Milo has this tendency to refuse to do something if he can’t do it well. He lost it the other day because he couldn’t mix a dark enough shade of blue and went to his room screaming, “I’m an artist and artists paint!” He refused to put his pants on today because he said he couldn’t quite get the elastic waistband of his Super Friends undies to sit right. Mmmhm, I wonder where he gets it from?
I was one of those kids in the gifted and talented classes; we were making Lego robots and rewriting Greek tragedies in the fourth grade. My parents and teachers were always telling me how smart and bright I was. School wasn’t that hard and most things came easy to me. Did I go to an Ivy League school or top notch art school? Nope. If I stuck around Colorado and didn’t really try, none of my shortcomings would be revealed. I could just keep on doing the big fish in a small pond thing. I’m not saying that I’m not happy here and I’m not saying that being an art teacher isn’t something I’m passionate about. I love my life but… I’ve always had that sneaking voice in my head that tells me that I could be living a much bigger life. Being brave and willing to fail are not things I’m used to, yet.
God forbid someone be better than me at something. God forbid that I fail and worst of all, fail when people are watching. Well, if I want my kids to be risk takers, be hard workers and be able to recover from failure and disappointment, I better get on with learning those lessons myself.
Today was Milo’s second day of preschool and his dad dropped him off. I wanted to go pick him up because I missed the little guy. When I got there he was bummed because he wanted his dad. He told me as I was helping him into his jammies that I would have to be brave next time and that I shouldn’t worry because he and Daddy would always come back because they loved me. I can be brave and be loved. This is an entirely fresh concept to me. I think I’ll marinate on it while I make a few more brave marks on these pieces of paper. Yellow seems like a brave choice, doesn’t it?