I read somewhere that someone was discouraging parents from holding onto their children's art work. To that end I respond with a big, "Pshaw!"
My adult children's art not only inspires me, makes my heart happy, but also takes me back to a time when life was so much simpler. A time where two toddlers ruled the roost, waddled around, frequently wiped their runny noses wherever they could, and hugs were aplenty. It was a time of stress, no sleep for sure, but still a time I remember fondly.
I love my daughter's broad wide lines, or even peering at the figures and trying to decipher what is going on the picture. I wholeheartedly embrace the giant watermelon heads, and the fingers that look like tassels. What do I love the most you might ask? I love how she has drawn herself larger than anything else in the picture because in her head she is the most important thing in the world.
And she still is.
