If you’re the kind of parent who treasures every single piece of your child’s art, displaying it proudly on social media and turning your home into an exhibition of their creativity, this might not resonate with you.
“What happened to the picture I made at school?” my four-year-old son asked, his big brown eyes searching mine for answers, clearly puzzled about the fate of his latest “masterpiece.”
My heart raced. I peered into the trash can, already filled with kitchen scraps, thwarting my chances of a last-minute rescue — a move I had successfully pulled off in the past.
Who could I pin this on? My husband, the usual suspect, was at work, leaving me without a scapegoat. I had already exhausted the “weird, I have no clue how that ended up in the trash” excuse just yesterday.
So, how do I respond to this innocent inquiry without shattering his little heart and sending him years of therapy over a cold, unfeeling mother?
Call me heartless, but I was simply tired of pretending that every scribble and squiggle from my child was a work of art worthy of the Louvre. Don’t get me wrong, I admire his creativity, but let’s face it: at four years old, he’s no Michelangelo. Much of what he creates is more suitable for the trash than the living room wall.
Reluctantly, I decided to come clean. Taking a deep breath, I said, “I threw it away.”
There, I had said it.
I watched his expression, hoping for a hint of forgiveness in his eyes. Could he still love me knowing I didn’t cherish his two blue lines and an ambiguous yellow shape? Was there a way to retract my statement and blame it on his sister later?
Silence. Just a blank stare.
“Sweetheart,” I said, softening my tone and running my fingers through his tousled hair, “You create something new every day. I simply can’t keep it all. But you know what? The truly special pieces can go on the fridge for everyone to see!”
I whispered under my breath, “And the rest… well, they’ll just go to the bin.”
Miraculously, his face lit up, and he responded, “Okay! Can I draw another picture?”
Now, the fridge stands as a hallowed space, a gallery for my kids’ most cherished works. Limited to a few select items, the old pieces cycle out as new creations come in.
This system has taught my children a valuable lesson — not all art is created equal, and I won’t be showering praise on every single piece they produce. Only the most heartfelt ones earn a spot on the fridge.
Seeing my kids beam with pride when their work is deemed “fridge worthy” brings me joy, while also keeping my home less cluttered. Most importantly, I no longer have to sift through the trash.
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In summary, while it may seem harsh to toss out my child’s art, this approach has fostered pride and creativity in my kids while maintaining a harmonious home.