Really, really messy! Those are the consequences of leaving a toddler inside all day because the weather is so cold. Like anyone that is cooped up all winter, toddlers become bored. Having played with the same toys over and over again slowly driving them insane.
That is exactly the situation that we have found ourselves in. My oldest who is 20 months, is a complete summer baby. Give him a pool and the sun and he is the happiest boy around. Keep him inside all winter and he starts losing his mind. Not to mention that the weather has teased us recently. Who has ever heard of February being warmer than March?
In my attempt to keep things interesting, I decided that it was time to explore finger painting. He’s been showing an active interest in coloring his Thomas the Train coloring book so I figured this would be a good idea. Was it?
For a second maybe it was. He was apprehensive not wanting to get his hands dirty. Then, as I’m playing with the paint by myself, attempting to coax him in to joining me, he decides the tubes of paint are much more interesting. So interesting in fact, that he did his best to get all the paint out of them.
This wonderful idea backfired as it caused me, hands full of paint turning my fingers different colors of the rainbow, to run around after him trying to keep our floor from taking the worst of it. The garbage bags under the mess did as best a job as they could maintaining the mess, but in the end, even they had to be trashed. We won’t even mention his clothes. For whatever reason, I thought it was perfectly fine to leave him wearing his mostly white pajama. Which is no longer white and I can only hope that the paint will come off. It does say washable right?
In the end though, it is those moments that I will remember. Parents are so tired of hearing this, but the time does really go by so fast. Our youngest is already four months old and my wonderful scared-of-finger-painting-boy acts like a teenager.
The concentration he’s showing his Kindle Tablet is only a testament to what he will like as he grows up. One day, he will no longer want to even try to play with the tubes of paint with me, or give finger painting a good go, let alone watch me do it by myself. One day, I will want time to slow down as much as I would like it to move faster right now so that maybe I’ll get some much needed sleep. One day, I’ll stay up all night thinking about what it was like when they were younger and we were the center of their world.