the day before Easter

These wild children have had enough of each other. And I have had enough of spring break. I wish that we had the kind of week where we all realize how much we like one another. A week when, at the end, we all settle in with a flop, and sigh, "... I love my family..." I don't think that it didn't happen just because we don't have superpowers. It does happen sometimes; we feel all the warm, contented things that we're supposed to feel about family.

Ok. I was just interrupted by screams. The loud kind. Case in point. But after a time of discipline and a time of "steam roller"(don't ask), I'm actually getting the warm fuzzies. See, all I needed to do was blog about it, and presto, perfection achieved. Right? Ha! Not just yet.

But today was good. My small people are clean, and asleep, and they egg-hunted to their hearts content. Dan and I sat at the kitchen table and he played his guitar, and I drew. Now THAT doesn't happen too often. It was lovely. The resulting drawing is somewhat mediocre, but it does bear a resemblance to Vivi, staring out the window and trying hard to fight her instincts, which are to look right at me and grin.

springy

I've been sighting the groundhog on our back hill this week. The girls named her Jesus a couple of years ago. I love that. What's more, this morning, the chipmunk is out in a posture of absolute commitment, chirping away, calling for a mate. Stock still, determined on the back step. He knows what's up. Seriously, the little dude has been at it for the last two hours, and he's showing no signs of stopping, his little cheeks puffing up rhythmically.

I have been really uninspired by the things around me, when it comes to drawing. I'm going to see if I can rope the kids into posing for me today. I know their attention spans won't deliver much of a sitting, but even a few minutes of sketching from life should put me back in a good head space.

Ok. A barely acceptable section. Rowan's eyes and nose.

European weeping scribbelicious

I think this tree might be my favorite ever. There are a lot of trees to love. So many graceful shapes, gorgeous colors, stunning leaves. But the European weeping beech tree is just a waterfall of jade leaves, that to me just scream art nouveau. And I can't look away. This is a scribbly rendition of my dear favorite. I am looking forward to when this guy is sprouting leaves. It won't be long now!

Oh, and the girls went to see Pinkalicious the musical today, so that was nice. And what on earth is this spring break before Easter in PA thing???? I'm still such a Delaware girl.

Aqua-ish circles

I am a slacker. These posts are slowing way down. I'm trying to not be okay with that. But it's hard; complacency seems to be my default setting. Today's drawing was done on shrink film. I photographed it before shrinking, arranged them in a design I found attractive, and popped then into the oven.

So I love shrinky-dinks. Sue me. These are little circles (in case you didn't recognize that obscure shape), colored with prismacolors to look kinda like trompe l'oeil spheres. I arranged them as closely as I could to the original design, and attached them together. It's an assymetric necklace. To me, it felt like making a little abstract painting. And it took a while, so that's what we've got for tonight!

and this is how I feel

I'm pretty pissed off right now. I'm vaguely aware that that might be vulgar or crass or unseemly of me to say. But that is how I feel, and it isn't pretty.

I feel like I'm fighting off an anxiety attack, and keeping at bay my tendency to list my grievances, thereby blowing up my present frustration to epic proportions. I feel like I'm mad at my kids for being sick, and mad at myself for not being able to make them better. They were pretty much on the verge of being all better, after weeks of one thing after another after another. And now they are going downhill again, due to not enough rest, or a newly loosened batch of mucous in their lungs, or Daddy picking up a new bug from his weekend away, or all of the above.

But this is my life, and we are going to take it one hour at a time, one dose of medicine at a time, and I'm going to take a deep breath and stop clutching frantically at my head. And I'm going to sketch a little and pray a lot, and rest now, while I can.

mad coping skills

My 7 stages of coping with stress:
1) Make a list of all the horrible things that have happened.
2) Go over the list.
3) Be horrified at the length of said list.
4) Read it out loud, until tears are provoked.
5) Make sure to go back and edit; sometimes one item can be broken into two separate items, which will definitely be more overwhelming.
6) Ask yourself, "WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?"
7) Pout. Pout real good.

I'm not kidding, I do this. Maybe not on paper, but at least mentally. And I just wanted to come clean, because I can't imagine a better way of breaking the cycle. Waaaaaah! Somebody call the wambulance.

funny/quick

The short ones have started to be funny again, which means that they must be feeling better. Or it could mean that lack of sleep and an over-abundance of stress and worry have led me to utter hysteria. You decide.

Jude: Mom! Rowan is leaving the table, and she's not duuu-uuuun!
Rowan: (sitting down calmly on the toilet) Jude, don't judge me.

Forgetful.

So there's something you need to know about me if you're gonna read this. If you've read these posts before, you won't be surprised. I complain a lot. About being tired. About the never ending job of mothering and housekeeping. I like to think that I also might mention the rewards in passing as well, but let's face it. I vent here.

My kids are all on various degrees and combinations of drugs that are designed to make their lungs function better. The girls have infection induced asthma, and this winter it seems like they are coughing and wheezing more than breathing normally. Even Jude, who doesn't seem so susceptible to the evil wheeze, is on an inhaler regimen and an oral steroid. The girls are also on the nebulizer. One drug makes their heart race, one makes them jittery, one makes them emotional and antagonistic. They are like little tyrannical strangers with personality disorders. Sometimes one pops up that I recognize. Last week they all had a viral thing with fevers and coughs that morphed into the current lung trouble. Last night Rowan awoke, screaming in pain, and woke with a steady drainage from her ear and a perforated eardrum. Dan got her to a clinic and we have now added an antibiotic and antibiotic ear drops to her cocktail of crazy. And don't forget the Motrin for pain management! Wow. And I feel like we're on the upswing. This is one wild ride.

I had a lovely afternoon away. I came back to sweet kids, full of snuggles, and I gave them their final meds and tucked them in bed. This was quite an improvement, a much needed reminder that I have nice, mostly reasonable, human offspring. I'll try to remind myself of that in the middle of the night, and in the morning. Poor little buggers. Their mom forgets too easily.

freefall

So many days go by without me being able to string together two coherent thoughts. And by 'thoughts' I mean something other than: did I run the dishwasher or switch the laundry, or is one of the kids due for a nebulizer treatment, or what can I scrape together for dinner.

I let the time fly without realizing life. And then I switch into drawing mode, which is valuable and important, but it's a separate part of my brain, and it often turns off the introspection. I turn inward to color and line and texture. I'd like to be more aware. Just a bit more present than my current mode of getting by. More sleep will enable me to look up and take in the scenery more, rather than close my eyes and allow things to pass me in a blur. I can't slow it down, so I may as well get all I can out of the freefall.

Fauve landscape and my own wild ones

There is something about having all three kids miserably sick that brings a measure of peace. I mean, let's face it, they're all laid out in the living room watching Happy Feet. That's not what I meant, though. I am not waiting for any more kids to catch the fever, I'm not dividing myself between comforting and treating the sick and making sure the well don't get neglected.

I suppose this is a virus. I've got a call in to the doctor, and when I talk to her, I will feel even better. Either I'll bring them in, or I won't. But it will be decided. And I am mentally prepared for getting no sleep. Just accepting the situation does wonders for my frustration level.

My little Rowan told me at bedtime, "I was so dizzy today, I was like ER dizzy..." What? What do you mean, honey? "I was so dizzy, I should have gone to the emergency room!"

Heavens, this girl knows drama!

This was a lot more fun than the last one.

corny blue dusk

Jude's response to me, asking if he'd like some water, when he popped up from his bed looking confused, was:

"NEVER!"

I'll have to cut him some slack, he has a fever...

This parenting stuff sure has its moments.

I don't generally go in for picturesque sunsets. They are stunning to observe, but pretty cheesy in most artist renditions. However, the dusk sky was really lovely over the weekend, so I thought I'd take a stab at it. Oh yeah, that's super cheesy. Oh well, what's done is done. It's actually horizontal; blogger is a little annoying about that, so you only get half of the image, unless you click on it.

nope, still no.

Have I mentioned that I hate colored pencils? Hate them. Every once in a while I try them out again... the little people have so much fun using them, it's tempting. But then I learn my lesson. Ick. Especially these awful waxy crayolas. This is my very cute little niece. She just spent a couple of days with us, so I selfishly took a few pictures of some fresh subject matter. I can't seem to get this slightly ornery look off her face. In all actuality, she had a very innocent expression.