Wellington has the best weather. Said no-one ever. The cold bite of winter has finally hit us with full force and its arrival coincided with the last week of the mid-year school holidays so instead of just being miserable outside, we could all be miserable together inside as well. Thank goodness for loom bands and children that like to craft and watch lots of telly.
Aimee has always been quite the keen artist and the walls in our house bear proud testament to that. Especially at about Aimee height. Ahem. Lately she has been producing some really imaginative pictures where I can actually tell what they are instead of having one of those awkward conversations where I pretend to know exactly what she's drawn and she looks at me all indignantly because I guessed incorrectly.
One drawing she made for me in the holidays was so cute that the moment I saw it, a picture popped into my head of how it might look as a crochet doll. This is Aimee's picture of an ice-cream fairy:
There is so much to love about it. She chose the yarn colours and I spent a day cobbling it together with the help of this crochet ice-cream tutorial. I posted an image of the work in progress on Instagram and this is how it ended up:
|You're in luck, this girl doesn't mind being photographed from behind.|
All the while, Aimee's older sisters and she would come over to where I was working and see it taking shape and offer lovely words of encouragement. Yet, I could never have imagined how much Aimee would love it once it was finished.
I see all the flaws and the things that could be tweaked to make it look better and the hair that could be much more 'tamed', but Aimee loves it just the way it is, and isn't that a great lesson? To love wholly and completely in spite of any imperfections, both real and imagined?
I received a lovely comment on Instagram that praised my mothering efforts. I was so touched to read that because there are days when I feel like I get it all terribly wrong. Like this shining parenting moment in the holidays that my little artist also captured. It's fairly certain that no crochet dolls will be resulting from this picture.
Evidently, I must have some major anger side-effect issues that make not only my arms fall off but those of the child being disciplined. Or maybe it's a super power because it's a mighty fine excuse to not do any housework or cooking. Every picture of a sad child must also have at least one caricature of a smirking sibling enjoying the verbal tug-of-war. The thing is, I don't even remember what I was angry with her for and I bet she doesn't either, if you asked her. I might have missed the whole point of the picture. I haven't really. I will do my best to make sure that when I next convey my displeasure to one of my children that at the very least, my feet will be pointing in the right direction.
Let that be a lesson to us all.
Joining in with another fairy this week over here.