Fergus: The Artist?

Fergus is totally a puppy.  You can't walk without having a little head attached to your shoe.  He is always ON. Full speed. 100 miles an hour. OR he is off. You know, in a puppy coma.  Every day when he wakes up he is SO happy!  Every day is the BEST DAY OF HIS WHOLE LIFE!  Every food is the best food he has ever tasted, even if it is just dirt.  You have to admire that puppy attitude.  If we could ALL be that happy, think how awesome our world would be.

And puppies are not scared to try new things, either.
Fergus is willing to do anything. 
Make a break for the street?  Sure!
Climb in the tub to try and get the water off your feet after your shower?  Sounds like fun! 
Attack that plant in the flower bed?  Awesome!
Bark at the strange puppy in the mirror?
Arf!!  Arf!! Arf!! Arf!!
Jump from the couch to the coffee table?  Yeesssss... Ouch.
Try jumping from the couch to the coffee table again?  Okaaayyy...  Ouch! 
Try jumping from the couch to the coffee table again? 
No, Fergus!

So when I noticed his recent interest in the arts, I tried to encourage it, while also keeping a close eye on him.  One man's paintbrush is another dog's snack.

He helped Jessa work on her poster for Student Council:

And he is totally willing to try any medium. 
Pencil on the poster board, of course.

Markers are always a fun choice.

 

Or colored pencils:

He seems to like yellow.  Bright and sunny, like his personality.

 And then there are crayons, these are his favorite...

Y'all, I couldn't figure out where he was getting these tools for his "artwork."  I would come home and there were crayons bits of crayon all over the place. 

He is carefully choosing his color.  Is it pink enough?  Too pink?  Is it Blush or Bashful?

So one evening, I found him chewing on a crayon.  I know I should encourage him and nurture his gift, but I hate when he devours his tools, so I took the crayon and threw it away. 

He was not the least bit upset.  So when he walked away, I followed him and discovered his "stash."  A cup of writing and coloring utensils from Spencer's desk had fallen.  They were spilled everywhere on the floor under his desk, but the chair was pushed in!  I couldn't even see the tools, but Fergus could.  I would take one away, and he would simply go back to his hidden treasure and choose another color.  I have now moved the utensils.  I am trying to control how much of his time he spends creating.  I want a well-rounded puppy, after all.

Now, when he got out the paintbrush, I had to draw the line at fetching him some paint.

This is not staged.  I promise!

Before I close, may I take this opportunity to give a shout out to Crayola for keeping it real, keeping it colorful, and most importantly, keeping it non-toxic.

You can't rush art

My children are FULL of funny one-liners these days. When I took Spencer to the doctor to confirm that he had the H1N1, like his sister, he was NOT. HAPPY. He fussed at me the whole way there - even telling me that if I made him go that he was not going to give me any more kisses. That is a serious threat. But I took my chances and made him go anyway. He was pitiful and shy and traumatized the whole time. But while we were waiting on the snot card to turn flu or not flu, he perked up some. And when we were walking to the car, he was sucking away on his sucker and wearing his Bob the Builder sticker. I said, "See, son, it was not that bad. No one hurt you. There were no shots. I told you it was not going to be bad." And he grinned from ear to ear, cut his eyes at me and with a wave of his hand said, "piece a cake!" I refrained from pinching him and stifled my giggles.

So the other night, we were carving pumpkins. I was happy to have David AND Bay to help us. After last year, when the children whined and said that I was not doing it right, I was happy that the pumpkin carving team was with us once again. We always try to wait until the week of Halloween because we all know how gross and rotten pumpkins can become, right? Of course, it is not as dangerous here where the temps are cooler, but I still like to have pretty punkins as long as possible.

Anyway.

Jessa drew a picture of what she wanted. She also wanted to add make-up. Yep. Make-up. Spencer selected the features he wanted from an array that I had drawn. Of course, once the guts were scooped, they both decided that they wanted to draw their ideas directly onto the pumpkin. This was all OK because I gave them washable markers. I also put the Windex on the table so that they could clean off any boo-boos. Well, this turned into a full-fledged, old-fashioned pumpkin scrubbin'. I am pretty sure that Martha Stewart would have even been proud of the sparkling clean pumpkins we had.

So Bay was working with Spencer, a pumpkin, and a three-year old vision of what he wanted the pumpkin to be. Poor Spencer was not feeling 100%, so he was somewhat impatient when Bay did not capture his vision accurately. But in the end, they were both pleased with how it turned out.

Then there was David and Jessa. She being our dramatic girl was feverishly working on transferring her ideas onto the canvas that was her pumpkin. David was just sitting there after de-gutting, waiting on the princess to complete the outline she was making for him. It was starting to get late, so David finally said something to try and hurry her along and then she looked at him indignantly, sighed, and announced, "You can't rush art." Alrighty then.

Jessa posing with her artistic creation.

I am sure you would agree we should not have tried to rush it.

In the end, her pumpkin was cute, too. And did I mention they were both really clean?

AND since I am NEVER in any pictures, I decided to remedy that.

So, enjoy, well, ME!

*And please notice how overjoyed all of my family members are to be in a picture with me.

It really warms the cockles of you heart.

Ah, treasured memories.

We may need to frame some of these babies.

Feel the love.