dry off the slide, I explain that now she can slide on the slide without getting wet.  

This is another reason why I love two-year olds. They don’t take no for an answer and if they do, they want a really good reason. They want to know ‘why’, not because they want to be difficult. They want to know why so they can learn and understand the world around them. They want to be safe and healthy and secure. 

Why as adults don’t we ask that question more?

Think for a minute about what’s going on in our country, right now. Our politicians are being bought off by corporate interests. Our president is being investigated on fraud, conspiracy and corruption. Our country and corporations are only interested in the bottom line and lining their pockets leaving our children without equal education, health benefits and retirement security. Our children are being shot in their schoolrooms because there are no gun control laws. 

Why? Why? Why? And, oh my god, Why?

We’re told politicians are allowed to accept campaign donations from large corporations. Why?

We’re told our president knows nothing about these payments or meetings. Why?

We’re told our country and corporations have no budget for healthcare or education. Why?

We’re told gun control laws would defile our second amendment rights. WHY?

All over the world, small and large countries provide their people with healthcare, education through college. 

Why? 

Because  these politicians understand that people who are healthy work harder, live longer and keep their country healthy and thriving as well. And corporations pay their fair share of taxes that help to fund the present and future of their country and their own work force. 

In Japan, they have strict gun control laws. Any citizen who wants a gun can have one. There is a process to follow: gun education, gun safety training, gun background checks, gun registration and mandatory annual gun safety and license checks. 

If countries like England, Germany, France, Australia, China, Canada, Japan and more can provide healthcare, education, gun safety, anti-corruption laws, why can’t we?

Maybe we all need to learn a lesson from our two year olds. Don’t just accept life around us without asking the biggest question of life: why?

  

Mondays with Meyer: "I no like that."

This is my granddaughter's favorite phrase right now and I can't think of anything that typifies the two-year old better. It's a time for challenge and discovery and daring-do's. It's watching a human being emerge from it's chrysalis baby stage into a beautiful, caring, bold, adventurous little person. 

You can call me crazy, but I find two-year olds amazing. 

Yes, even when Meyer says no. Even when she climbs my furniture. Throws my throw pillows. Pokes my paintings. Picks my flowers and digs in the dirt. Ok, maybe I get a little scared when she grabs for the lamps or other breakable objects. So I 'toddler proof' my home when she is over to keep her safe. I plug outlets, gate stairs, lock cabinets and drawers. 

But I say yes to as much as possible, even when it makes a mess. Why? Because the job of a toddler is to learn about her world with her own bare hands. Whether it's smooshing play dough or stirring a pot of cold cereal, picking tomatoes, examining a leaf or making bubble pie with abandon. That goes for grown-up things, too. When she wants to touch something, as long as it's not dangerous, I say yes. She's touched bushes we pass on our walks, roses and orchids, sculptures, ceramics, paintings and masks. She loves to smell the different soaps and herbs, too.  

Everything is done with energy and zest for living.

Eating, walking, talking, running and, yes, even napping is done by diving in. That does make life a challenge for both of us. She wants to take risks and I want her to stretch her wings but she needs my protection. I am always there for her.

But sometimes, I have to let her go. I, quite literally, have to put her down, give her a kiss and say, go play. And sometimes, she looks at me and says, "I no like that."

She waits for me then, to get mad, to push, to prod, to bargain with her. I don't. Because I know she is not being bad or trying to make me mad, she's learning about the power of attention, intention and limits. So sometimes, she will try something wild. Or she will scream or cry or throw a tantrum. 

And many times, I have to keep myself from laughing. 

I have to remember, she wants limits to feel safe but she has to push limits to grow. I have to let her know I love her even when she's mad or sad or tired or dirty or makes a mistake. I have to let her try out her world and be ready to catch her before she falls. 

Or when she does fall down, I kiss it and make it better knowing that is when, "I no like that."