I eat paint

The first time I let Sadie paint, it was at the kitchen table. She was also 15 months old. I stood her on a chair, took off her shirt, handed her a brush, paint, and cup of water and just let her go. She happily gingerly dipped her brush in the colors and filled a paper with beautiful lines. She is a natural artist, with the brush strokes of a budding Van Gogh. I actually matted and framed her very first painting, and it hangs in my house. Click here to see the blog entry from that day.



Joe Joe...not so much. I had the insight into his personality enough to foresee the need to contain him in the highchair. Good move. When my son is left without a strap to pin him down, messes are spread over much of my house, and things are broken. I gave him paints, a brush, and a cup with just a half an ounce of water.

He painted for a second...then poked a hole in his paper with his brush, proceeded to eat the paint (as shown above) and drink the colored water to wash it down, letting it spill down his chin and pool onto his paper.

Not to say he isn't an artist because of his shenanigans. Perhaps water color just isn't his medium. Who am I to say that when he throws dirt on the ground, or puts fists full of soup on his tray and proceedes to thrash it back and forth, sloughing it with an open palm he isn't experimenting and expressing himself artistically? I try not to be a critic. Simply a spectator--then curator of his "creations."