A few months ago Four began making actual drawings instead of just scribbling. Now he draws or colors every day. Most of his drawings are immediately
balled up folded and presented to me as gifts. This self-portrait was an exception – he would not crinkle it in the slightest, and he had me put it on the refrigerator but pointedly did not tell me it was mine. In it, he is holding ninja weapons, or wait, no. In his right hand is a ninja weapon, while the weapon in his left is a lightsabre. And his hair can actually kind of get like that. The color is accurate.
I do not think my children realize how much they reveal about themselves through their drawings. Or maybe they do. And that is why they watch my face so carefully when they hold their masterpieces up for me to see.
My fridge is plastered with them, I have to rotate paintings and drawings and school art projects out on a weekly basis. Some go discreetly into the recycling bin (sorry boys!); others I put away as souvenirs of these special years. But now, since we finally, officially rid ourselves of the massive television screen I inherited through my separation, I have a beautiful blank wall in the living room to fill with all their artwork.