Harper wraps up her second week in the toddler room tomorrow. The first day last Monday was a bit rough: she cried when I dropped her off for the first time ever, so of course I did too. It wasn't my first time crying at the guilt of leaving her at day care, but it was the first time I didn't make it to the car before the tears started.
This time I started crying right in the classroom, which was really not helpful for anyone. The more I tried to clamp down on the tears the worse it got. I didn't even cry in the room on the very first day (just for hours afterward). Anyway, though she still seems pretty overwhelmed in the mornings and is completely exhausted in the evenings, the drop-off process has improved and no one has shed any more tears in the classroom. It helps that I drop her off right when breakfast is delivered--food trumps just about anything.
Harper now has art sessions twice a day as part of her new adventures in the toddler room. This means that when I go to pick her up there are two pieces of "art" waiting for me in addition to a very cranky toddler. The first day I brought this art home I told Joe, "We're going to have to establish a philosophy on Harper's art."
There was a long pause while he cocked an eyebrow and looked at me like I'd said, "Hey, I brought home a Martian."
"What, like an artist's statement?" he said. It was my turn to cock an eyebrow. We have a couple of family and friends who are artists that have had to tackle the daunting task of writing artist statements that somehow ring true as unique and personal yet avoid the ring of crazy or hokey. Apparently Joe thought the day care was requesting something similar from us as the parents of Harper, the artist.
"Ah, no," I said. "I think her statement would be, 'Is this edible?' I meant, are we going to keep all these things?" I held up the latest item, titled "Shapes Collage," made of purple construction paper, drizzles of corn syrup (turns out it is edible) and three tissue paper shapes.
Before you think I'm a terribly insensitive mother who is willing to pitch her kid's art before it even dries, let me first tell you we have a stainless steel fridge that won't hold a magnet, and second, I'm a purger. Some people hoard, some people purge. I'm the generally latter.
What I was looking for was some kind approval for a plan of limited display and then toss, some validation that it's ok that I don't want to start a storage unit for the two pieces of art she'll be bringing home between now and high school. Instead I got questions about establishing our toddler's artistic philosophy. Maybe Joe will have to be in charge of the storage unit.
