I'm hoping that maybe if we keep making flower crafts, our own real flowers will get the hint. We have a few daffodils in bloom, but our tulips are being stubborn. It's May already, where are the flowers? We're still getting nothing but rain.
Except in the house.
I printed a picture of a flower off the computer, traced it on cardboard, and cut it out. |
The kiddos used cut-up sponges to paint inside the template. |
Then, they painted stems . . . |
. . . leaves . . . |
. . . and the centers of the flowers. |
Our very own garden! |
Aren't they pretty? |
I've said before that anything involving paint is a winner in our house. Alyssa used her sponge to dab on the paint for her first two flowers. Then, she saw her big brother applying his like a paintbrush. She followed suit, as usual. Monkey see, monkey do.
Alyssa's flowers have cleaner lines because I held the template in place for her. Jake did his picture all by himself. His edges are a little blurry and the page has a little extra paint, but that independence is totally worth it.
When it was time for the center, I realized that I had forgotten the yellow paint, so I went to get it. When I got back a minute later, I found Alyssa with those lovely green smears across her paper. My initial thought was, "What did you do? Why did you ruin it?" It's that perfectionism attitude surfacing again. It's one thing to look at my own work that way, but I'm trying very hard not to look at my children like that. I don't ever want to make my children feel inferior. I want their creativity to flow. I want to see their impression of art. If green strips across the page is how she wants it, then green strips across the page is how I want it.
Maybe her garden is a symbol of reality. Maybe it shows the storms we've been having. Maybe it's the wind tearing the delicate flowers from their safe home in the ground. Maybe she's sympathizing with their pain and abandonment.
Maybe she just likes to paint.
Maybe her garden is a symbol of reality. Maybe it shows the storms we've been having. Maybe it's the wind tearing the delicate flowers from their safe home in the ground. Maybe she's sympathizing with their pain and abandonment.
Maybe she just likes to paint.
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