If this framed triptych doesn't say "first time parent," I don't know what does.
When Paige was a toddler, I was constantly amazed that a sentient being had originated (in part) deep within the balls that a dude mindlessly scratches every morning while staring into space, and was later able to create things like this incredible work of art.
So we framed it and hung it on the wall.
I'm not saying this isn't cool. But let's face it: Picasso it is not. It's a dozen acrylic paint brush strokes made by a 22 month-old. And at the time, I had no idea how much "art" would ultimately come home with my kids, nor did I realize that due to its sheer volume, I'd be forced to make quite a bit of it art history.
That's just the way it goes: it's like seeing a bison in Yellowstone or an eagle in Alaska. They're super cool, especially the first time you see one. You're in awe and you want to document it from every angle for posterity.
But pretty soon you realize bison and eagles are everywhere and you can't possibly worship every single one. So they begin to lose a bit of their luster, especially when they crap all over your car while you're parked at the dump (eagles, not bison, that is).
Familiarity breeds contempt, as the saying goes.
Which is why when my kids claim to have "worked really hard" on something I'm about to throw away, I view their assertions with skepticism.
To take just one of many examples, it's been a week, and it's time to throw out the cardboard dinosaur habitat you guys made and that's been the featured centerpiece of our kitchen table since last Sunday. "Can we throw this out now?", I'll ask, already knowing the answer:
"BUT WE WORKED REALLY HARD ON THAT!!!"
No, no you didn't. It took you fifteen minutes. I literally watched you make "that" out of old boxes and moss from start to finish. You created this thing in the time between when I put Annie's shells in white cheddar on the stove to boil and when I mixed it up into a bowl for lunch. I know that perception is reality, but the reality is you did not "work really hard" on that POS. We've kept it for a week. That's more than enough time for this item to exist in my house.
When you go to medical school and become a surgeon, then you can tell me you "worked really hard" on something. Until then, sorry, but you're gonna have to find another home for T-Rex.