busy bee

Today was pretty non-stop. Pack off two nieces with Dan in the morning, get girls ready for school, feed them lunch, notice a lack of heat, call about it, drop girls at kindergarten, go to one teacher conference at one school. Go straight to second teacher conference at another school, go home for about 30 minutes, pick up girls, pick up my sister-in-law, brother-in- law, niece and nephew, drop the parents at the airport, bring the kids (all 5) home, notice heat still off, call again, start dinner, meet with heater repair guy, feed kids, get them pajamatized, read books, scratch backs, give cough medicine, inhalers, vapor rub, water....

Then sit down with pastels and some Friday Night Lights. Non stop, I tell you!

sugar, spice, snails, and a mess

Do you remember that ridiculous nursery rhyme about what little girls and boys are made of? Did this person have a kid? Maybe their children were grown and out of the house, and they were remembering through the haze of nostalgia. Maybe they had a nanny. At any rate, I'll tell you what my kids are made of.

Mess.

Bits and scraps and unknown sticky stuff.

Tape peels off of them and adheres to the furniture.

They shed tiny slivers and crescents of paper that stick to the floor in a static frenzy.

Boogers magically fall off of them, land on the walls, and dry there. I know, your kids don't do that, but mine are gross.

They attract stink bugs and build habitats for them, and accidentally remove some legs.

They hoard avocado pits and popcorn kernels and pepper seeds and lose their collections under the furniture where they can develop new strains of penicillin.

They put their arms around me in the morning, and with their horrific morning breath (that I secretly adore), they tell me good morning, and they claim their snuggles. And then they fight over the snuggles and get sent back to bed. And then we start fresh, and and I hold them like babies, and I carry them to the kitchen for tea and breakfast and we add to our mess. That is, unless Dan has gotten up, and I have slept through wake up time, and I come into the kitchen guilty and groggy, and try to make coffee as amends for my laziness.

The drawing is not treating me kindly tonight. This is me in a minute.

one thing...

One thing about getting into a real flow with a drawing: I can't go back to just doodles. It's a commitment of a little more time, but it is way more fun.

One thing about being a mother: I can't just sleep through a child coughing, although I get so sleep deprived that I wish I could. My poor little girl has been dosed with every cough remedy available. Except, of course, actual cough medicine. But I hear that doesn't really work anyway. At the moment she is snoring and sound asleep. Pease God, let her sleep through the night, for all of our sakes!

One thing about drawing at night. If I can't find anything to draw, I'm stuck with just me. And so are you.

reminder

Sometimes you just feel it. The moment is right, the flow is switched on. The markers may be running out of ink and the colors severely limited, since we've been purging the market basket of the totally dried-up ones, but it doesn't matter. Tonight I had fun with my drawing. It was quick, but I was committed. To the funky marker selection. They were odd, but they were mine.

I am reminded that, for every chore-like, boring sketch I churn out, I am still exercising my mind and my hand. And sometimes it's fun again.

red noses and motivation

The girls and I have red, sore noses. We are like Rudolph triplets. This is no fun at all, being boogerish and bleary-eyed, puffy, crusty, and slimy all at once. I know. Ew. The provocative power of words is terrifying!

I sent them to school; they sound worse than they are. If I kept them home for every cough, they would miss half of their school days. Sorry, teachers, I just can't set that kind of precedent. They adore staying home from school. One thing that is actually the same about my very different little twinbeans.

I have always been aware of the fact that these love bugs are individuals. But I am being made more and more aware of it as they progress with different teachers in different classrooms. One of my sweet girls is having a bit of a rough time. It seems to me that it is all about what motivates her. And approval doesn't do it, neither does encouragement. Not positive things to look forward to. Negative consequences can have an affect, but that doesn't make anyone feel good.

This child is bright and capable, and I'm not sure if she wants control, or is bored, or what. She only does that she wants to do... Fortunately she generally wants to be a nice kid. But she's giving her teacher a tough time about doing her work, and it's getting worse. It came to a head yesterday, while I was in her class, she wanted to be on the computers, but was supposed to be writing. she sat through 3 rotations, crying and refusing to do her work. once the time ran out and she was on her way to library, it was like nothing happened. oy.

We had a long and thoughtful chat yesterday after school, and I feel like I got through. I have a conference with her teacher next week, so that will be interesting. Just thoughts tonight. I'm too sleepy to draw.

Lessons

Well, things are not much more certain than the last post, in terms of what we are going to do for a work vehicle for D. But what is certain is that we have good financing and a low rate, which is a relief, since the "financing" which our first guy wanted to hook us up with was a loan shark who wanted us to sign our lives away. We aren't fools, and we didn't go for it. But it shows us now, more than ever, that to act in haste would definitely be to repent in leisure. We looked at options with real banks, and found that we are in decent shape. We wish we were in a position to buy a car outright, but we aren't, and unfortunately we need to act soon, and don't have the luxury of saving up. So there it is.

The weekend was long and hard, and this week has started us out with a heavy mental load. But tomorrow has enough worries of it's own. I need to get the girls to an early AM dentist appointment, get them to school, drop Jude off with my sister-in-law, get back to kindergarten to help with "kidwriting", etc., etc.; see what I mean about tomorrow? And we know we are taking steps. What more can really be expected? Today is ending with peace, and I know that we will find the right truck or van, not just "a" truck or van. For this evening though, I found an apple. And proceeded to overwork it in pastel.

uncertain

Uncertainty is hard. Um, yes, I just stated the obvious. So many things in life are uncertain, in fact most things are, we just don't see them that way. Here is what is uncertain for us at the moment. Dan sold his truck last week, because it needed as much work done as to cost more than twice its worth. Then yesterday he sold the minivan he was using as a work vehicle in place of the truck, and set out to buy a new one. He found a very good possibility, but did not actually complete a transaction, because the salesman he was talking to was actually already technically closed, and is supposed to call him on Monday... which is really when he should be at work. Ok, if this is the vehicle that Dan should have , then we will get it on Monday, I guess. It's not an ideal situation. I am amazed at how Dan is handling the stress of all of this needing to work out. I know he is thinking about it, but you wouldn't know it.

So there is one large uncertainty. I take it on faith that the sun will rise in the morning, though that isn't certain. I trust that at the end of each day, we will all be here, snug and warm. I think I can believe that this will work itself out. in the meantime, its quite certain that Dan is doing an incredible job. He is making our lazy Sunday afternoon quite enjoyable. What is certain, is that I love this man.

stormy weather. and multitasking trouble.

Sorry, I have been lax for the last couple of days. My lack of multitasking skills have made it impossible (ok, maybe not, but harder at least) to knit and blog and find some important paperwork and file important paperwork. I am a disorganized, right-brained mess!

But anyway, I have resumed. I tend to label myself as unreliable. I unfortunately tell myself that I don't follow through. How self-defeating is that? I am only on the second month of this, and am expecting to give up. Not wanting to, but simply expecting failure. How silly. I am going to take this one day at a time, and continue to try my best, with no guilt about skipped days. It's helpful to just say this stuff right out, and move on. So on we roll.

Charcoal pencil. Stormy weather.

poor time management

Today I went to the grocery store with Jude while the girls were at school. The store is 20 minutes away, and the kids are in school from 12:50-3:20. So you can see that minus 40 minutes of drive time, I have less than 2 hours to shop for the week and also take the opportunity to connect with a very energetic and attention seeking 4 year old. Not really enough time to lock my keys in the car, wait for Allstate to rescue me, and make it to the carpool line.... So it's a good thing that I went back in the store and inquired at the service desk, 'cause those keys were not inside the minivan. All in all, I think I only lost 10 minutes, what with searching for the keys, going in, coming back, loading the car, and going back in with Jude so that he can pee, then finally getting on the car and pulling away. Oh, the thrills of suburban life.

Earlier, we had gone to the pediatrician's office, and got all the way to school before I realized that Genevieve's backpack had dumped out in the doctor's office parking lot. So back to the doc, run in, grab her folder and book, run back to the car, wave it around triumphantly. My kids clapped. It was adorable. I think it may have been a first; spontaneous applause from the smallies.

Have you looked at a bird lately!? Pretty flippin' amazing. These creatures are painfully cool.

Sunday

Today was a banner day. The morning was movie time, since Viv is sick, so we watched Tinkerbell, and then an entire disc of Schoolhouse Rock. Leftover pizza for lunch. The girls napped with Dan, while Jude and I tried (to no avail) to get Bane to talk to Batman about his feelings, and how maybe jail was enough of a consequence to make him rethink the bad guy thing. Nothing doing.

I made cheeseburgers and French fries for dinner, which was widely accepted by the critical majority, as well as my sweet husband. Then came a game of "Sorry!", which turned to be a great exercise in reading for our kindergartners, and a huge exercise in patience for Dan and me. It is nearly 11pm, and the girls are still awake, which is a direct result of the aforementioned nap. Ah, well, the day was relaxing, I guess that will have to be enough.

guilt, and gilt

I feel guilty that I don't get my kids to a lot of extra curricular stuff. We don't get out and go to the library once a week, they've never been a part of organized sports or dance lessons. I feel like we had three so quickly, that I never really could get a grip on a schedule, or meet a sign up deadline. I don't necessarily think that they are missing out hugely, since these were not things I did as an elementary school student, either. I did a lot of tromping through the woods, creek walking, things that were beautiful and wonderful, but also maybe fed my introverted personality a bit. Maybe if I had to choose between the two, I'd pick what I had as a kid. Sports will be there eventually, though I never really felt like I had a grip on it. But I'm just not that naturally driven or coordinated.

My little people are something extraordinary. They love me so much. It's hard to feel like I'm doing a poor job when they fight to be next to me. Tonight, after I put my little boy to sleep, disentangled his chubby little arms from around my neck and kissed him, I snuggled down with the girls. They were hanging out with Dan, and when I lay down with them, they crowded on either side of me, not content to be simply beside me, but positioned themselves half on me, overlapped close as close, arms around me, little trusting hands finding my hands. We all fell asleep that way, warm and piled up, like a bunch of puppies. That's their favorite way to be. They would sleep like that all night. I'm old, though, and my back just can't take it. So now I get to go deposit them in their beds, tuck them in, and make sure they're still warm and cozy.

About that guilt, though, that I should be doing more... do all Moms feel that way, or guilt that they are doing too much, expecting too much? It seems like a built-in part of parenting, that guilt. Maybe it's just our way of caring, of wanting the best. Don't let the guilt beat you up. It's probably there, whatever the situation.

Reading, writing, and the arithmetic of shrinkydinks

Sometimes this writing and drawing thing is tough to crank out. I don't really wanna buckle down to either task. To tell you the truth I am waiting for Dan to be done with iPad. There's a photo of Rowan on there that I'd like to draw from. But he's researching trucks, since his died, and that's pretty important. I guess. Compared to my blogging commitment, anyway. But, look, I'm writing, so half of my commitment is being fulfilled.

Our shrinky-dink stint has come to an end, at least until I get on amazon and see how much refill sheets cost... We have made magnets, charm necklaces, headbands, and keychains. The small people have taken to making tiny images on the scraps, and I'm trying to explain that they will most likely shrink until they pop and disappear when we bake them...

Ok. Got the iPad, quick sketch complete:

you may notice a theme...

Yup, you're just going to have to deal with me and my current idea rut. Actually, it isn't a rut, it's a groove, and it's meant to go somewhere. So groove with me, people.

gazing

These last couple of posts are sketches that are more about me working out ideas from a story. This is one reason I feel the importance of marrying my technique and my imagination. I want to live the images I end up with, but I want them to appeal to the imagination, not just recall something you've seen before.

It's hard to post these very awkward starts, but there is no way that I could both work on these ideas and also draw for these posts. Actually, I was tempted to post the shrinky-dinks that the girls and I have been doing- that's a ton of drawing!!!

On a side note, I enjoyed my evening with the little ones. I spoiled my kids. I made them hot sweet tea with whipped cream and chocolate shavings, let them eat mini milkyway bars, and then we watched Stuart Little at bed time. It was lovely. There was an abundance of snuggling. So here you have a rough look at Clementine, cloud gazing.

cloud pullers

I have a serious weakness where drawing is concerned. I rely on photographs and real life. My imagination, while vivid, doesn't translate to paper or charcoal or paint or two dimensions at all. Maybe I shouldn't say "at all", but it's an area I'd really like to work on. I try to draw in my usual style, which is realism. But I don't carry clear realistic images in my mind. I can't transcribe my mind's image through my hands. It's almost as if what my mind sees is a concept, and not an image at all. This frustrates me to no end. My style changes completely when I decide to simply draw from my imagination. It becomes all about line and not about volume. Its like a surprise that forms on the paper, one line at a time. I don't mind this, but I would really like to find a way to bring both of my drawing styles together. I think it would be interesting. But first, I need to develop my mind's eye, and learn how to make decisions that aren't based on visual reality. How's that for a post?

I could sleep forever

As it happened, after my triple kids dental appointment on Thursday morning, which lasted 3 hours, I succumbed to exhaustion, and it's not until today, Sunday, that I am beginning to feel normal. By normal, I mean that I might be semi-functional after the kids go to bed tonight.

Scratch that. Not normal, still exhausted, but I did scratch out a drawing. An annoying one. I'd like to write about the wonderful boy who loved and respected his grandmother in the waiting room of the dentist office, but I haven't got it in me, and each day, my memory fades a bit.
I'm just glad that he was there. He was lovely.