scribblechic

Unstructured pleasure, the promise of creative expression.  Play-Doh and paint; Legos and Barbie; costumes and science experiments litter my house.  I stuff the evidence in cabinets, closets, and boxes, but they tumble free each day after school completely taking over my weekends.  These are the trappings of my children’s playtime.

I wonder when we first pack up our crayons and stow them away, too big to color outside the lines.  In restless moments my fingers itch with a need to create something new.  I call it dallying, this grown-up play; something smaller than a hobby and more fun for the spontaneous endeavor.

The crayons and paints of my childhood have turned into unfinished scrapbooks; Play-Doh has been replaced with unexamined recipes. I enlist my children as culinary cohorts and we stumble through a new recipe; stretching the tools and ingredients across the kitchen island we tinker together.   Some days I embrace a new recipe as an afterschool surprise, gifting my moment of frivolous fun.

Scrapbooking I leave unfinished, my pleasure is in the process. I purchase beautiful paper and embellishments with the same enthusiasm as my daughter selecting costume accessories.  My friends and I gather like children on a playground and settle into paper play.  I set down my work and absorb the directionless chatter, happy for the company.

I welcome these interruptions to my routine, then carefully pack away my toys.

Tagged: Play