On handmade toddler gifts

If you know me well enough to know I have a blog, you know that I tend to be a bit... particular about certain things. I won't say perfectionist because there are plenty of areas where I accept chaos (see my desk, circa 1984-present). But I like pretty things, and I like my pretty things to be just right. So needless to say, the chaotic refrigerator covered with haphazard toddler-derived "art" has never really appealed to me. I've always thought the silly little ornaments and paper mache boxes sent home from pre-school and Sunday school were frankly over-rated.

But E & A have been working on changing my mind. Now don't get me wrong; I remain fully aware of just how ugly (let's be honest here) many of those messy little take-home crafts are. And how crooked the lines run. And how the embellishments are NOT asymmetrical in an aesthetically pleasing manner.

But seriously. The joy and absolute delight in those little eyes when they present me with their masterpieces are just too much. And anything with their hand prints just slays me. E in particular loves doing "projects" and is so very proud of her handiwork. And A gets the most adorable self-satisfied grin on his face when I let him hold the paintbrush all by himself, just like the big kids. The type A, order-loving, style-conscious Bethie just has to take a backseat to Mommy for a while. Because I need to enjoy those darling gifts - the sincere offerings of two loving little hearts. And they become beautiful to me because of their makers.

Someday they won't bring me macaroni mosaics or scribbled self-portraits. Someday my Mother's Day present will be a gift card or a quiet dinner out at some fancy schmancy restaurant. And those things will be nice, but macaroni and paper mache will always have a special place in my heart... and on my refrigerator.

That's my boy

I frequently comment on how Archer is more than half Zarnow. Not only does he look like a tiny (male) version of me, but he surely eats like a Zarnow, too. By which I mean he can eat ridiculous quantities of food and still want more and he has a wicked sweet tooth. Case in point below.

I offered a scoop of ice cream to the kiddos after dinner a couple days ago. Ellison happily worked her way to the bottom of the bowl, scraped the last drop of Hershey syrup out, and proudly announced, "I'm done!" before hopping down to go play.

Archer happily worked his way to the bottom of the bowl as well.

A: Mo! [more]

Me: No, dude. That's it. 

A: Mo peez! [more please]

Me:: Sorry, little guy. Just one scoop. No more. All gone.

A: I SAID MOOOOO!!!!!!

Yup. Add to his insatiable sweet tooth his strategy of loud and direct to make his wishes known, and he's definitely a Zarnow.