Obsessed?: Let your children be creative

We’re all crazy about something or the other

Every time I see other parents giving their kids all sorts of mental, physical, and spiritually-stimulating opportunities and realise that all we do in this house is peel paint off the walls, I vow to broaden our horizons.

We haven’t begun school around here yet, but I think I’m going to go ahead and enrol my offspring in some courses for gifted children.

Here are a few I think they would shine in: Advanced Juice-Spilling, Interrupting for the Disruptionally-Gifted, Intermediate Annoyance Techniques, Practical Applications of Starvation, Senior Seminar in Sibling Abuse, Effortless Laptop-Destroying for the Expert.

It just makes sense to give the kids all of the academic advantages we possibly can — after all, Beta has long been throwing tantrums at a Sixth-Grade level and Beti astounded us recently with her mastery of The Bye-bye Wave (available for viewing even at 2 am, when, should you crack open an eye upon feeling the bed moving, you will see a fat little person-shaped blob sitting up, half-asleep, diligently practicing her farewell flapping.)

The girl is obsessed with it and it is ruining what little sleep I get.

What is it with kids and developing obsessions around everything? I’m never sure what little thing that I allow the kids to do one time will translate into a full-blown mania.

For instance, when Beta was sick a few days ago but still interested in his writing and colouring, he would put his head down on his arm while he worked.

It was an endearing picture of childhood misery and I understood how stuffy his head must feel for him to want to rest it like that.

But now, Beta’s all better and he still can’t write a single line, letter or dot without first putting his head down. It’s sort of driving me crazy.

And then there’s the issue of the paper: my son can work his way through reams the way I can work my way through ice-cream.

There’s no expected end in sight; it’s just a matter of somebody else deciding for you that you’ve probably had enough.

Every piece of paper he comes across — including Baba’s Very Important Office Paper — gets scribbled on with rows and rows of letters followed by rows and rows of numbers.

“Kaam!” Beta says exasperatedly when I ask him what he’s doing. I consider forcing him to stop: I think about conservation and trees and wastefulness and consistency and discipline.

But I don’t say anything.

Because I’m also thinking about creativity and free play and letting genius thrive in an intellectually rich environment. See, when he’s working with all that paper, Beta is a little man with a big vision. He has great works in mind, theories of alphabetisation to pursue.

If I keep curtailing his activities because he’s not using the paper as I see fit, won’t I be doing some sort of disservice?

Didn’t Picasso say something to the effect that every child is an artist but the problem is staying an artist when you grow up?

If it seems like I am justifying his behaviour, it’s because I am. Maybe because I feel a sense of magnanimity in giving him free rein in these endeavours.

Maybe because I dread the tantrum that would ensue if I enforce some curtailing measures. Maybe because I know, that I would go absolutely nuts myself if Hums suddenly said to me, “Today you can read one article online, but then that’s it.”

It’s just so clear to me that Beta can’t help himself.

He can’t not write on a piece of paper that he sees — the same way that I can’t not eat a piece of chocolate you left lying around, even if you asked me please not to.

I guess I should deal with my own set of obsessions first. Are there any courses for that?

Hiba Masood is a stay-at-home mother to 3-year-old Beta and 7-month-old Beti. Writing about parenting affords her time away from actually doing it.

Published in The Express Tribune, Ms T, November 4^th, 2012.

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