Where Does the Carrot Go?

Last Thursday morning Kate and I were hanging out when she told me she wanted to go to the Library. I clairified by having her indicate her preference for the "Train Library" (Matthews) or the "Game Library" (Independence Regional). She gave an enthusiastic "Train!", so off to the Matthews library we went. While we were there we ran into one of Ashton's old classmates and her mom (A.). A. suggested we check out the only story hour Matthews offers which you don't have to book a month in advance, happening in 10 minutes. Kate seemed up to it so in we went!

I will say the storyteller must have meant well, but she came off as pretty rigid for a group of 2-4 year olds, always "shush-ing" them and the parents as well. We did have fun dancing and singing in between several stories, but the really interesting part came during the arts & crafts time.

Each child received a blank sheet of colored paper and a zip lock baggie full of the parts of a snowman, (hat, two arms, carrot nose and eyes.) with a glue stick. Kate seemed pretty comfortable holding the glue stick and I just handed her the parts, one by one. She seemed very intent on what she was doing and placed everything where she liked it. She had two arms on one side, the hat covered the face and the carrot looked more like a weird growth coming out of it's neck, but she loved it and showed it proudly to me. I was so amazed that she managed the glue stick all by herself and worked diligently on it, I didn't pay attention to much of anything else.

After a while, the story teller rounded up the empty plastic bags and glue sticks. We were then told there'd be one last song and we should hold our snowman's out in front of us as we danced. As the music played I glanced around the circle, ready to admire each child's work. Now, here's the kicker...every snowman was perfect. I'm not talking about 1 or 2, but every snowman except Kate's had the eyes where they should be, nose right in place and one arm on each side. All I could think about at first while the music played is "Kate and/or I messed up. Why is our snowman different?" But then my thoughts turned to astonishment at what I was seeing. There was no way that 15-20 two-four year olds would produce such perfect snow people on their own. No way.

So, what does this mean? That we, as mothers, have such an obsession with perfection that it rears its' ugly head even during a library art & craft session? Does it mean we are robbing our children of their independence and creative process as we buckle under conformity? What is wrong with imperfection and who's to say a snow person should have one arm per side? Or does it simply mean the other children have had more exposure to snow and what snow people generally look like than Kate's southern self? What does it mean...I don't know.

What would you have done? Directed your child and supervised, fixing it for them as the project went along? Or let them have a go at it, building their own version of a snow person?

I tell you what I do know, after the story time let out Kate was the only child I saw carrying her snow person with her, displaying it proudly to anyone who's attention she could catch. The vast majority of the others ended up very neatly piled on the top of the trash can. Next time I may suggest one arm per side, but only once and only if she looks puzzled.