The Art of Being a Mother

I just returned from an inspiring first grade "art exhibit" night at a local public school. Since public schools no longer have art teachers, the first grade teachers developed their own art program. They spend four weeks teaching the kids about Van Gogh, Matisse, Picasso, and O'Keefe. The children learn about the artists, and finally they imitate each one by re-creating their own versions of famous paintings. The room was full of kids literally all dressed up with no place to go--except where the cookies were. Parents snapped away with cell phones and digital devices. I have no grandchildren yet, so my friend Bonne (who has 5) takes me along to these things. We call it my B.I.T. project: Bubbie-In-Training. Her grandson Noah was supposed to be our docent, but it was obvious the kid wanted to be elsewhere. He was a dervish looking for a place to whirl.

Noah finally pointed out his self-portrait in the style of Van Gogh. Then his mother Judith tried to get him to stand still long enough for a picture in front of it. She held up her camera and counted "one...two...THREE!" She did this several times. Each time she got to "THREE," Noah jumped up the air, flailing his arms and gleefully ruining the photo. Judith was completely cool about it. I would have been pissed and yelling at him to stop being such a pip. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. I asked Judith why she kept letting Noah mess up all the pictures. With a twinkle in her eye, she explained: "Oh, he thinks he is so clever, but he is my son. He can't outsmart me. I snap on "TWO!"

So tonight I learned something new about the art of mothering from a young woman who is obviously a master!