On a child's insatiable creativity

I like my red stockings the best.
My mom says, "Wear these. Your white stockings look good with that dress."
But I can jump higher in my red stockings.

I like my red jacket the best.
My mom says, "You need to wear your blue jacket. It's too cold out for your red jacket."
But how can I be Red Riding Hood in my blue jacket?

I like my red barrettes the best.
My mom says, "You wear pink barrettes with a pink dress."
But my red barrettes make my hair laugh.

I like red paint the best.
My mom says, "But, Kelly, there is hardly any red paint left. Maybe you could use orange instead."
But red paint puts singing in my head.

~ 'Red is Best' - Kathy Stinson

As most of you know, I have the privilege of taking care of a pair of five year old twins, boy and girl, once a week for that fabulous woman who just celebrated her birthday. They also happen to live above me, therefore it's quite convenient, (and who doesn't want a break from twins?). They are two curious, adventurous, inventive, adorable, and heart-warming kids :) Yes, I'm quite taken. There is a point to this blurb - I ran across this story-time book this evening when I was asked to read it to them before bedtime. I began reading and absolutely fell in love with it. What an incredibly simple example of a child's creative capabilities.

I had a ridiculously creative mind as a child - not surprising given my obsession with Harry Potter and anything from Pixar - but I don't entirely believe it was nourished. I was forced into sports, group extra-curricular activities such as bowling (i know), and other events that didn't satisfy my thirst or encourage creativity. I found it hard to assimilate into the 'team atmosphere'. Eventually, when my parents got the damn hint, I was allowed to join gymnastics, ballet (although i quit because the teacher called me fat, a whole other story, but i was quite plump in all honesty), and other activities that encouraged me to decide for myself, not listen to someone scream at me from across a baseball field or skating rink.

I realize how hard it was for my parents, specifically an OHL-playing father, to accept that I wasn't cut out for group sports. Once they realized there was no coercing me (maybe with chocolate), they began taking me on weekend trips to the library, I became a Brownie, joined gymnastics, and really enjoyed swimming. My brother became ridiculously active in sports, so that satisfied my dads need to watch from the sidelines. Unfortunately, that wasn't my style.

Looking back on my childhood, I realize I fell in "the Big Divide", but I chose where I landed.

Peach Love :)