family trees

While Rowan and Jude were sick last week, there was a lot of napping and couch potato-ing happening with those two, which left me and Genevieve to our own devices. Of course, I got it over the weekend, she got it this week, and pretty much all we have done this week has been to lay around and watch movies. Thank goodness we are coming out on the other side of it now!

The point being that Genevieve and I had a really fun time drawing and learning new things together. She is a funny little girl, and wants to know why I do everything, especially when it comes to my drawing decisions. I try to tell her that there doesn't have to be a reason when it comes to art, otherwise, it's not all that fun. My art school professors would probably disagree with me, but I always did my best work spontaneously, in fact, my professors would agree that my work lost some of it's life when I thought too much. I agree with the surrealists that art can very much be improved when one lets the subconscious have some wiggle room.

So anyhow, she wanted to know why, very urgently, when I filled a perfectly good heart with a wiggly blue checkerboard and then filled the squares with green and orange.

No reason, honey, just because!

She has always had a bit of a tough time when it comes to correction from me, how to hold her pencil, how the letters should go from left to right, etc. But she was so pliant and sweet, and when she got frustrated, she kept going. She tried to learn how to draw a heart, which was very cute. She learned how to make a spiral, and practiced grids. She spontaneously started writing out her alphabet, and we had a little tree drawing tutorial, which was actually just her watching me draw a tree, and resulted in these:

Genevieve as a tree

The whole family.

misery and mercy

I keep thinking that I'm at the end of my rope. Then, it turns out, there's more rope than I had thought.

This rope is made out of lots of things. A husband who becomes the nurturer and caretaker for his pitiful family... Soup and bread from my mom, dropped off while at the pediatrician's office for a triple sick visit... a respite from the headache that had me ready to weep... there's a common thread though, which is God's great mercy.

Rowan and Jude got sick last week, gradually seemed better, and then worse. By Saturday night, I had been hit by the same 18-wheeler. Dan worked on Saturday, but came home just in time. I had been ok, but that was wearing off fast. He came home and got right to work. He got Rowan up and got her to eat some substantial amounts of food. He got soup and cold medicine, and sent me to bed at 8pm. On Sunday he sent me back to bed to get the only solid sleep I had gotten since the day before. He took Genevieve out to the store on a little date, as she was still feeling good at that point. He came home and oversaw the eating of food by all. He even made me eat enough soup to meet his stringent standards.

Monday, he stayed home from work (since he had worked Sat) and drove us all to our wonderful pediatrician, who checked out he kids very thoroughly, perscribed some antibiotics for all three (by now Viv had woken up feverish and coughing), and a steroid for Jude, who's cough had begun to sound suspiciously croupy. Daddy dropped us off at home, put Jude to bed, and went back out for tissues, OJ, vitamins, and filled prescriptions.

Oh, and did I mention that he washed dishes and cleaned up the house? Yeah.

By this morning, I was feeling good enough to handle the 3 sick ones, while Dan left for work. Except that the Dr. was right about Jude. He slept well, but woke up with croup in full swing. He couldn't stop coughing for more than a few seconds, and was unfortunately using all his spare breath to say, "Mommy, Mommy!" between coughs, even though I was holding him. I gave him his steroid, fluids, honey, warm steam in the bathroom, but nothing was giving him relief. At this point the girls were awake and whining for my attention. I put my hand on his chest and prayed, because, once again, end of my rope. He made a funny noise in his throat and immediately the coughing stopped. He had some moments of total peace, and got very relaxed. Since then he's been a lot better, coughing more infrequently and eating, and napping periodically, cause that constant coughing had him worn out. The rope has been extended. I would like to learn how to live in this grace all the time.

picture frame as metaphor

I had a rough start to my work day yesterday... late to work, then I started in with a series of mistakes, all fixable, no $$ wasted, but still, I caused my very reserved boss to exclaim, "What are you doing!!!! Drink some coffee!!" I had a hard time getting past how very useless and stupid I felt. This used to be the place in which I felt the most confidence, but I find that I really need to take things a little bit slower now, and really concentrate to get myself into the frame chopping mode.

There is still a lot that I love about making frames, though. Especially when I get to work with beautiful hardwood moulding, like a nice cherry. Oh, my, the wonderfulness of cherry wood! It's color is gorgeous, a soft silky rust color, swirled with naturally graceful fine grain. It is very hard, but not splintery at all. Maple is very similar, but naturally paler, like butter. Yum. My chopper blades were getting a little dull, so I was cutting all the frames that don't require super sharp, fresh blades. That gives me 3 options generally:

1) hardwood. like cherry or oak or ash. delightful.

2) good quality softwood of a certain kind, I'm not even sure what it is, but it is not pine, and almost seems like some kind of compressed wood. nice to work with, subtle waxed finishes, gently distressed.

3) the bane of my existence, 'bonanzawood', which is not wood at all but some kind of crap that is like super dense compressed cardboard, or an MDF (medium density fiberboard). Ew. this stuff is covered with a paper-like wrapping, that is manufactured to imitate wood grain. I hate it. I don't like things that are not genuine. Or things that explode with a little noxious puff of cardboardy dust when I cut into them. Gross. It is overly heavy, and fake, and cheap, and I don't trust it. By the way, we tell customers exactly what they are getting, so if they cheap out, they are not being fooled.

Now, I get that framing is expensive. prohibitively expensive. But if you are gonna spring for a luxury like custom framing, go the extra 30 bucks and get some real wood. Ok, ok, I also get that if you are really budgeting with integrity and you have alloted a certain amount, then you might have to go with a cheaper option to stay within your limits. And that is a really, really, good thing, and good for you for sticking to your guns. When all is said and done, what your pictures are framed with isn't really going to matter.

But, there is something to be said for quality. Were I a manufacturer of picture frame moulding, which I am not, I would want to produce top notch materials. I would want to do my very best. I love to work with good materials for a reason. They are beautiful, and often easy and pleasant to work with. They generally smell nice, and don't make my skin itch. They are usually of natural origin, too, which makes all the sense in the world to me.

I kind of felt, while chopping frames yesterday, that the moulding was like different kinds of people. Some are natural, solid, beautiful in their confidence, graceful with a simple curve. When you go below the surface, you get exactly what you expect: real, sweet smelling truth. There are imperfections, but then, they never claimed to be perfect. Some are rather polished looking, no one would ever know that they were not wood, but they require some tricky handling to get to the inside without making an awful mess. Once open, you see dusty cardboard instead of wood, and you can also clearly see the papery veneer that covered the outside for what it is, an imitation. Now cardboard did start out as some kind of wood pulp product, right? So somewhere along the way, that kind of person lost sight of what they were meant to be, and pursued appearances, while ignoring the inner things that matter. I hope that I am like the first kind.

Sorry, to those of you who are not interested in picture frame moulding or cheesy metaphors! Actually, this was more of an extended similie, but whatever, you understand me, I'm sure.

Busy Bee gets to preachin'

Knitting projects.

Headband ideas and prototypes.

Photographing items for etsy, putting on piles of makeup for said photos, because, honestly, who's gonna buy something to wear on their head if they don't know what it might look like on an actual head? and who's gonna buy it if they think it might make them look like a harried, exhausted, lined mother of three? So yeah, lots of makeup.

These things are time consuming, I've realized. Ha, ha. Especially when I try to squeeze it all into the child-free moments! It makes me feel a smidge insane. Have I mentioned how I don't multitask well? Mm-hmm, I don't. Not a good trait in a person who has got 3 kids, a home, a tiny part-time job, and a husband, all of which need attention. I don't want a nanny, a cleaning lady, or a personal chef (ok, so it might be nice to have a cleaning lady or a chef), I just want to do all of my jobs well. In the past, something has always suffered when I try to excel at everything. So I have always just tried to prioritize. But I don't really think that should look like me doing one thing well (e.g. parenting, OR house cleaning), while everything else goes to pot.

I long to be the wife of proverbs, who manages her household so skillfully and wisely! And I want to be a loving and wholly available mother. That certainly has to come before all the chores and tasks. I also want to take care of my husband. I can sometimes fail in that department, because I have these three kiddos, and he's an adult. It's easy to neglect him, but he really does need attention as much as the little ones. He may not need me to get him a band aid or put him down for a nap, but he really feels loved when I do little things like get his lunch together, make the morning coffee, and put my current project down for a while and give him my full attention while he tells me about his day.

I think that Moms sometimes forget that being a wife, and parenting together must come before mothering. At least that's how I feel about it. If you neglect your marriage because you're too busy being a Mommy, what will be left when the kids are more independent? Ok, I'm off the soapbox. I'm blessed to be married to my best friend, and I want to be aware of how my actions or lack of actions affect Dan. Perhaps I'm getting all preachy because we are going to the first night of a 13 week marriage group tonight. It should be really good. I'm excited to focus on myself and Dan and God for a couple of hours.

All this to say that I feel as though I am making some progress. I am staying somewhat on top of daily tasks, and trying to really be present with my children and my husband. And my accountability buddies are on board to help me, which makes me so excited and happy. I think there is one more area, though, in which I need a kick in the pants... I am thinking and praying about who I should ask to kick me on a regular basis. More about that later.

A New Year, and more posts?

This is 2011. Weird. Shall I blog more? That remains to be seen. I'd like to, and I have really been lame-o about it lately. But jeez, it's time consuming! It shouldn't be, but it is. My computer is old and overly stuffed with information. In it's present state, it moves like molasses in January. We need to back it up, upgrade, and clear off a bunch of stuff. It's time for a trip to the genius bar.

So Jude. newly 2, suddenly verbal, and testing all of his (and our) boundaries. But oh! still so delicious , munchable as ever. He also just got his long curls chopped off, and his manliness is shockingly kissable.

And my little ladies. Such ladies! 4 years old, willful, smart, and delicately sensitive. Rowan wants to be a little Mommy, and Viv wants to call all the shots and be master of her own destiny. They tell me hysterical things, ask theological questions, and pretend the most delightful and weird scenarios.

Dan. Exhausted. And full of strength and grace. I'm hoping that this year brings him some rest and relief. I have a great hope that I can be a part of bringing that to him. That is one of my resolutions for this year. (side note: Rowan just informed me, 'I turned our house into a humongous hedgehog, Mom')

So speaking of resolutions for the new year, I have this crazy idea that I can do better. Better at parenting, and being a wife, and managing our household. Crazy, right? So instead of making a list and promptly forgetting about it, I have decided to ask some specific people to hold me accountable in some very specific ways. It is a lot to ask, but if my friends are willing to help me, I think it will be a wonderful thing!