The Snowman…

The packet came home in Parker’s school folder – a large blue sheet of construction paper and a small instruction sheet. It was his “homework”: we were to create a picture of a snowman together using whatever creative supplies we could find. Easy-peasy, I thought, thinking about a bunch of ideas I could suggest to Parker about making our snowman. Plus, Parker is (usually) ultra-meticulous and creative, so (I thought) we were ready to go.

But then he proceeded to tell me that he wanted to make it all by himself. This should have been great…perfect…but then I started thinking about all of the other “parent/child” projects and how amazing they were going to be. And I’ll be honest…I was thinking less about how Parker would respond to all of the other cooler snowmen…and thinking more about how it would reflect on me. What were the other parents going to think when they saw Parker’s snowman and it obviously didn’t have the “parent” touch? Would they think that I was distant…not involved…not helpful…a bad mom?

He finished his “homework” alone. I tried to give suggestions and offered to help, but I was given the cold shoulder. I fretted about it all the way into school, where we saw an amazing spread of snowmen. Seriously? They were mind-blowing works of art. To his credit, Parker barely gave them a glance, but tromped right into class and proudly turned in his snowman. I was less secure…worried…and made sure his teachers knew that he did it by himself and that I, the good mom, tried to help him. I did…and I was immediately annoyed with myself.

Because does it matter…at all? Should I care what other people think about my so-called parenting skills? Shouldn’t I be simply proud that Parker took the initiative to finish the project by himself?

Of course I shouldn’t care…and of course, I should be proud. He is an amazing kid, full of imagination and creativity. He made his snowman a music lover, with musical note stickers and white foam arms. Instead, I found myself cringing inside as I watched my self-confidence dissolve into tatters…and all over a ridiculous snowman project.

The thing is? These “parent/child” projects aren’t going to go away, so I guess a new approach is in order…

1. Get a grip.

2. Have realistic expectations.

3. Accept imperfection.

4. Be a good example and accept myself for who I am

5. Circulate a petition for them to be dropped from the curriculum

(okay – maybe that one is unrealistic)

In the meantime, the snowmen watch us as we put on our boots and hats to head out to the car. Every day, a new dazzling creation shows up on the wall. Every day, I try to stifle my need to tell everyone in the hallway that Parker did his alone and that’s why his isn’t made out of paint chips or fabric scraps or buttons or carefully fluffed cotton balls. (Failed on that front today) Every day, I find myself learning from my kids what I don’t seem to figure out on my own…you do what makes you happy and proud…whether or not everyone else around you understands it or appreciates it.

Gotta love those lessons…