Maybe Picasso

Today we tried to finger paint.  Like probably most new moms, I have a tendency to get really excited to try new "special" moments with my baby.  I unintentionally play it all out in my head; how my 16-month-old will tentatively dip her little finger tips in the paint, the smear the colors on the paper with a look of rapture and joy.  She'll make happy sounds as she grabs for more paint and rubs it all around with vehemence for the better part of an hour, and we'll cover our walls with art that is clearly the first work of a future artistic genius.

Ready for the shocker of the century?  It didn't go like that.

Although it didn't go as you probably would expect.  She actually did dip her little finger quite tentatively in the paint.  She actually was pretty enamored with the feeling of the cold, wet paint and the color on the paper.

For about a minute and a half.  Then she lost interest.

I think she didn't like the feeling of the paint drying on her hand, because eventually she started trying to shake it off- to no avail, of course.  I've actually got her pretty well trained to not touch things when her hands are dirty (I've just always said, "No touch, baby" when her hands are messy from eating) so after her picture was finished (she told me pretty clearly, "Ished!" and waved her little hands back and forth like she always does) she just kind of stood there, not really sure what to do with herself.  She wanted to sit on her stool and inspect her messy hands.  Then she was really excited to take a bath.

I guess she's only interested in getting messy for something really worthwhile, like chocolate.  I don't blame her.

    
A masterpiece, I'm telling you.  A masterpiece.

We celebrate small around here.  All firsts, everything ordinary, all the quiet moments- they are precious.

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