The kids LOVE to finger paint. I have learned that finger painting is a wonderful way for the kids to learn thier colors. The kids also love to pick someone in the family to send these works of art to. They especially enjoy the clean up after because they get to stand at the sink and wash all the paintbrushes, caps and sponges out. I LOVE the kids to finger paint because it gives me about 15 minutes to do something in peace. Switching the laundry, unloading and loading the dishwasher, starting dinner, getting ready for the day, whatever it is that needs done. Don't get me wrong- I love to have my kids helping me with these daily chores, but man, they get done alot quicker when they are not under my feet. Which reminds me of an article in the Ensign that I read a couple of years ago. It's called Two Toddlers Underfoot. To this day it's one of my favorites. It's posted on my fridge and I read it often. It really comes in handy at the end of a long day when I feel like I have accomplished absolutly nothing. Anyway, here is a copy of the article.
Ida L. Ewing, “Two Toddlers Underfoot,” Ensign, Apr 2006
At the end of a particularly unproductive day, I found myself feeling exasperated at my inability to get anything done with two toddlers constantly underfoot. I decided to call my older sister, Treisa, for some advice. She has three active boys, yet she remains cheerful and calm. Treisa commiserated with me and said my struggles brought to mind an experience she had had shortly after moving from their small trailer.
Treisa had expected that after the move into a larger home, her children would build toy castles somewhere other than in front of the kitchen sink and would no longer need to use the pile of laundry she was folding as the base for their hide-and-seek games. Somehow, though, that change never occurred—her children continued to exist in a sort of holding pattern around her legs. But, she told me, one day she came across a passage of scripture in Mark 10:13–14, 16 that helped her overcome her frustrations.
After our conversation I read:
“And they brought young children to him, that he should touch them: and his disciples rebuked those that brought them.
“But when Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said unto them, Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God. …
“And he took them up in his arms, put his hands upon them, and blessed them.”
I noticed that just before this incident with the children, Christ was challenged by the Pharisees. He easily could have felt tired or irritable, yet He welcomed the children, picked them up, and blessed them.
I pondered this selfless act of love, focusing on what it could mean for me as a mother. I realized that too often I pushed my children away. But if I follow Christ’s example, then even when the laundry and dishes are piling up, the bills need to be paid, and I’ve had too little sleep, I can stop, take my children in my arms, and love them. Perhaps this was what my sister was trying to tell me—when your children are in your arms, they are no longer underfoot.
At the end of a particularly unproductive day, I found myself feeling exasperated at my inability to get anything done with two toddlers constantly underfoot. I decided to call my older sister, Treisa, for some advice. She has three active boys, yet she remains cheerful and calm. Treisa commiserated with me and said my struggles brought to mind an experience she had had shortly after moving from their small trailer.
Treisa had expected that after the move into a larger home, her children would build toy castles somewhere other than in front of the kitchen sink and would no longer need to use the pile of laundry she was folding as the base for their hide-and-seek games. Somehow, though, that change never occurred—her children continued to exist in a sort of holding pattern around her legs. But, she told me, one day she came across a passage of scripture in Mark 10:13–14, 16 that helped her overcome her frustrations.
After our conversation I read:
“And they brought young children to him, that he should touch them: and his disciples rebuked those that brought them.
“But when Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said unto them, Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God. …
“And he took them up in his arms, put his hands upon them, and blessed them.”
I noticed that just before this incident with the children, Christ was challenged by the Pharisees. He easily could have felt tired or irritable, yet He welcomed the children, picked them up, and blessed them.
I pondered this selfless act of love, focusing on what it could mean for me as a mother. I realized that too often I pushed my children away. But if I follow Christ’s example, then even when the laundry and dishes are piling up, the bills need to be paid, and I’ve had too little sleep, I can stop, take my children in my arms, and love them. Perhaps this was what my sister was trying to tell me—when your children are in your arms, they are no longer underfoot.
2 comments:
yay! blogging is coming along! i'm thrilled! not that you don't get enough of me on the phone... but this will be great to see pics too. and i love this latest family pic. lOOk at all the BLUE eyes!
p.s. i guess i should whip out the fingerpaints some time this week when it's raining/snowing like it is! you're a brave mommy! :)
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