my own brand of productive

Today I got my driver's license renewed. There was no line, and Jude was quietly cooperative. They let you approve the photo before printing, so I made the kind man redo it 3 times... I can honestly say that I look semi-normal, and my eyes are opened all the way. I proudly stashed my still-warm-from-the-machine-card in my wallet, went into the grocery store, went through the checkout line, and found that my wallet was gone. I just had it! What?? After a few brief but panicky moments of wondering if the Artful Dodger had followed me into the Giant (moments which included a perverse 4-year-old insisting, "No! Don't pull me! I don't want to go fast! You can't make me run!"), I found my wallet on the floor of the car. I went back into the store, paid for my groceries, and came home. Once home, I flopped on the sofa and proceeded to fill out paperwork for the triple kids' dentist appointment that we have scheduled for 9am tomorrow. What excitement fills my days! No, really, these are wild times. I'm feeling slightly breathless.

little struggles

My daily struggle is with the amount of repetition. Tell the child to get dressed. Again. Again. Set a timer, explain what is expected, explain what the consequence will be if task is not completed. Give a half-time-gone warning. Calmly administer consequence. Go over with child to make sure the child understands. Tell the child to brush teeth. Again. Again. Set a timer, oh, you get it. Why doesn't the kid get it? I have no idea, but I know that me pitching a fit isn't going to help a child learn about acting appropriately. Oh, but it might relieve the pent up lava that is churning hotly in my chest...

They will get it, it's just that they need more patience from me, more consistency, more properly modeled behavior. There are so many mistakes that I make over and over again, and I'm sure that someone is shaking His head, and wondering when it will finally click for me.
Extending grace, and loving me anyway.

Extend a little grace to me tonight, I just wasn't feeling life drawing. But when I just draw from my imagination, it's definitely weak. I need to find a way to bring the two together better.

black chair

Chair. Quick sketch, not my usual subject matter. You know how I like the figure, but this was nice and simple and fun.

In enjoying getting a little grubby with vine charcoal. It's making me itch for a giant canvas and the smell of oil and turpentine. Oh love. It won't be long now, I'm determined.

Oh my numb fingers...

I am completely at a loss tonight. I did a drawing, so that's good. One thing to check off the list...however, my fingers have been going numb when I draw, but mostly when I'm drawing with too much control or something. So I put down the pen and picked up done charcoal. Man I love charcoal!

It has been a long but pleasant weekend. I could've used more snow, but otherwise, it was pleasant. Now I am tired and brain dead. I am swirling a bit, emotional and foggy. My kids are wonderful, and they are also trying my patience. I need to move forward, toward something. That's something that I am not good at. Taking steps. Taking a deep breath and walking. Making an effort toward a goal. This really scares me. I don't like to set goals for myself, because then I might fail. Dumb reason, I know. So here goes. If I can post drawings when I am so out of practice, for anyone to see, I can put myself out a little farther on the limb.

obligatory onion

I'm sure it shows... Guilt Drawing addendum to last nights post. I was so lazy, I used a very crappy #2 pencil and nothing else. Bored at the start results in a boring drawing. But I am still practicing, so it can't be a complete loss! Interrupted by a child grabbing the onion and divesting it of its layers. I should've thanked him.

You are getting very sleepy...

There is something heavy dragging my eyelids down. Not sure what it is, but if it doesn't stop, I'm gonna fall asleep.

There are power tools in the living room.

There are three kids asleep in their beds, and for some reason, I feel jealous.

There is a sprouted onion on my kitchen counter. I was going to draw it, but instead, I will tell you about it. Imagine an onion. Small, pinkish-gold, flaky, with a couple of black spots near the top. Pale green scalliony leaves are busting out of the top in a 6 inch curve.

And... Now we're all asleep. Goodnight...

4 years ago, my blog was funnier

I was just as much a worry-wart, but I was at least witty about it. Was it the pregnancy hormones? Now I just fester humorlessly. I think about my three small ones, and I worry. I think about how amazingly special they are, and how there are so many people with whom they will come into contact, who just won't get it. I worry about how, when someone doesn't see the quirky wonderful perfection, my small person will feel sad, and rejected, and maybe it won't be enough that I see it.

I don't want to think so negatively. Sheesh, what a downer of a post. Lemme switch gears slightly. A certain six year old said to me tonight, when I assured her that her feet would warm up under the covers, that her body was like a house or a ship, and the warmness was going to come in and fill it up, and the coldness would disappear, like when we turn on our heater. This child thinks in similes quite often. It's enjoyable. It's the way she shows me her understanding. I love it. I'm sure I can't be the only one who will.

So, here you are. Little girl in the grass. Not just 5 minutes, but hey, I'm drawing.

bits of thoughts and lines

I love work. Mostly because I only go once a week at most...there is still a bit of novelty to chopping frames. And getting out of the house is nice. I appreciate my cute kids a bit more when I haven't seen them all day. I get to talk to adults and feel productive. It's a nice vacation from my routine. It's good to really know, unequivocally, what to do in a given situation. Such is not always the case when it comes to parenting. At least not for me. But at work, I know what I'm doing, and I move with confidence and purpose. I'd like to get more like that in my daily life. I don't think it's impossible.

Here is my boy, desperately in need of a haircut. I'm getting attached to this black pen!

eyes open for the good stuff

Today was restful, beginning to end. Even the part where I was gasping for breath, holding the seat of my girl's bike while she tried to pedal. It was a sweet, windy, sun-soaked, delicious kind of day. Sometimes it's better not to try so hard to get somewhere. Especially if you're in a hurry with your eyes closed.

Tonight I am remembering one of my favorite books from my childhood, and it definitely influenced my drawing.

the truth is...

I am having trouble with perspective. Not 2 dimensionally speaking; well, actually, that too. But what I mean is, I'm having trouble having any kind of realistic perspective on my life. I mess up sometimes...we all do, of course. But I can't seem to separate the missteps from my own identity. I am permanently and intrinsically unreliable. It's who I am. Emily=flake. I don't follow through. Period. But the truth is more like: I can do better.

nerd alert

So yes, I skipped yesterday, due to feeling unproductive and a wee bit depressed. And oh, yes, headache-y. Today is not much better. Actually, it's worse in the headache department, but better in the depressed/unproductive department.

...several hours and a triple bedtime later...

So, after an slight improvement on my day's activities and after killing my headache with the coffee/ibuprofen one-two punch, I decided to try out my new sewing machine. My slightly intimidating, fancy computerized Christmas gift from my parents. I've been both dying for and dreading this moment. Oh, I needn't have worried, this thing has a brain, and it seems to want to be my friend. My eyes are rolling back in my head with delight. I know, I know, the robots are winning.

I already threw this project up here, but I finished it, with a little help from my BabyLock! Fabric toy bin labels. Indestructible, and therefore worth the time. Which, incidentally, wasn't all that much:

rumination

I know something about myself. I think a lot. Analyze. Reflect. Mull.

I do it too much, and it is usually not terribly helpful. It's all inner life, and not enough outer life. Maybe this blog isn't helping, but it's supposed to. The idea was for me to practice two things that I want to get better at, utilize, and share. I just get mad when I find myself on the sofa and can't quite account for the last two hours.

No, it didn't take two hours to write this! Maybe I should read less. It's not as if I could be out somewhere; my babes are abed, and my husband is working. But I feel myself turning more inward, and I guess I just wanted to call myself out.

Baby:

odd

Volunteering at the girls' kindergarten makes me nostalgic. And super nosy. I want to poke my head into every classroom and see what's going on. I want to go back to elementary school, because it looks like so much fun!

I went into the bathroom before I went into class, and found the water running full force, and the sink about to overflow. Seriously, right at the brink. I shut it off and saw that the bottom was filled with paper towels. It just struck me as oddly purposeful, sending my brain into a swirl of hypotheticals about the little girl who passed me on the way in. What pseudo-destructive schemes were teeming behind her innocent looking eyes? Probably none.

Here are some oddly muscular and weirdly patchworky pears:

cough-cophony

Driving home from my parent's house tonight, we were all coughing. Myself, and all three kids. The wipers were on, and they squeak. Rowan was coughing the most regularly, punctuated by the rest of us in various dry tones. I kept waiting for the coughs to clear up into a distinct rhythm, to organize themselves with the wiper blades into a funky song, like a commercial I must have seen sometime or an episode of Glee.

There has been a nasty stomach virus ravaging our family this week, and I think my imagination may have simply come unhinged. No sketch tonight, I'm skipping out. Goodnight!

tree

I didn't do it in five minutes, but I couldn't post it until I gave it to Dan. So here it is. I won't be ruining any surprises. Although he requested it, so he wasn't that surprised...

worst-case scenario

If I had to think of the worst birthday, I might describe a day like the one I had yesterday. Throwing up, sick kids too, husband trying hard to finish a job an hour away, dinner plans cancelled. I had my little pity party, I did. I had it at 12:05, barely five minutes into my birthday, when my eldest crawled into my bed and started throwing up. I threw a little tantrum in my mind right there, staring angrily back at the evil red numbers of my alarm clock. I charged on rapidly through the 12 stages of grief, and resigned myself to my fate. By morning, I had caught the bug, and it didn't really matter anymore.

I have good kids. They get it when I need a little extra cooperation. They were quiet and watched movie after movie, and generally were low maintenance. They were kind to each other, mostly.

I got various phone calls both to wish me a happy birthday and offer help. In short, I was cared for. My husband made it home with pretty gifts, feminine, artsy gifts that were just perfect. I let the little people stay up to see him, since we hadn't seen him since Monday. They whirled and danced around him, until we all tumbled down to read some stories. They were scooped into bed, and Dan and I sat down to a cup of Earl Grey and some chocolate ( thanks Jess!). We caught up on our week, laughed about our kids, watched an episode of Life, and collapsed. I'll take my worst-case scenario.

right-brained

I hate cleaning my house. It isn't just because the tasks don't stay done, but because in some ways feel I'm fighting a losing battle, swimming against the tide, barely keeping my head above water, you get the idea. I'm not good or efficient at it.

Maybe it's my fault, and I shouldn't waste time designing labels for the kids toy bins. Maybe I'm a tiny bit distractible.

I'm now a fix-it lady. Booyah.

That's an electric pencil sharpener. The kids got it for Christmas from their Grammy, and they adore it. I don't think it's meant for colored pencils, but they've been having a heyday with it, until it stopped working. This is our fault, I mean we have been sharpening to blissful points an entire arsenal of waxy crayola pencils. I could tell it wasn't the motor, so I opened it up and cleaned according to the directions, but I could barely make out what looked like some shavings blocking the farthest area of the sharpening slot, out of my reach. I was determined, so I unscrewed the whole thing, and yanked it open. A little motor, the sharpening unit, and a couple of seriously oil-slathered cogs and bits went flying in various directions. Oh crap. I forgot there would be parts inside. I'm not 3-dimensionally inclined. Somehow, after some trial and error, I got the pieces back together in the right spots, removed the clog, clicked the two halves of the case together and plugged it in. Oh what joy to hear that familiar zippy motor when I poked in another crayola! I may have to do it again tomorrow, but I'm pleased with myself.

The sun'l come out...

Oh. Today. I don't even know what to say. Not exactly a success. Neither was the drawing, but I missed yesterday, so I felt the need to get back in the swing. Tomorrow is new, new, new. I can't wait for tomorrow. Cue Annie...

33 minutes late...

... Thought I was gonna skip out today? Yeah, me too. But then I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Rough day. But it ended well. Got some things accomplished, and here's a sketch:

Honestly, though, I don't have time to do these I over and over until I'm satisfied. It is hard for me to push the 'post' button most days. Ok. Fine. Just an exercise.

tonight. this morning. guacamole. and apples

Guacamole. I'm happy to announce that tonight there will be guacamole. Recently I discovered that, not only do I adore guacamole, but I also make some fantastic guacamole. I know!!! All these wasted years...

On to my cute newly-four-year-old. This morning, while surveying him with wonder (all my kids amaze me with their existence, but I have a SON, and that is slightly extra amazing), I said to him, "are you going to get married some day?" And he replied with a smile, "yeah...", and I half to myself continued, " you're going to find a girl you love and marry her.." He calmly replied, "you're the girl I love. I'm going to marry you." AaaHHHH. I would've liked to leave it at that, but I told him that someday he'd feel differently. He doesn't believe me. And that's ok, for now I'll take it.

Crayon and apples. Don't turn your nose up at what you've got on hand!

cranky face

So my kids are getting on my nerves. I was up a lot in the night, coughing, and I'm gonna blame my grumpiness on that. But, if I'm being honest with myself, it isn't really the reason. I am just impatient by nature, and my kids are slow and pokey, and day-dreamy. They are imaginative and thoughtful, and always getting distracted by one another. I don't always enjoy that. But it is part of what makes them wonderful. Last night Rowan came out from bed to inform me that her elbows "felt irritated". I didn't really find it funny at the time, and I sent her and her irritable elbows back to bed. But these little things are good things, rich things. So I sat myself down with paper and a ballpoint pen, and a little round mirror, and First Aid Kit. Those ladies always soothe my ruffled feathers. Here is my cranky face. I feel much better now. What did I tell you... life-giving creative outlet. Cranky stays on the paper, and now I'll bring my renewed appreciation for the small ones into lunchtime.

today's five minutes

Sat down to sketch my small boy, while watching the Incredibles; this is as far as I got. He noticed me there, so naturally he is snuggling close, and I've only got a view of the top of his oversized head. Boy, does he ever need a haircut!

and life...

I have my hand on Dan's calf as he plays on the floor with he kids, building Legos. I can feel a vein, pulsing with faint but vital rhythm, a miracle to my mind. It makes me think of when the twins were born, cut from my abdomen with a scalpel, perfect and tiny, round headed, fuzzy shouldered. Alive with a mysterious life, that seemingly sprung from nothing inside of me, grew, started kicking and making themselves known.

I can never seem to touch this mystery, get my hands on it. Kids, where there were no kids. A husband who feels like a part of me, when I didn't grow up with a soul mate. A story that changed and moved and has more chapters ahead than have yet been read. I sit back and look wonderingly at these four other people who are intertwined in my heart, woven in and around, closely laced. This is what I am amazed by today. It doesn't mean that I don't lose my temper and yell sometimes, and it doesn't mean that I go through my days serenely sure that I am doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing. It just means that I am trying to notice the wonder among all the dead pine needles on my living room floor.

There. 5 min drawing, ok more than that, but whatever, it's just an exercise, right? even if my favorite part is the shadows from my arms trying to snap a picture.