This little boy of ours LOVES to paint. I guess he takes after his Momma. I love painting and almost any medium. He too loves to draw, paint, color, and create. Don't all kids though? He loves finger paints, shaving cream, water colors, and even acrylics. I haven't let him use the oil paints yet. Maybe a few more months until we'll let the little artist try oils. He even likes concrete sculpture... and of course Play-doh. I'm thinking of getting some Sculpey clay and letting him make something to paint... Christmas ornaments, maybe?
As I type this, it's 9:07 pm and Gavin has been out of his room more than he's been in it in the last hour. I'm sitting in the big leather chair in the corner of the living room in the dark. I've sent him back to his room a thousand times already... okay maybe a hundred... well, at least six. He is currently laying across my lap, on top of my forearms, between my stomach and the laptop and he's growling and snarling in my face to try to get my attention. I'm ignoring him. Well, to him anyway. If only he could read what I'm typing. I'd type-growl back. As he would say, he's "rahring". It's kind of like roaring, but not exactly. "Rahr, rahr, raaaaahhhhr. Mom, I'm raaahring! Hear me, Mom? See me? I'm rahring!"
Grrr.... Good thing he's got this sweet, smiley, finger-paint and shaving cream face or I might get frustrated with him. Rahr!