a purpose

It's an interesting job, this whole mom gig.  I love it wholeheartedly.  More than I could've ever imagined.  It's all I've ever wanted to do.  To be.

It's also interesting to see all the different methods of being a mom.  There are so many notions out there of 'just the right method' to raise kids... even the 'there is no right method' philosophy!  It's the type of job where there's plenty of room for self doubt, where others feel free to give their own (unsolicited) advice/opinions, where you're constantly adjusting tactics and focus.

I was very grateful for the wiser  and kind moms sitting behind us at daily Mass this morning.  The moms who smiled when I turned to offer 'peace', who said how wonderful my 3 girls were, and thanked me for bringing them along.  Because on this particular visit to see 'MaryJesus', they were not behaving quite so beautifully as these ladies made out.  Camille was sprawled on the floor announcing that she wanted to sing, "Rio", and would I please stop singing that other song??!!!  Maria in an effort to keep Lila entertained, pulled the string that makes the little carseat toy sing.  The one Lila can't quite pull herself.  Did I mention it doesn't have an off switch?  All while Lila cooed and squealed causing all of the perfectly behaved school age kids to turn and look.  (We attended the local school Mass at OLMC.)  Oh yeah, and we were occupying about 3 quarters of the pew due to a sprawled out collection of books and colors.  I felt more like the main attraction rather than usual side show.

Grateful.  And humbled.

I am also grateful for moments like these.  Moments when I see the creative beauty of cuddly (and loud) Camille begin to flourish in quiet spaces.  Spaces that are all her own - a corner of the living room where Dada created their secret Star-Getter house (more on that later), the play/art room with a table (legs sawed to their height) and a bench that was built by Dada to be just the perfect little person size.

Along the lines of this whole self doubt inflicted mom job, I often question our 'play' room... which has evolved into more of an art room.  We visit little friends' houses, and the girls go bonkers over all of the TOYS.  Big toys lining the walls, little toys filling the shelves, buckets, and bins.  

Of course we have toys, but I keep wondering if what has become the perfect place for our 5 year old, is also an appropriate place for the 2 year old to play.  

The art room evolved because I feel quite strongly about encouraging the very natural imagination/creative spirits of little people.  I believe our world would be place of far more beauty and peace if more Littles were allowed to let their creativity shine forth... to express in some physical way all that lies within their little heads and bodies.

And so in the middle of my self doubt and good intentions of transforming our art room into more of a play room, I've ever so grateful for the pause that Camilly offered me.  She has reached the stage of drawing with a purpose.  The stage when little stories and specific names are attached to her drawings.  She has begun asking for her art book; little doodles of Dada, Mommy, Ree, Lila, and herself spilling forth.  

She also reminds me that for her, her art has had a purpose long before she could attach the words to let me know... to know of the inner beauty that her scribbles expressed.  And just like that, my 2 year old erased any self doubt I've had over this whole play room/art room debate.  An art room it is, my wee one.  An art room it shall remain.