Scribble Me This, Scribble Me That...

My kids love to color. Abby is especially good at it, and she spends most of her days at the coloring table making pictures for my office wall, for her friends, for Mommy to put on the fridge, and for any sick people she may know about. (She just did about 5 or 6 for Jen's grandpa, who's in the hospital). Drew loves to color too, but most of the time he just dumps out all the crayons and breaks them into the smallest pieces possible. I think it's a boy thing.

But beyond coloring pictures on paper, they like to display their artwork in other, um, unsanctioned areas. Like our dining room walls, kitchen cabinets and on the walls in the hallway. If you come to dinner at our place you'll be surrounded by Abby and Drew originals.

I know the sentimental thing to say is that sooner than I care to believe, I'll wish my kids were still young enough to be writing on the walls with crayons instead of writing term papers in college. And I know that's true. But it's almost just as painful now to even think about that. They need to learn where they can and can't color, for sure. And we're teaching them as much as we can.

They're growing up fast. I weep inside when I realize it. And as much as I try to avoid the painful thoughts of them one day walking out our door as adults, times like this remind me it's going to happen. It's inevitable. It's God's plan.

I think we'll take some pictures of the walls before the Magic Eraser does its thing. So one day we can remember when.