Today has been a less turbulent day.
On a whim, I decided to put away my lesson plan for the boys and have a morning of art instead. They didn't join me the way I thought they would, yet other things happened, as I gave into flexibility. They got to do something they both enjoy, together, strengthening their bond. At the same time, I was able to do something I love. I painted.
First I pulled out a piece I had started, over a week ago. A fall scene, with radiant orange skies, tufted with pinkish clouds. Green hills, rolling along the bottom. To which I added 4 trees, leaves drifting to the ground and piling up around them.
When that was finished, I decided to make a pumpkin picture. Four pumpkins of various sizes, vines still attached, resting in some grass, on a beautiful evening.
I'm not a greatly skilled artist. If I ever forget that, all I have to do is ask my husband what he thinks of my art. However, completing those paintings and hanging them on my wall felt good.
It felt good to share a part of myself others rarely see. To look at something I actually completed.
It was after this that my boys decided they, too, wanted to make things to hang on the wall.
Seeing them follow the example I set, so quickly, reminded me of how important our examples are. I can easily be weighed down by that truth. Instead, I feel lighter, knowing that the little things I do, that I may think I'm really not good at, simply because I like doing them, is teaching my kids to do things they love, not because of the great skills they have, but because doing those things makes them smile.