Last night was the last night of the 6-week fall session of the Mothers’ Writing Workshop. We will continue, but after the holidays and after I plan out our winter getaway with my family. (But that is another topic. Winter in New England.)
So last night, the workshop was fluid just like the last 5 weeks, however we were missing a few moms due to children’s flu recovery and a new change in sleep pattern for a new mom and baby. I ended the workshop exactly how I started with a basketful of items. I collected rocks, shells, baby socks, little plastic toys and trinkets from around the playroom hoping to elicit thoughts and feelings. Everyone chose an item from the basket, “Choose something that speaks to you.” I chose an egg carton with dried glue and Q-tips. This is what I wrote…
Projects
The boys need projects. The only projects I know are art projects. This grey egg carton in front of me with dried glue and Q-tips sticking straight up was made by Asher age 3. He wanted to use glue so instead of simply having it squeeze from the bottle onto the paper I told him to squeeze the bottle into each of the egg holders and let that be a project within a project. Art projects last for about 10 minutes, if I am extremely lucky. On Sunday morning I really created the perfect after breakfast project.
“The cereal makes a loud crunch in your head as you chew, doesn’t it?” I asked Asher as all three of us ate spoonful after spoonful of Kashi. Stick and twigs.
“Mmm,” said Asher.
“Yike it,” agreed Finn. I was ready for play and to get in their head.
“Do you want to paint after breakfast?”
“Yeah!”
“Peent!” cried Finn.
We used to paint all the time. It was right about this time last year I had the boys paint their first time together. Finn was, let’s see, 21-12= 9 months. (Wow). A baby. So I tied a sling around him in a little red plastic chair, put a paint brush in his little fist and let the boys paint while I quickly cut out shapes of leaves etc and had them stick them on the wet paint. The paint acted like glue and the figures stuck to their picture. Asher dominated, Finn observed. That’s how it usually goes. So today, about a year later, I cleared the kitchen, removed rugs, and moved tables. I taped onto the windows large pieces of paper and let the “wild rumpus start.”
“Mix blue and red and white,” directed Asher. “Green for Finny-Finn-Finn.”
Everyone was painting neatly in their pajamas and the brush strokes were vertical on the paper. Then somehow Asher got naked. It usually happens like that, I don’t really pay attention to how or why things are going in the direction they are going, I just let go and see what happens. So the next thing you know, Asher is naked in the kitchen with the morning light streaming in behind the picture which he is not painting, because now he is finding great joy in painting his body.
“I’m a purple monster. Do you think Finny will be scared?”
“Maybe?” I giggle.
Finn runs into the kitchen smiling. He’s naked. Where he was I have no idea because I’ve been taking pictures of Asher on my phone for FB and I am careful to put the little purple gerber food baby paint jar in front of his penis for integrity. Finn steps in front of the camera and joins his brother. They are happy. We have entertained each other joyfully and they are silly and giggly.
“Tubby Time” I say in a sing-song voice. “Bubbles.” I hear squeals as we run into the bathroom. I keep it jolly before it gets out of hand. They jump eagerly into the frothy tub.
“Look, Mom, the water is purple!”
“What a wonderful scene to wake up to,” says Will. He’s smiling. (Which is great coming from someone who at times is a clean-up-as-you-play-keep-it neat-Dad.)
Damn, I love being a Mom and more importantly I enjoy writing about it.
WOW!
Lucky boys to have you for a mother, lucky me to be part of it all!
Love you,
Mom