These are days...

These days are good days. We have had some house guests, yes, 4 extra people in our 2 bedroom apartment. It has been good. I like having other people around, it keeps me on top of my game, doing the best job I can at both parenting and housekeeping. I like that accountability. I have enjoyed cooking for them, too. A year ago I might have found the prospect a bit daunting, but this has been great. Three year old Lillie turned to me last night in the middle on the meal and said, "Aunt Emowee, you make the best dinnuh fowever (dinner forever)". There's nothing like a sincere child's compliment.

Tonight was a little rough. Not with our guests, but with my own kids. Each one suffered a spell of nasty attitude and had to bear the consequences of it. I was ok with the older two, but little Jude just somehow broke my heart. Perhaps it's a matter of his being so little, so I am unsure of what he really can process... but mostly I think that I just lost my temper with him, and so responded more severely than the situation really warranted. And I HATE that. It's not who I want to be, not ever. Of course, he forgives so liberally. Putting him to bed, I sang to him, "he who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the Shadow of the Lord", and when he lifted his head off my shoulder to kiss me when I was done, he immediately pointed to the tears on my cheeks, "dat", "dat" (that), and took the silky corner of his little beloved pillow, and wiped them away. What a sweet little manling, not even two yet, caring for me in such a sweet and simple way. Sigh.

Tomorrow. A day with no mistakes in it. If only my mistakes were due to overindulgence in daydreams, like Anne Shirley's, and not fits of temper. Ah, well, that's what grace is for. And I am thankful for it.

really?

October has come and gone with nary a blog post from me. Huh. That happened ridiculously fast. I have been spending most of my internet time tending my etsy shop and communicating briefly with people about basic, day to day items. Not much surfing the web, leisurely reading up on the doings of distant friends, or really anything other than the most practical of transactions.

Working on numerous little projects, working at the frame shop once a week, taking care of the small people who need me. Trying to stay up on the laundry, trying to do more than just tread water. This in itself has been a challenge, but I am finding that I may be emerging from a bit of a fog into what could be better days. More days that contain a purpose that I acknowledge. This is life right now, and though I have been letting it fly through my fingers a bit too quickly, I am starting to feel equipped again to engage my whole self.

I was supposed to post this on Saturday night

So lets pretend it is Saturday, and not Tuesday, ok? I guess it doesn't really matter; let's face it, I get tired and the days run together...

I was happy to be going off to work. I think I was a little euphoric actually, feeling like one of the workforce, capable and confident, not to mention dressed smartly. I got to the car and thought I had left without my phone, which is a cardinal sin, of course. That euphoric feeling is starting to fade, 'cause now I'm gonna be late. So I pulled up to the house, and ran back in, grabbed Dan's phone, called mine, and ran frantically around the house, listening for my ring. Nothing. I guess it's in the car. Back out to the car, waving again to the sweet little honeys on the porch, and while waving, I go to sit and smack my nose hard on the top of the car doorway. Feeling lost.

But I love my drive to work, I really do. It calmed me right down. Rolling hills, and the thundering swell of Mumford and Sons. Passing fields, forests, over a covered bridge. seriously, this is one idyllic ride. Past Granogue, the last lived-in duPont estate in DE that I know of. As a kid I would listen in on my teenaged sister Christine, and her two close friends talking about how Irenee duPont was single, and quite the eligible bachelor; how perhaps they would come across him at Brandywine Creek State Park, which in my mind resembled the wild English moors of Wuthering Heights. Undoubtedly he would fall in love with one of them...

Their romantic discussions inspired me to dream about what fairytale possibilities awaited me.

It's funny to think about, I don't know if I ever have before, but I don't think I would disappoint my child dreamer self with the actuality of my life. As a child, my wonderings and dreamings of the future were about the people who would be there with me, my husband and children, never the things I would have, or the house that I would live in. And in that, I was right on. It is enough of a fairytale to me that when I first really noticed Dan, a voice in my head said,

"Dan Costa. You're going to marry him."

A thought I immediately dismissed as ludicrous, especially when I discovered that he was dating a friend of mine. But I wasn't the only one who knew I was going to marry him. A good friend later told me that she knew it too. Don't worry, though, this voice in my head was years before we actually got to know one another and began dating, and there were no other parties involved when we finally found each other. And while we're talking about fairytales, I really have the three most lovely little dears in the world, Jude, Genevieve, and Rowan. That Jude, when he finally gets me up in the morning, laughs like I just told him the best joke when I struggle up out of bed and tell him "good morning". And these two little affectionate ladies. Such honey pies.

I will leave you with a delightful little anecdote from Saturday morning: Genevieve woke Dan up by putting something is his ear. As you can imagine, this was not well received. After everyone calmed down, we explained to Vivi that putting things in people's ears was dangerous, and then we asked her what exactly she put in Dan's ear. silence. We asked again.

"Rowan's boogie, that she wiped on the bed. I didn't want it there!" So she found a better place for it? Always an adventure.

oh, it's been a while!

So, yes, I am back. finally.

It has been hard for me to take the time to write here, but I do really care about recording things...

Lately:

1. I have been trying to make time for projects of an artsy nature, be it knitting, drawing, or making flowery head gear. I have been enjoying it, but it has not so far generated much income. However, I have just started back to work 1 day a week. So a bit of income shall be generated, by hook or by crook!

2. I have been trying to be a patient mother, really really applying myself to this task. James says that "the anger of man accomplishes nothing", and I have been taking this to heart. My children are so precious, and they are so young and tender, and yes, they have sinful natures, but they also have so much innocence. I want to preserve and protect that, while still training them to do what is right. I second-guess myself a lot with parenting, but I guess it's better to reexamine oneself than to be overconfident, right?

3. I am trying to be healthier. This is hard for me, as I am not naturally organized with my time (for exercise) or particularly prone to eating healthfully. baby steps.

There you have a list of my new(ish) ventures. I just enjoy lists, they give me a false sense of order!

I had a surprise visit from my sister in law Cheree, and my niece Lillie. This was lovely, and the three small girls had a great time together, playing "ice cream truck"and "I can't find my arms", and I had a great time sitting on the porch, knitting, watching their Irish-pale legs flashing in the sunlight and they ran and tricycled about. 3 year old imaginations are hilarious. Jude displayed his strength to the female population by generally being rough and shoving and pinching whenever possible. We are working on that.

Yes, I have started back to work. I love my job. Picture framing, that is. I can't tell you how wonderful it is to do this again. To go somewhere in the car, and stay there all day without having to be responsible for anyone but myself. To finish a project efficiently, and then be done with it, not having anyone undo it a minute later! To know that I am good at this. Unequivocally. I don't have to think about it, it comes naturally, easily. This is the only place that I have ever been able to multi-task; I know women are supposed to have this gift, but I never have! But at the frame shop, I can juggle several tasks, and I am quite pleased with myself. With mothering my kids, I am not so confident. I do think that I am good at it, but it's different. Perhaps because there is so much more riding on it - the health and safety (both emotional and physical) of another individual. Three individuals!

And last, but not least, I do have more of the Pink Cloud story written, but I am missing a middle bit and the ending. Query: do windmills generate wind? I do understand what they are used for, that they harness the winds power to create energy, but still, they look like fans. Do they act like fans, too, and blow air at all? It's pertinent to the story. :)

a rough draft of the first section of a children's story that I am working on...

The Pink Cloud

Princess Clementine was a very fortunate little girl. She lived in a castle, for one thing. And she had a lovely bedroom, full of the things that most little girls love. She had a great big bed with a canopy, all white and flowy, where she could hide away and pretend. She had dolls of every size and age, from delicate little dollhouse people, to a nearly life-size doll that had it's own dresses to match Clementine's. She had wonderful books and toys, and paints, and colored pencils, and dress-up clothes. She had a Mother, who was the Queen, and a Father, who was the King, and a baby sister, and they all loved her. Clementine loved them, too, and you might think that she would always be happy and well behaved, and while most of the time she was, she had her moments of discontent as well.

Clementine loved to climb up into her window seat and daydream. Most days she would spend an hour or two there, watching the clouds, or the birds, or just thinking. She would look down on the little garden where she grew her favorite flowers, and she would look up at the sky and at the pink cloud that always seemed to be hovering nearby. This cloud really was always pink, it was quite odd. Even on clear days, it became nearly white, but still it remained the palest, most delicate pink. When the sun began to set, it would get all purpley and sometimes even orange on it's edges, but ever the pink remained. When it rained down on Clementine's little garden, it became quite grayish, but a decidedly pinky gray. It was a beautiful cloud, fluffy and soft-looking, and Clementine loved it.

Who knows what planted the idea in Princess Clementine's head, but one day she woke up, just knowing that she had to have that pink cloud. It wasn't enough that she could watch it from her window each day; she wanted for her own. In her bedroom. She wanted to sleep on it, play on it, jump off of it, and into it. The pink cloud was all she could think about. So when her Father, the King, came into Clementine's room one morning, and asked her what she might like for her birthday, she didn't have to think about it at all. "that cloud, Daddy!" she said, "the pink one outside my window - I want to have it here, in my room, please." The King scratched his head, finding his daughter's request very strange, but he saw the sincerity in her eyes, and set off to find out how he might get a cloud out of the sky.

luna moth

So my kiddies found a luna moth in the day time, which was wonderful. I got some pictures and got right to work. I love luna moths, not so much other moths. There is something about them... yeah something..... it's really not all that hard to figure out. They're huge, pale green, and simply incredible. I am unsure why I like these cropped images so much, but I do. They are actually whole moths. I did a bunch of drawings, 3 of which I was happy enough with to list on my etsy shop. I challenged myself a wee bit, using permanent ink and no pencil whatsoever, so any mistakes I made, I just had to find a way to live with them. It was fun.

I've got a quiet moment here, so, voila!

at this very moment, I am singing "blogger" over and over to myself, to the tune of the old Batman theme. its fun.

at this moment, my sweet husband is out of the house, and with him are the two little girls that we love best in the world. They are creek stomping in polka dotted rain boots and bathing suits, and I am smiling to myself, because they make quite a picture with their curls pulled up off of their small necks, stomping along, hand in hand with Daddy. And also because I am alone with the quiet, and my sleepy boy is in his bed, looking like a cherub.

I am feeling pretty good, because I've been making things. Making things, and trying to photograph said things to try and get my etsy shop up and running. Sheesh! I am having the hardest time! Just getting pictures taken, loaded, chosen, writing things like my profile, shop policies, etc. It's just way more time consuming than I expected, and I am sort of embarrassed and self-conscious about the whole process. I am really enjoying the photography part of this, though, but I am a little concerned about the fact that some of my favorite pictures contain images that are most likely the property of someone else. I guess I will have to do a little more research, because I don't want to get in trouble. But here are a few of my headbands on the covers of some favorite books.

the good, the bad, and the six-legged

I am sitting on the porch, enjoying the breeze, well more like wind, as my porch has been designed somehow to be akin to a wind tunnel... at any rate, this is the first really nice day all week, in fact, it is so beautiful that we are all on our best behavior.

Yesterday was a vastly different day - lots of whining, a terrifying grocery store display of bad behavior, gray skies, gloomy feelings. Dan and I have been discussing at length the reasons for said behavior, and I think that when we put our heads together, we can manage to be good parents, insightful even. Implementing our plan upon wake up this morning, I think we have seen real improvement in at least one of our children, who has been having a difficult time lately. Now, it doesn't take a genius to figure out the strategy that we are putting to work here, it just takes a little time and genuine concern for our kid's well-being. And maybe the weather has had a bit to do with the happy attitudes today. (disclaimer: I don't mean to say that if you are having problems with a child that aren't being easily solved, you don't genuinely care. I am just talking about one specific situation)

As a side note, Genevieve is cradling a rather large beetle like it's the love of her life, picking it up, watching it's legs wiggle, and she's smiling down at it, with the particular expression that she reserves for objects of her affection. Mom, the bug loves me, cause it's hugging me! oh dear. Ok, mommy, suck it up and don't recoil in horror...

We just spent the better part of 2 hours at the playground, and it was wonderful to actually feel like I could just sit and relax for some of it. The girls were playing some variation of -Help me, I'm sliding into the mud/ I'm getting flushed down the toilet/ The sharks are getting me- on the tunnel slide, and Jude was enjoying climbing up and down the stairs and ramp by himself, and running on the bouncy bridge. I found a random bottle of nail polish in the bag, and proceeded to paint my toe nails. The nail polish happened to be black. So now I have gothic toes, and no one can accuse me of having lost my edge. Alright, so no one has accused me of that - come to think of it, no one has ever accused me of having an edge in the first place... but I now officially have one. It's on my toes.

a weekend at the week's start

Well, thank you ever so much to our 4 wonderful and caring parents, for taking all three of our small people for two whole nights. We still have our time to ourselves until dinner tonight, and to be quite honest, it's a little strange!

But we have been enjoying ourselves fully. It helps knowing that the kids are with people that they adore, people that they ask for everyday, and even pretend to be in their hilarious games of make-believe, people who are explicitly trust-worthy.

Sunday night we went to see Robin Hood, which was very enjoyable. I mean, gorgeous volleys of arrows, falling like lethal rain, huge french flags floundering at the bottom of the ocean, and love growing out of respect and mutual consideration... how can it not be enjoyable? I would love to find out more about the history of this character, at the turn of the 12th century.

Monday, we spent our day walking the streets of Philadelphia. Not exotic in any way, but we love the city, it feels like home. We brought our lunch, and watched people. We wandered in and out of some of our favorite shops, and browsed some antique stores. Leisurely things that you just can't enjoy with 3 toddlers in tow. Then we had an incredibly great dinner of mussels, beer, and amazing sandwiches. Seriously overstuffed, we wandered around for a bit longer, stared up at our favorite art deco buildings, and made our way back to the train. At home, we snuggled into bed with another movie. Having Jude's crib in our room, this is a luxury we don't often enjoy. And all that walking took it's toll, because we promptly fell asleep.

Dan starts a new job this week, and this is a wonderful development. He will hopefully get up in the morning, and do work that he loves with people he loves. And while his hours will still be long, it will be better, because he will be where he belongs.

Mommy vs. Emily

Sooooo, there is this problem that I'm having, with my time. I've never been one to use it well. I am disorganized and easily distracted (might have something to do with all the distractions lying around unorganized). I am jumping in a little too quickly to projects... I am allowing them to consume my mind. I need to find a balance, and concentrate fully on being a mother at times, without giving up on the things that make me feel creatively challenged, and use other parts of my brain. we are trying to revamp our financial process, if you will, spend our money differently, with more awareness, and this has inspired me to move my derriere, and start up a little etsy shop, where I can possibly begin to contribute a small amount to the bank account.

Don't get me wrong, it's a lot of fun to make an object with no idea where it might end up. Of course, it could just stay in my laundry room and get moldy. But the possibilities are fun to consider. At any rate, I tend to get obsessed, and that's when I start to let Emily time cross over into Mommy time. The kids hate that. Unless I let them help... but needle and thread, knitting needles, and fine point ink pens are just not toddler friendly. And computers... even now they are trying to dodge my hand and hit the power button. Stinkers! But I do get it, they want Mommy, so who am I to refuse them?

I am quite excited by my simple little projects... little hats, pretty headbands, and also small drawings, starting with some alphabet prints (single letters with an old fashioned illustration). I'll post some pictures soon.

might I have a bit of earth?

Ok, so it's not the secret garden, since it's on our porch steps and all, but we did enjoy the little bit of container planting we did yesterday...

We are pretty late to be planting seeds, I think - but who knows, really, cause gardening has never been my hobby. But if these little flowers and herbs can manage to flourish, who knows? Success can be addictive, maybe next year I'll be hanging strawberries in baskets and growing melons up the wall. This year, though, we will start small. Tomatoes, basil, dill, and some flowers. It's more a matter of wanting my kids to be involved in something productive and fun, and a really big project could just get left in the dust, because I get overwhelmed easily.

Rowan, poised and ready for the signal to pat down the dirt.

Genevieve scratches the seed with a file to aid in germination. That's what the seed envelope said to do...

Watering fun, with my new orange watering can!

Rowan took this picture, and I love it, cropping, composition, everything. Toes!

Rowan took this one, too, not bad!

Ok, I just yelled at my daughter for disobeying after several quiet-but-firm reminders, and I can hear her talking to Jesus about how she feels in the other room. Guilty or not guilty? Guilty, I guess. I should have just given her a consequence and stayed calm, but man! their stubborn refusal to obey a simple command when their mind is made up differently just gets under my skin.. aaaargh. I had better go make peace.

my Strawberry Shortcakes (and actual muffins)

I love when my girls help me to make better decisions. Like taking a close up of the strawberry muffins we just made, instead of trying to fit them all in... much better, thank you, Genevieve! On the other hand, I really hate when I allow myself to get worn down and harried by constant nagging and whining (the whining mostly from the smallest boy in our household). That is when I make extremely poor decisions, like allowing the girls to participate in the placing of pasta into boiling water, which resulted in one of my sweet girls burning herself pretty badly. Generally, they are not allowed to bring chairs to the stove. Who really knows why sometimes the rules go out of the window? At any rate, she is ok, just a burned hand and a really nasty blister. I, on the other hand, am feeling pretty guilty. But also confident that I make rules that make sense, and will not allow myself to feel insecure or doubtful of my choices, no matter what other parents may choose for their own offspring.

I love these little people, so much that it hurts. In a good way. They are really tough to deal with sometimes, but really, they bring me so much joy, and I have to remind myself, on the days when I feel like I really miss my old full-time job , that the sort of satisfaction I get from a project completed, or a client made happy, is nothing compared to the pure sweetness of love given and received, of lessons learned and true growth accomplished.

So the other day we were outside for the purpose of blowing tiny bubbles, and my wee ladies were decked out in pink right up to their hair bows. Wonderfully enough, we found some wild strawberries. And no, we didn't use them to make the muffins.
The light was lovely, the girls looked like real life Strawberry Shortcake dolls, and so I snapped away. Little surprises, like the wild berries, make an average day special. The girls were quite taken with them. And I am quite taken with my red-and-pink-themed post. For aesthetic reasons. Obviously.

a painting

I've spent the last week painting and repainting a canvas. The good news is that I painted almost every night last week. The bad news is that while I still retain some of the vestiges of my drawing ability, it seems like I have lost all painting chops. And then I got my hands invaded by an awful Bob Ross-like dotty syndrome. It was kind of terrifying. But by the end of the week, my brain seemed to kick back in. I was in the laundry room, just kind of staring in disgust at the 4th or 5th paint-over of the week, when I suddenly saw in my mind what the paint strokes should look like. Then I felt so silly to have truly forgotten what my paintbrush was supposed to be doing. I should have documented the progress, but it was so hideous, really, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

All weekend, I thought about finally getting back into it, and painting over that travesty in my laundry room. Tuesday night I finally did, and while the result is not awe-inspiring, it at least feels like me, and I can recognize something there. I worked a bit more last night, just to be sure it wasn't a fluke, and painting was still my friend. I do dislike acrylics heartily, and it's no replacement for oil, but I will use what I have and spare my kids the fumes in the living room for now. I do have an exhaust fan in the bedroom, though, and I may just have to work something out between my love of oil paint, my family's health, and that fan.

I am trying to find a balance between making choices that are uniquely mine (in my paintings), and yet referencing the truth. I find it hard. If I work from a photo, or life, I can get a bit carried away by the details, and the life(ironically) goes out of the painting. However, I am not so great with working completely from my mind. Yes, this is boring stuff, but I am desperately trying to get back in the swing. I have a project that is very close to my heart, and I really need to be in good shape, artistically. Now that I have mentioned being in good shape, I will complain a bit and say that time to myself is very limited, and so my working out time has been completely usurped by painting time. It's actually quite frustrating... can't I be in shape and do a little artwork? Perhaps I shall have to work out a schedule. That's not my strong suit.

confessions...

And this has nothing at all to do with telling my girlfriend that a girl who is not my girlfriend is in the family way, and it's all my fault...

It has more to do with the fact that my kids have never been to the beach. Or even to a real pool. Now I don't feel exactly guilty about this, ok, I sorta do. It's just that a day trip to the beach with two infants, or two toddlers and a giant sick pregnant belly, or three toddlers... it just sounds like a lot more trouble than it's worth. And Dan's #2 job requires that we be around for much of the summer, and Dan hates the beach, so a little vacay for him is not going to be beachy, most likely. But I would like for them to see the ocean. It's wrapped up in my childhood, although, I never actually went there with my own family. I guess there's still plenty of time... I just don't want them to be afraid of it.

And the pool, thing, well, that's just the way things have worked out. We don't have a pool, belong to a pool, or have any friends that have a pool, at least that I am aware of. But a pool? Now there's something Dan loves, and we need to at least get ourselves to a pool this summer.

So, I suppose it's just all this hotness and humidity over the weekend that has me panicking about my children's exposure to large bodies of water. I guess it isn't really ruing their childhood or anything; there are plenty of landlocked places where kids grow up never actually having seen the ocean. I have, I admit, pitied those children in the past, but now I will tell myself that they still have quality childhood memories, and most likely swam in lakes (no, my kids have never been to a lake, either!).

In other news, all this warmness has put us into the time where little 3 year old girls wear sun-dresses, and I really can't stand it because their shoulder blades are so cute!!! Although, I really also enjoy jeans and a cardigan with a sun-dress, at least on a very small girl... so I miss the cool spring like crazy already. I really don't do very well in the damp heat. I feel very claustrophobic, and gross, and I love air conditioning so much... but at the beach, none of that matters!

sometimes, it's not just about babies; sometimes I can squeeze a little art in, too.

Today, my kids are at my Mom's house. Soooo, taking advantage of the time, I decided to clean out the laundry room. A catchall for whatever I don't know what to do with, or stuff I want to put out of sight quickly, it's a disaster area. Dan will be over the moon happy when he gets home, except, oops, I am distracted now.

In a pile of art related stuff on top of the dryer, I came across this drawing. I remember when I drew it, how I was inspired by botanical drawings of Charles Rennie Mackintosh, and how disappointed I was by the result of my own efforts. Well maybe it shows how out of practice I am, because now I really like it . Of course, sometimes perspective and distance are everything. In fact, I always look at my artwork in the mirror, to check for balance and mistakes, because in the midst of creating something, I can get too close to really see. There's something about the way a mirror reverses things that brings certain things to light. There is also something about it that lies, too, so I have to be careful.

Regardless, all this to say that after some time and distance, I have changed my mind about this piece, and I enjoy it now. It is also making me happy that I have this other piece, and somehow they seem related to me.

Part of it, I think, is the fact that this is an arts and crafts tile, in a gorgeous mission frame, and I was inspired in my drawing by a master of the arts and crafts movement. And then there's the obvious color relationships, and the three blossoms, and the fact that they are very similar in size. And also the diagonal composition which leaves a bit of an open space in the bottom left corner. Yes, I am an analytical genius, I know.

Dan gave me this tile for Christmas, and it is making me sad that the subtleties of color and texture in the glaze are kind of lost in this photo, and you can't really appreciate it's luminosity and depth. Sometimes it amazes me just how well my husband knows me. Just to be able to pick the perfect thing. The colors, the dangling freesia, I couldn't stop looking at it when I first opened it up. I love it, and I think I shall hang them together.

vapor rub

Last night, after submitting to the dreaded "paper rub" (the girls refuse to believe me that it's actually called vapor rub), Rowan was clearly bothered by something. I thought it was just the pungent goo on her chest, as she really dislikes it, but I found a moment later that it was a mental struggle.

Mommy, Is paper rub... um... I don't know... is paper rub... spicy?

I said that yeah, it definitely was kinda spicy. Not content, she squirmed around a bit, and then,

but... Mommy... is it... MINTY?

yes, Rowan, it is most definitely minty as well.

Instant snores. Literally. I found it completely wonderful that she just had to nail down the exact description of Vick's vapor rub before she could fall asleep.

blogger's block

there have been a few things that I have wanted to mention, write about, people who deserve props and shout-outs and whatnot, but for whatever reason, I have just had the hardest time sitting down and just expelling it here...

I know that is a strange usage of the word 'expel', but deal with it, for me, ok? I like strange word usage. a lot.

Recently, Dan completed a self-imposed, 90 day fast. Not a complete fast, but a pretty tough one, in which he cut out all meat, almost all sugar, caffeine, alcohol, cigarettes, well, it's easier to list what he would eat... raw vegetables, oatmeal, bananas and grapes (random fruit selection), water, and later on, hardboiled eggs and tomato soup. He successfully quit smoking, and has felt that his life is taking on some new direction. He did all of this with a supremely sweet attitude, no complaints, and generally just impressed the heck out of me. Amazing. I am prouder than I can say. And really, really glad that I can make just one dinner for the family now! I am inspired to attempt to cut out sugar and beat my chocolate addiction. We shall see.

My parents celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary yesterday, another accomplishment of which I am insanely proud. They have showed me a great example of what it means to build a marriage for the ages. I am so thankful for them!

Over Easter, our little family of 5 drove to Ohio to be with some dear friends, and get a little break from our everyday life. It was refreshing and fun, and we were reminded of how very dear these people are to us. I also got to participate in some figure drawing, and I wasn't actually as awful as I expected, which was very encouraging, as I am embarking on a little project, and could use all the encouragement I can get!

This is why I have had a hard time blogging. My everyday thoughts and experiences simply do not translate into interesting prose; neither do my mundane musings regularly metamorphose into the profound, so I choose not to post sometimes... I just don't find it particularly satisfying to set down a disjointed little clump of paragraphs. But sometimes I just need to do it anyway, to get back in the swing, because this is therapeutic for me.

laboring under a misapprehension

We've all done it... just took an idea and ran with it, when perhaps the facts weren't all there...

Like the time Dan didn't speak to me for a week while we were dating. He came in to see me at work (Brew HaHa!), and one of my co-workers and I, along with one of our coffee shop regulars, Toby, had been discussing his (Toby's) brother's recent engagement. Now Toby had the super cool idea that when he got engaged, he would buy his girlfriend a really great stereo system in lieu of a ring, cause wouldn't that be a much more practical way to spend a few thousand bucks? Well, practical or not, I said that I would prefer a ring, thank you, when the time came.

Innocent enough, right?

Well, poor Dan came in right at this juncture, and my co-worker casually informed him that I would rather have a ring than a stereo. A very strange look came over his face, all red and weird, and he left pretty abruptly. Needless to say, I was a bit confused. When he finally gave me a chance to ask him what the problem was, he reminded me that he had just gotten me a cd player for my car for Christmas... oooooohhhh. Right. I got it. Once we got our facts lined up, we realized that there was nothing to be upset about, and in case you were wondering, I did get a ring when the time came.

More recently, there have been other misunderstandings in our house...

I was in the bathroom, checking out my new haircut in my homey, truth-telling mirror, and man, oh man, did the bathroom stink! So I sprayed some air freshener. Now, febreeze air freshener is generally pretty strong (that's why I buy it). Well, this particular burst of smell-good for the air did nothing for my little patch of stink. Ok, so maybe I'm fighting compound poo. Another very substantial dose ought to do it... no, unbelievably, I may as well have sprayed poo scent. Then I happened to glance down and there, on the sink, is a diaper. Oh. Sweet Jude. Throw that precious little bundle away, and voila! No more nasty air.

Genevieve and Rowan were fresh out of the bath, under towels and two blankets, because our house is chilly. It was lotion time, and they wanted nothing to do with it. I can't really blame them, it was cold. So I tried to explain that our house is very dry, that eczema runs in the family... Genevieve suggested that I put lotion on the walls, then it wouldn't be dry in here. Smartypants. And a few days ago, after being told by me that she was not allowed to have a snack so close to dinner, she thought for a minute and told me, "Jesus told me I can". Uh-huh, Jesus trumps Mommy, right? Lands sakes!

Rowan, on the other hand, is the dreamer. She somehow got stuck on the idea that Easter is a person, a girl, for whom she is going to wear a dress, and then Easter will tell her that she is "the prettiest girl", and then Rowan in turn will tell me that I am the prettiest girl. I guess that I am then obligated to pass on the compliment. Interesting. I did try to correct her thinking, just for the record. I don't think she really cared. She loves drama. Just today, as I was trying to get out the door to go to the salon, she told me sadly, " Mommy, if you go, you will leave us all alone". Yeah. All alone with her sister, brother, Aunt Christine, and her cousin Moses. Poor baby!

good - not a poem, but center alignment sure makes it look like one

It is good to feel warm sun

good to see the one I love

good to hold small bodies close

it's good to eat donuts

good to smile into trusting eyes

good to ignore the chores and play

it is good to know the truth

and to jump with all your might

it is good to be present

and to get presents, too!

These were a few good moments from the last week or so:

Taking a walk

sisterly fun

Genevieve told me that she wants to sleep in the tree

Rowan giggles

my nephew Moses supervises Jude's piano lesson

poor little bubbers

So lately my Jude has been a bit of a roller coaster. Beastie brute one minute, and the sweetest honey-pie the next. Never saw such a moody little peanut. He's working through some things, I guess. But tonight he lost his pacifier. Now, I've been meaning to get rid of that thing. The girls got theirs taken away at 12 month, so he is 3 months overdue, and I have just been avoiding the issue. As I have mentioned, he can have his cantankerous moments, and he has been sick on and off... honestly, I just don't want another battle on my hands. But he lost it. So I call that providential, and put the little fella to bed sans binky.

It took him about 30 minutes to get to sleep. I don't know how I ever got through letting the girls cry through their nighttime wake up period, 'cause it was a longish half-hour. But at any rate, I felt good about it, and so when he started up again, and more fiercely than before, I gritted my teeth and finished the blog post I was reading. When I went in to settle him down, he was on his knees, facing the wall, just screaming, and he didn't turn around when I came in. Then I tried to pick him up, and realized that the poor child's arm was stuck in the crib rails. Jerk Mom that I am! Fortunately, it wasn't wedged, it just needed a little room to straighten out, so as soon as I pulled the crib out from the wall, he pulled it out himself and stopped crying. So the pain couldn't have been too awful, but the poor dude!

I picked him up and cradled him as he settled, but it broke my heart to hear how his breath caught in his throat with each inhale, that sad sad mark of having cried too hard for too long. I distinctly remember that feeling from my childhood, how I wanted so badly to just stop crying and move on, but my physical body was so disturbed that I had to wait through that cooldown phase, when even my breathing bore the evidence of recent trauma. His deep breaths were the pitiful multiple catching ones. His puffy little face took me back to that nearly 10 pound newborn that I brought home from the hospital over a year ago. I could see him so clearly in this big guy's vulnerability.

I kissed his little twitchy face, his marshmallow cheeks, and his perfect full lips, and as he drifted back to sleep, his brow still slightly furrowed, I ached for his baby sensibilities, as he had had a bad night all around. But as I laid him in his crib and he made his little adjustments of comfort and habit, he reached down and felt around for his belly button, stuck his index finger in it, and looked completely peaceful. I guess he's already found his new pacifier.

sometimes you unravel...

Seems like the minute you relax and say,

ok, I think I've got this... Thank you, God, for getting me to this point!

that's the minute that you start to unravel again.

I let my guard down, and gave glory to God. That's a good thing, don't get me wrong. A really good thing. It's just that those moments are the ones that really serve to piss off the darker forces at work, the ones who HATE when you feel good, and then give God the credit. Is 'piss off' a swear word? Anyway, life is just a lot of up and down, I guess. Unfortunately, I am a person who likes the easy times to stick around, I like a manual to be written out for me to handle certain situations with my children, times in which I am at a loss for words to explain the reason behind something, or when I might be speechless with anger or frustration. These times are frequent enough with 3 toddlers.

I feel, often enough, that I don't deserve these 3 cute little people, that I am going to scar them. I want them to retain this beautiful blush of innocence as long as possible, and I don't want to be a part of ruining that. I am human, of course, and they realize this, maybe. Just maybe, they understand that I make mistakes, too, but that I love them so much also. They certainly do forgive me. They gaze at me in adoration still, they go around the house singing, they hug me and kiss me, and tell me they love me, spontaneously, and sweetly.

I enjoy them. They love olives. They turn the lights on throughout the house with long handled serving spoons. They snuggle each other, and giggle under forts. They dance, and their eyes light up when they hear certain songs. They also put their feet in the toilet and track their pee around the house. They hurt each other, and watch how their teasing and grabbing can elicit a reaction. They are human, too. I am trying to be patient with them, as they repeatedly forgive my over-reacting.

the magic of ordinary days

So, yeah, there happens to be a Hallmark movie playing at this moment by that name, but I like it, it describes accurately what life can be. Not always, but sometimes. There are moments. Like the moment I captured earlier today, of my two little nymphs, sitting on their brand new toy shelf, watching the snow come down.

My Dad brought this wonderful shelf that he made for the girls' room today, and we promptly filled it up with books and toys, and I am left wondering what on earth we did with all of this stuff before?! I think that after two difficult pregnancies, in somewhat quick succession, I am finally nesting. Ridiculous, I know, but I think I was too sick to feel that nesting instinct that pregnant women are supposed to feel at the tail end of their pregnancy. I kept waiting, hoping for a burst of energy, a little motivation, but it never came. Now that Jude is over one year old, I am finally feeling like I understand how to juggle 3 babes and cooking, laundry, and housework. This actually excites me, and I have been accomplishing small tasks this week that have been on my to do list for a year and a half.

Anyway, all this to say that when I knew that the shelf was coming, I fantasized about which toys would go where, how we could get most of the kid's toys and books into their room and out of the living room. So in about 15 minutes flat, I had that thing filled up, and arranged to my liking.
Yes, I am BORING. My heart is delighted by small feats of organization. And butterfly wings. It's been a good day. A good week.

midget news

The baby boy we call Jude is finally becoming a bit more independent with the walking; he will now walk across the room... this is a relief to me, because, although I have been told that 14 months is the average for walking, it just feels late to me. Mostly because since about 6 months, the doc kept telling me how he was definitely gonna walk early, so I started waiting for it. But poor child, he is tall for his age, and chubby, and he has rather diminutive feet... so he had his work cut out for him. He's like the Hippo ballerina on Fantasia, and if that sweet lady didn't have animators making her dance, I'll bet she would have had a hard time making a go of it, even on 4 feet!

The girls are saying the most hysterical and insightful things. Rowan told me that Mary was going to give me another baby in my belly (no, no, nuh-uh). Apparently she is catholic. She then proceeded to explain, "Jesus' mommy was Mary, and God is his Daddy". Well, I guess if you are three, it would make sense that Mary would have a hand in all things baby-related. I in know way mean to say that catholicism is silly or juvenile, just that I understand how my child drew her conclusions.

Also, less sacred, more profane... As I changed Jude's first diaper of the morning, I mumbled, to myself, "Boy, your butt smells like fried chicken." Genevieve promptly added, "Mommy, my butt smells like french fries!" She was very proud. We all are, actually. This age is difficult, as the twins wish to challenge every rule, but it is great fun, too, because their comprehension is really improving, and they are incredibly enjoyable to talk with and listen to. They don't quite understand why their wants can't dictate their behavior, and we are working to instill in them a sense of self-control. This is not always successful, but I do see from time to time, that they are starting to get it. I guess many of us could still stand to learn this lesson.

vacation is over, and we mourn

Yesterday the students returned to campus. Ah, the end of our blessed winter break. This means that now Dan is back to working two full time jobs, back to running from day job to traffic, to office, to meetings, to office again, with scarcely time to eat dinner or shower. It means no more long naps on the sofa, not quite left alone. No more dinner and bedtime with the family every night. It means that I will go back to eating a bar of chocolate every night, because I am antsy and bored and missing the company of my very best friend. Of course, there are other things I could do... I just really love dark chocolate.

This is the time of day when we all want to sleep... from about 1 to 4pm, we all struggle to find things to do to keep alert. If the girls crash, they won't sleep at night, even if it is only for half an hour. But all we really want to do is snuggle up on the couch and close our eyes! Jude is napping, and the girls beg for a movie and their pillows. My sleepy mind begs to give it to them, so I can crash along with them. Ahhhhh, it is so tempting to just allow it! But really, these girls will be up until 11 if I do that, and I will be cranky and frustrated that the evening time no longer belongs to me. So we struggle through, pull out new clothes, get our bodies moving, anything to distract ourselves from the afternoon lull, and the soft couch, and the warm lazy light.

a roll of film

Yeah, an actual roll. As in 35mm. Adjust the actual aperture and shutter speed, capture an image created from light, and an old-fashioned kind of magic.

Jude makes a beeline for a certain drawer of miscellaneous junk anytime my bedroom door is open. The things he finds! Today he handed me a roll of TMAX 100 speed b/w film. Instantly, I was having flashbacks.

Pitch black zigzag hallway into the darkroom, pupils slowly adjusting to the dim red light. The smell of chemicals. The magic of a blank white sheet of paper with the right cocktail of light exposure, developer, stopper, and whatever else we used to use in there, suddenly reavealing an image captured by a little black box. Locking myself into a pitch black closet, and learning to assemble and disassemble a film canister, and loading the precious film into it, realizing that if I were blind, I could find a way to make it work. Not that it would be easy, or anything, but being able to do something complicated with hands only, and no eyes, is a strange and potent confidence builder.

Also, there was something else. Something that at the time, I did not notice, or even value. Freedom. Just complete and utter freedom. I mean, yes, I had a part time job, and classes, and work to complete, but oh my. I served coffee, goofed around with coworkers, and made people smile by remembering their usual drink. And my homework was pottery, taking pictures, making paintings, writing essays. But really, I could go where I wanted, when I wanted. I did not really answer to anyone, and my mind was self-absorbed, uncluttered with the cares of other lives for whom I might be (AM) responsible.

That was another life, one that it's actually hard for me to believe I ever lived. If it were not for these vivid memories that surface every now and then, I wonder if I would forget all about it! They were good times, fun times, crazy times, and there are certainly aspects of those time that I miss now and then, but the truth is, there is a lot more weight in what I am doing now. Yes, there may be a frustrated artist inside of me still , but I am finding tiny ways to let her out, small outlets, and I rest in the knowledge that those tiny ways will find eventual expansion. Ok, so maybe I don't always rest in the knowledge; sometimes I squirm and writhe and fidget restlessly, but it passes. After all, those small outlets are holes that will stretch with use, changing shape, grow into actual windows, out of which my soul will pour. Or maybe ooze. My soul may be a little congealed from long stillness. Wait. No. NO. My soul has not been still, and it took me just writing that to fully realize it.

Even this little space is a small aperture, where I can squeeze out a bit of soul goo. I can't even bring myself to post without an image, that should tell me something. That's why I called it "fingerpaint" - If I have to paint with my keyboard, then so be it.