I’m not saying I was bad…
In March the topic of raising peaceful children gave me yet another reason to dig into the crates for relics of my youth…
Children, little reminders of what we put our mothers and fathers through. I’m not a parent but I have a vivid memory of my childhood. I fear for my sanity shall I ever release a mini-me into the world. And if the kiddo is anything like mommy he or she will need lots of mental stimulation so everyone gets to see their next birthday.
I’m not saying I was bad; I wasn’t. I was quiet and always into something. My parents didn’t mind the silence, but they preferred I occupied my time with anything else but my mom’s jewelry and my dad’s toolbox. So once they figured out what kept me
out of their stuff tolerably busy, all was mostly well in the house.
Many of my current passions have foundations in those early days when mom and dad needed quiet time and sent me to my room.
I’d draw on my mother’s scratch paper so much she figured I should have my own supplies…
“That paper is for notes.” She said with a frown.
“That’s what I’m doing; taking notes.” Except my notes were doodles and scribbles that I felt gave the blank sheet some life.
Not long after that I received an art kit.
Activities that ignite the imagination and soothe restlessness are wonderful peace keepers. Nurturing your child’s interests gives him or her the sense that what they like it important. It gives them something exciting to focus on and explore. You never know, you just might be raising the next inventor of the best thing to happen to this world.
>>This post is courtesy of the randy prompts at B4Peace<<
Do yourself a flavor and get you some nice juicy PEACE. Your heart will thank you for it.