Right now the outside of my fridge is a hot mess. There are times I open the fridge door only for papers and magnets to go flying off and roll away on the laminate flooring. As I stand watching the magnets roll, I smile. I picture how they got there and why one magnet was precariously holding 4 sheets of paper onto the fridge all by itself. I replay in my mind those tiny little fingers reaching up to the fridge, pulling down the magnet and hanging up artwork while proudly grinning ear to ear. My sweet Carter has everything to do with it. He has picked up on the fact that artwork is displayed on the fridge. He quietly goes to his craft table, pulls out scrap paper from the paper cubby, draws a picture, holds it up for me to see while explaining what he drew me. Then he stands up, walks to the fridge, and finds a place to hang his newest piece for us to marvel at. There are so many things that I love about this new routine he has created. I love that he feels his artwork is good enough and special enough to display. I love that he feels ownership over our home and feels the freedom to hang his drawings on the fridge. I love that he is creating art and telling stories to go along with what he has drawn. I enjoy watching his fine motor skills improve has he carefully handles magnets. I enjoy seeing him look at the fridge and puzzle over where to hang his next creation and which magnet he should use.
If you could come to my house and watch his little body staring and puzzling and hanging at the fridge I know it would bring you joy as well. I sit watching him and feel the warm fuzzies bubble up in my chest. This is my son who's creativity is blossoming. My son who feels important and special and loved. My son who knows I value his thoughts, his feelings, his drawings. But most of all, he's my son. He's my love. He's my everything, or at least a huge part of my everything. So many emotions for such a small act, but there are so many underlying things he is saying as he hangs his pictures and I love every single one of them. Every once in a while when it gets overcrowded and pictures fall down due to lack of room I pick them up and put them away, giving him more space to hang his newest creations. When there's only one or two pictures on the fridge it looks sad to me. I miss the pictures hanging all crooked and caddywhompus and just barely holding on. I miss the pictures accidentally hung with the drawing toward the fridge. I miss my son's voice. When I look at our fridge with pictures littering the bottom door, I hear his voice. I hear him saying what is in each picture as he points to circles and squiggles. I am so thankful he immediately pops up from drawing and hangs his picture on the fridge. I will miss it when he no longer wants to do it. I love this age, this stage, this boy. So here's a cheer to the art on my fridge. May it stay there for years to come!