If you’re a parent who treasures every scrap of paper your child doodles on, sharing their artwork on social media and decorating your home with their colorful creations, you might want to stop reading now. This won’t resonate with you.
“What happened to the picture I made at school?” my four-year-old daughter, Lily, asked with innocent curiosity, her big eyes searching for the whereabouts of her latest “masterpiece.”
Panic immediately washed over me. I glanced into the trash bin. Great, there was already food on top, thwarting any last-minute rescue attempt that had worked previously.
My next thought: who could I pin this on? My partner, Mark, my usual scapegoat, was out, so that excuse wouldn’t fly. And I had just used the “how peculiar…I have no clue how that ended up in the trash” excuse yesterday.
How do I answer her innocent question without shattering her dreams or sending her spiraling into therapy sessions about her heartless mother?
Call me heartless, but I was tired of pretending that every scribbled line my daughter produced at preschool or home was a masterpiece. I genuinely admire her creativity, but let’s be real—she’s four. Most of what she creates resembles chaos and, honestly, belongs in the trash.
It was time to be honest. I took a deep breath. Here goes nothing…“I threw it out,” I stated plainly.
There. I said it.
I searched her eyes for any sign of tears. Would she still love me after this? Was it possible to still love someone who didn’t appreciate her creation of two blue lines and a random yellow circle?
Her expression was blank—no tears, no anger.
“Sweetheart,” I said gently, running my fingers through her soft brown curls. “You make something new every day. I just can’t keep it all. But you know what? The truly special pieces you create can go on the fridge for everyone to see!” And then, under my breath, I added, “And the rest will just go in the trash.”
To my surprise, she brightened up and replied, “Okay…can I go draw another picture?”
Now, the fridge has become a sacred space, a prestigious home for both Lily and her older brother’s “masterpieces.” There’s only room for a few select pieces, so old items rotate out as new ones are created.
My children have learned an invaluable lesson — not all artwork is equal, and I won’t pretend to be amazed by every little thing they create. Only the most heartfelt and special pieces make it onto the fridge.
They now take immense pride in their “fridge-worthy” artwork. I enjoy a less cluttered home, and best of all, I no longer have to sift through the garbage.
For more insights on parenting and creativity, visit this blog post, which provides a different perspective. And if you’re seeking more information on fertility, check out this resource for helpful insights. Additionally, for those interested in enhancing fertility, take a look at this fertility booster that could be beneficial.
Summary
In a candid reflection, a mother recounts her struggle with the overwhelming amount of artwork created by her children. Acknowledging that not every piece is a masterpiece, she embraces the idea of curating their creations, allowing only the most meaningful to be displayed on the fridge. This approach not only reduces clutter but also instills a sense of pride in her children when their work is deemed special.