I have six kids. They’re creative. They’re artistic. They’re expressive. I love their talent. I do not, however, love their choice of medium when they’re creating their masterpieces. I remember losing my mind over some of my kids’ um, “artwork.” I mean, seriously losing my mind! I thought my head would explode when I’d walk into a room and see diaper cream smeared all over every surface, or the dog’s fur covered in blue yogurt, or maple syrup painted on the dining room wall.
I’m glad I took pictures back in the day. They serve as a reminder of those things that seemed like such big deals at the time, but now just make me smile and shake my head. They remind me that the things my teens do now will always fade away and be nothing more than a memory that brings a little chuckle to me in the not-so-distant future. My 20-year-old almost never draws on himself, his siblings, or the furniture anymore, so there is hope. Eventually they grow out of that stage.
In the meantime, as a seasoned mother to six industrious kids who are now aged 9-20, take my hard-earned advice. I know what I’m talking about here. This too shall pass. Also: never keep markers, paint, crayons, Sharpies, or any other medium your kids could get into, in the house. Ever. Box up all that stuff and take it to grandma and grandpa’s house. You’ll thank me later.