I picked up my son from pre-school recently and when we got home it was routine as usual; he took off his shoes, went potty, washed his hands and got ready for an afternoon snack while I unloaded the backpack.
I like to be the one unloading the backpack because it gives me a chance to sort through the parent notices, clean out his lunch bag and organize the work folder. You see, my son is four years-old and he brings home 9,000 pieces of art, colored papers and worksheets and it ALL comes home. If I kept every single slice of work he’s ever created my refrigerator door would not even be able to open. So I came up with a little organization technique that I like to call The Swap: When I hang up a “new” piece of work one comes down and ultimately lands in the garbage (without him seeing of course) which is my way of keeping this kind of clutter under control.
However, on this recent de-clutter fest I made an epic mistake. As I was sifting through his work folder {routine as usual} I grabbed a piece of work and quickly placed in the trash. Since I was about to throw the entire trash bag out, I knew my son wouldn’t see it but I was soon distracted by my daughter and forgot about it…
Before I knew it my son went to throw out the wrapper from his snack and that’s when he saw V is for Violets sitting beneath some wet chicken and rice.
And then the tears came.
“But I can’t ever make it again. I made it for you Mommy and now it’s ruined,” he muttered as he continued to cry.
My heart was broken. Words can’t express how I felt at that moment as I watched my four year-old crushed by the revelation that his mommy just trashed his beautiful art work. Obviously my son was really upset so I tried to explain that mommy made a grave mistake and that it would not happen again. I tried to divert his attention to the other 8,999 pieces of art hanging up on the fridge that we could admire…
“No, I picked it for you because I told my teacher that purple is your favorite color and now it’s ruined.” {I may be blonde, but I still wasn’t making the FULL connection here to this specific piece of work}
“What do you mean you picked it for me?”
My son ran into our mud room and grabbed a plant from the bottom of a bag. He said, “This is for you Mommy…for Mommy’s Day.”
Now it began to make sense. The V is for Violets artwork went along with my Mother’s Day plant that he picked out at school all by himself knowing it was my favorite color.
Epic fail.
I reached into the garbage and wiped the chicken and rice off the top of the construction paper and told my son that it was the best piece of art work he’s ever done, especially for me – and that I love it and I love him to pieces. I kissed his forehead, wiped away his tears and told him how sorry mommy was and from that moment forward anything that is super special will go into a “super special folder” and anything that gets thrown out would have to meet his approval first. With tons more kisses and hugs, he seemed to like that plan.
So now?
I gladly hide the side of my fridge with 9,001 pieces of art because I never want to make that kind of mistake again.
Because V is for Violets and L is for a Lesson Learned.















