Giving Kids Creative License

I have a couple of creative types in my house.

Big Sister E is a true creative spirit turning anything into something. Tonight she interrupted my workout to let me know she could make water change color just by saying a magic word. What she'd done was paint the outside of a can, then gave her brother the job of turning on the water and plugging the drain while she ran the painted can under water. Voila! Purple water. Creative. Capital C.

Little Brother C is creative in the "I'm going to find a way to tinker with this to get it to do what I want" kind of way. Last week he was up on the playset with a jump rope and laundry basket. He came in asking for carrots. His plan? A bunny trap. Set the carrots on the ground, hide in the playset, attach the basket to the jump rope and lower it (silently) onto the unsuspecting rabbit as it noshed on the carrot buffet.

When these to minds get together, watch out world, something special is coming.

Recently I've been thinking about how much time I spend entertaining my kids. And the verdict? Well, not so much. Some may say I'm a lazy parent for not engaging in a multitude of activities with my kids. My response? I don't think they need it! Sure, they ask me to play tag, draw a picture, play a game, read a book, and the usual gamut of kid-type requests, and most often I am good with that. But sometimes, "I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request". (Thank you, Pirates of the Caribbean.) And they usually deal with it just fine. Most often, they don't ask for much in the Requires Entertainment department. They like to just make things up and accessorize with all of their stuff. Common activities include "Fluffy Fluff" (he's a puppy, she's the owner), picture-making and building bird-watching huts.

A few days ago they asked to play on the front steps. Not my first choice for a play location, but since I was in the general vicinity and could offer sufficient supervision I gave them the go-ahead. When I went outside to check on them this is what I found...

 Yup, you guessed it. That's a roly-poly house, ya'll! Complete with a play area and dandelion accents!

Dad gets in on the creativity action much more often than I do. He seems to have that extra store of energy specifically for entertaining kids that I just don't have in the evening. Barbies were the activity of choice this night and boy did those boys have fun!

Let me assure you, it was very manly fun. Full of battles and motorcycles and stunts!

He even made them an authentic pirate treasure chest, complete with false bottom for hiding treasure. Last summer they decided on their pirate names. This year Captain One Sock and Captain Butterfly are even more authentic.


Rainy days? They wanted to go play on a rainy Saturday a week or so ago. "Why not?" became my philosophy for the moment and I let them go...




And they had a great time! I didn't ever ask the thought-process behind taking the toy box lid, Hotwheels storage box, bandana and straw hat outside, but this is what they came up with...

a ship?
a pirate ship?
a pirate ship with bad guys and the cracken ready to attack?

Your guess is as good as mine, my friend. As good as mine.

This one. She gets all sorts of silly sometimes. Rain, bubbles and alone time and she's golden, let me tell you! She was singing and dancing and blowing bubbles and having a grand old time! 

What's the point of all this rambling? Well, I've noticed that sometimes kids don't need constant entertainment. No TV, no electronic games, no planned activities. Just time to play. Be creative. It seems that many of my friends that fall into my decade for age had similar experiences as children. We were allowed to make our own fun. Play in the dirt, splash in the puddles, imagine new worlds and pretend we were anything we wanted to be. Swings were rocket ships. Laundry baskets were bunny traps.

This last New Year's Eve we celebrated with a few other couples and all the accompanying offspring. Instead of planning out their evening's activities down to the minute, we let them enjoy each others company. There was a school full of students and teachers. Games of basketball and tag. Screaming, giggling, fighting and fun. Random, spontaneous, creative and imaginative fun. And they loved every second.

With the decline of importance being placed on the arts in our school systems I find it to be more necessary than ever to encourage authentic creativity at home. I'm so thankful E goes to a school where art and music are valued. Where theater club starts at grade four. Where creative licenses are issued to students on a daily basis. 

Last month I decided to undertake a major project in our storage room. I'm creating an art room for E to feel free to create as she pleases. While progress has been slow recently I know that once summer arrives I'll have the time to dedicate and the help I need from her to get it completed to her liking. A place for her. A room of her own with paints and crayons and markers and glue. Glitter and paper and stickers. Music and floors to spill on guilt-free. Walls to display her work and be proud of her accomplishments. 

I want to encourage the kids to put their creative licenses to full use. To realize their full potential and not be afraid of judgement by the outside world. To create and share and be authentic. To know that their original ideas are valued. 

My challenge to you is to turn off the tv, the electronics, the planned activities and encourage your kids to make their own fun for a week. I know that when summer break arrives my kids won't be able to get the back door open fast enough each morning to launch themselves straight into their own world. A world of endless possibilities limited only by their boundless imaginations. 

How will you encourage your child's use of his or her creative license?

The Friendship of a Lifetime

Seems to me that the term "friend" has come to be used pretty loosely lately. What happened to acquaintances and coworkers? Just because you know someone's name and see them regularly at functions and events does that make you "friends"?

I spent the evening last night with my best friend, just doing what we do. She's been my constant since we were old enough to play in a playpen, ride in a wagon, bathe in a bathtub and toddle through the grass together. We rode bikes, played school, made mud pies and dug in the sand together. When her dad said, "you dig the hole, I'll make it into a pool" we got out the shovels and started digging together. There might still be a 5'x3'x2' hole out behind the tree line of their old house, just waiting for kids to come back and make it big enough to give it life as a pool.

We went to school together... all the way through college. We've been through marriages, divorces, moves, more moves, new marriages and babies together. My kids call her "Auntie Erin" and it fits. It's appropriate. She's been by my side for all of life, even when there's a distance of several hundred miles between us. While we've had distance in the way of miles, the distance between our hearts has seldom been measurable.

We aren't and weren't the do-everything-together-always type of friends though. Our early years were spent physically close and built a bond that can never be broken. During the school years we attended different schools, but still maintained the bond with the distance of only our driveways separating our homes. High school took us down different roads, but they always merged at several points along the way. She was an athlete, I cheered her on. We shared an extreme dislike for track and enjoyed an empty school each week during track season. We worked together full-time during the summers and after school during the school year as activities allowed. We were connected the way small-town kids are. You couldn't really avoid anyone, even if you tried.

With all this close-quarters and connectedness you'd think there would have been fights. Catty, selfish, drama-filled fights. Nope. We've only had one fight during our 37 year relationship. ONE. Single. A disagreement over something trivial and ridiculous in the elementary-school years. The fight lasted at least a full 24 hours. I'm sure. I'm pretty sure an invitation to go on a bike ride down the dusty dirt roads ended that spat.

It occurred to me recently why I think our relationship is so strong to withstand 37 years and hundreds of miles of distance. Honesty and love. Gentle honesty and genuine love. Rarely have we been mean to one another (and never in adulthood). If one of us decides to try something new, the other is supportive and offers encouragement. Always. If she wants to run a 1/2 marathon, I'll call her up and give her support. I'll even start training to run a 10k with her when she decides she wants to do the 1/2 again as a mom of two under two. (I call it CrAzY, and she knows it.) When she realizes how CrAzY it is, we move on to something more manageable. No hard-feelings. No harsh words of youcouldn'thackit condemnation. Just relief that I don't have to keep running anymore!

So we accept each other for who we are. We can't help it. We grew up together and we'll grow old together. Though we wish we lived closer again, the idea of houses across the dirt road isn't altogether realistic anymore. When we travel to see each other, the important stuff isn't the "what should we do?" but the sitting and chatting and visiting and being together. It's the taking of kids to the park. It's the recreating of our old photos together by putting our daughters on a tire swing. It's the laughs and reconnecting and time spent just being us. Just doing what we do. Whatever it might be.

A Few Simple Words

I'm comparing myself to you. Right now. I am. You're beautiful and perfect in every way. Seriously. I'm a lump of a mess on the couch who can't seem to "get" the parenting thing, who never manages to put together a single outfit that looks decent outside of the department store dressing room, who wishes she was someone else at times.

But there was that one time when I heard a few simple words. So today I'm wearing a red sweater. My closet is jam-packed with black and shades of black. Sometimes I venture into navy and once in a great while you'll see a splash of Go Big Red red. But mostly I stick to black... you know, it's slimming and all. But today I threw on that red sweater intentionally because one week ago a friend said a few simple words as she gathered one of my most precious possessions into her ride and carted her to school as she does each and every school day. She said to me, "You look good in that red sweater. I like that on you."

Since that brief and likely unmemorable (for her) moment, I've been struck by the idea that I might look good in red. This comment came only days after I waved goodbye and glimpsed my girlfriend's pink tshirt through the car window as she backed out, thinking how cute she always always always looks, only to see myself in the storm door wearing grey shorts and a... you guessed it, black tshirt. Yes, I love my hubby and am proud that he was a college rugby player back in the day, but I promptly changed out of that shirt and put on a Go Big Red red shirt that morning. Because I realized I was boring boring boring in black. Ugh. Boring.

See how that all came about? Just a few simple words in the driveway one morning. "You look cute in that! I like that red sweater on you!" How simple. How mind-numbingly easy. Yet each and every day we miss opportunities to offer compliments. Today I embark on a journey of compliments. Encouragement and praise. Uplifting words and phrases.

Some people are born with the gift of offering compliments easily and without consideration. It's automatic. It's genuine and automatic. I'm not one of those people, but I'm on a mission to become one. I want to be the person you can't wait to run into because I'll have something nice and beautiful to say to you. Words of affirmation that make you feel good about your wardrobe choice, how you did your hair today, how fit you are looking, how wonderful your children are... words that lift you up and put a smile on your face. Words that will brighten your day and stick with you for days to come. Words that you can cherish for at least a few moments if not hours or days or even years.

I want to be there for you with a  few simple words. So here's to today being my Red Sweater Day!

Holiday Hangovers

Have you noticed how holiday weekends create a hangover effect on the first day back to reality? A lack of motivation, coordination and ability to open both eyelids at the same time? I'm not a coffee drinker, but the older I get the more it appeals to me.

Our holiday weekend was filled with all the good stuff that leads to a "back to reality hangover"...

Church. Easter service at church filled with some of the traditional classic hymns, although I did notice a lack of oversized hats this year. Maybe I'll have to pick that tradition back up next year... on Ella's beautiful little head of course. Not mine.

Wonderful food. Wonderful, unhealthy, sweet and chocolatey goodness. Goodness that lasts a moment on the lips and a lifetime... yup, on the hips.

Egg hunting a-plenty. Ella was super over-the-top excited to hide eggs for the adults to hunt. Seeing as how the enthusiasm level for the treat bag hunt was far below the anticipated level, I warned her that her idea might be met with far less egg-citement than she hoped. Good thing we had a few good sports in the group and we managed to get through her egg hiding with only one lost egg... the racoons and opossums found a treat that night I suspect.

Front-yard softball. Ella and Cassius have gained an appropriate affection for The Sandlot and will consistently yell "You play ball like a girl" when the situation calls for it. And sometimes when it doesn't. As we drove down the street last week the teams were out in full-force at local diamonds and I heard one child encourage the other to open the van window and yell that same much-adored phrase. Why would they do that? Because, "That would be funny." True that, kiddo. True that.

We heard that phrase a few (million) times during our own little training camp this weekend, but I'd say both the kids should be decent ball players some day. Cassius has the catching and throwing potential while Ella promises to be a great DH and pinch runner. She's got great form and follow-through on her swing and she's greased lightning around the bases. Of course mom makes a phenomenal pitcher/catcher/hitter/runner/base coach and spectator, as does dad. Grandpa even joined in the game and knocked a few out of the park just like, well...
the sultan of swat!
the king of crash!
the colossus of clout!
THE GREAT BAMBINO!

Thankfully Aunt Shari ran a little catching clinic for Miss E this weekend as well. While her brother was practicing last week she joined in only to stomp off after mom "hit her" with three fairly well-placed and incredibly gentle lobs of the ball inches from her glove. Hopefully the lessons "stick" this week when we head out for a game of catch... otherwise she really will be a career DH!

Now that we are back home and snuggled into our own beds life goes back to the routine we are used to, but only after a day full of struggles. Struggles to wake up. To be productive. To eat better and get a good workout in. But tomorrow, well, by tomorrow the hangover will be gone and life will be back to normal again. 

Here's to your tomorrow! Make the very best of it and remember this is your chance to do this day better than all the others you've lived so far.