My little artist

My son is quiet the artist. If I was a more technologically savvy blogger I would have a scanner and I could scan in one of his masterpieces and share it with all of my lovely readers (you). As is, you will just have to use your imagination.

This is a recent development for Zachary. Only 6 or 7 months ago he refused to color. "You do it mommy!" he would demand and hand me a stubby crayon. This was a bit of a predicament. I am in all honesty a terrible, terrible artist. I really can't even draw the most rudimentary pictures. "Make a race car!" "now make a firetruck!" he would demand like a tiny tyrant. I forced myself to try. I knew that refusing would set a bad example. So try I would and the end result, some sort of alien stick vehicle.

But now, a mere six months later, I cannot keep the little Picasso away from the art supplies. In fact, the playroom is constantly littered with scraps of paper, markers with missing caps and crayons worn down to a tiny stub. He is drawing letters and numbers. Worst mistake ever, confusing on of his number 3's for the letter E. You have to tread lightly, Zachary does not appreciate it when one misinterprets his work.

Today we took the boys to MOCHA in Oakland. I wasn't sure what to expect. I thought it was an art museum with kid's activities. I was wrong. It was really just a room with some tables and easels and a ton of art supplies. The boys were in HEAVEN. We spent an hour and a half painting and cutting and sticking stuff with glue. Zack painted one work of art after another. A mean dinosaur, a rocket ship blasting into a galaxy filled with purple stars and what was suppose to be a crescent moon, a red water slide underneath a sky crowded with fluffy green clouds.

He thoroughly enjoyed himself. And I had a wonderful time as well, watching him get messy and asking him about his paintings. He loved the attention, and I loved that we were bonding. In general it has been nice to see Zack develop this quieter, more thoughtful side of his personality. For those of you whom have had the pleasure of meeting Zack, you know that he his a fireball of energy who enjoys nothing more than rolling around on the ground in an aggressive wrestling match with his daddy. It has often left me wondering where on earth I was going to fit into the equation. I, not much for rough-housing have worried that it would be hard to find common ground with my boys. But now I have hope, hope that my boys will have diverse interests that will change with time, and that will allow room for their less than-athletic mama to find some common ground.