One child's art is another parent's clutter...

I have lost my refridgerator. I know it's here somewhere...I remember stocking it with beer not that long ago. It's white....and I know my toddler can find it, because she manages to find the pudding snack cups, and fill her Tinkerbell tea cups with water from the water dispenser. It is buried somewhere beneath the many photographs of the children, the certificates and math papers with high scores circled in red ink, artwork my son has brought home, the large pieces of construction paper decorated in puffy paint, and potty training charts. There is the shopping list I forgot to take with me on the last trip to the store (macaroni and cheese...I knew I forgot something,) and the Star Wars magnet...along with the one that says "More Cowbell." The bright alphabet letter magnets are holding up papers colored on with markers, and phone numbers to various friends scribbled in a way that is only legible to my preteens. Every last inch is covered. Which would not be a problem if the artwork already adorning it were the only precious pieces of artwork the kids bring to me.

My sister-in-law brought over all the ingredients to make puffy paint. This newly discovered form of entertainment has become second only to Wii Fit for my poor, socially deprived toddler. Every day she wakes up, looks at me with bright, cheerful eyes, and asks, "you make puffy paint?" Being suprisingly less messy than the previous favorite art activity, Moonsand, I give in. I grimace as I look at the fridge...and the dishwasher, now also adorned in puffy paint artwork....and the end of the counter, where yesterday's projects are now sitting, finally dry.

My eleven-year-old, not to be outdone, has started tacking up any schoolwork in which she has earned a grade higher than a "C." I am running out of options. As the toddler naps, a few papers "accidentally" fall into the trash. I cannot believe how guilty I feel. I try to remember that they will be replaced promptly the next day.

I'm beginning to wonder what my kitchen will look like when the twins get big enough to express their artistic side. Man...I think I need something to drink. I'd better ask Irelynn if she wants some pudding so she can find the fridge for me...