Thursday, May 30, 2013

tonight, tomorrow, tttt.... I can't think of another t word.

Okay, so, tomorrow is field day, which is going to be horrible.  I'm going to sweat my way through, with two small people tagging along... actually, they might actually be the fun part.  The girls have no idea what field day means.  They told me that there will be no running races, but there will be waterside races.  Who knows, maybe they're right, wouldn't that be fantastic?  Especially since we are on our third day of 90 plus degrees. 

And then. Two. More. Weeks. Of school. I'm actually not as over it as some moms, because I know how much my three strong personalities are going to need a break from one another, right quick. That sounds like I have Disassociative Identity Disorder, but I was referring to my children.  
 I spent this warm evening baking about 9 dozen cookies. Yup.  The oven was on.  I didn't know about the heat wave when I signed on for this!!! But at least I honored a commitment, plus there are some sweets for our awesome small group tomorrow night.

My point is actually that I did do something with my hands, but it wasn't drawing.  However, my brain is full to bursting, and I have pinned one million inspirational images to a new board, so my apologies to the few if you who follow me on Pinterst, 'cause I just blew up your home page with crazy.

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Wednesday

Today was busy and successful. Now I've got a headache, but honestly, I can go to bed now; I'm so glad this wasn't plaguing me earlier, while doing ten things at once. 

We are weathering this little heat wave with hair up, and sprinkler on.  Our constant struggles continue, there are coughs and colds, and bad attitudes. But there are strong bodies, and teaching moments, and kindnesses, too.  So onward, ho.

Pen and ink on matboard.

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

ego boost

Jude: mommy, why are we taking the wiggly road way home?

Me: because this way we get to see all of the trees and farms, and fields and horses, and the reservoir, and it's pretty.

Jude: the trees are not not pretty to me...

Me: is there something else that's pretty to you?

Jude: yes. You.

Me: thanks, Jude, you're so nice.

Jude: you're nice, and pretty, and kind, and snuggly, and kissy, and tickly!

I'll take it. I'm all those things. I get that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. But I think that our own eyes, my own eyes at least, don't see truly when looking self-ward. And I don't think there's anything wrong with seeing yourself through the eyes of love. What could be more true, more real, more important? Or more healthy?

So do me a favor, the next time you're feeling down on yourself, or insecure. Take a look at yourself through the eyes of someone who really loves you. There's reality there. Not in the mirror. It's backwards, you know...

Aquarelle pencils on matboard.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

good

It does me good to have both charcoal on my face and paint on my hands, to put effort into something that is both selfish (in the joy it gives me) and external.  To have a little part in just putting something out of my heart and into someone else's line of vision, to be vulnerable to subjectivity. Or just to exercise my hands in obedience to an internal nudge.

The weariness of yesterday has lessened considerably, and with it, the oppressive crankiness of my children. Today was better. And I worked on a mural and a little sketch. Big girl trying to fasten a feather in her hair. Vine and conte on board.



Tuesday, May 21, 2013

the next round

Ok. Admittedly, I am having a tough time keeping up with this, now that I allowed myself a break. And the exercise of just forcing myself to draw is losing it's charm. But that is not to say that I'm giving up on it.  I just really kinda want to.

I have been having a difficult time. My patience is running low with the kids.  I try to speak softly, enforce consequences without losing it, but lets face it, it is a constant stream of testing Mommy up in here. Y'all gone make me lose my mind...  Yes, that's right.  So I'm trying to set an example, but I'm failing left and right. And still, I want to teach these small humans how to handle their frustrations with grace...

Lots of trailing off at the ends of sentences, lots of tired sighs. An abundance of nervy fidgeting, but there's blessing in making a choice. To continue to try. To admit temporary defeat, but still make an effort to win the next round.

It's only Tuesday, and after a truly lovely weekend, I'm getting all weary. It's not how I'd like to be. So I won't. The girls picked some gorgeous funky wildflowers on Saturday, and I promised myself I'd draw them, so here you are.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

vertical and horizontal

I wish I had something to say. I don't really. I wish I had thoughts and feelings just bursting to get out, to be written in the sky. I may actually have feelings and thoughts like that. The problem is that they are not concrete, delineated with words. They're more abstract, indescribable, and all the more bursting to be expressed. So I feel a bit like a colorfield painting. A meaningful silence. I'm ridiculous. Perhaps that's why I have to make things.

I've given up on this writing and drawing space for a bit, concentrating instead on resting when possible, and recuperating myself and my family from some nasty illnesses. I feel like we are back on a normalish track, so I'm back here as well. Maybe I said this last post. Oh well!

My kids are being really mean to each other right now. As I write. Crying and poking each other in the eye, it would seem. But now, amidst tears and recriminations, there was explanation and understanding; apology and forgiveness. In short, they worked it out. Just when I was feeling so exasperated with the purposeful aggression, they turned it around, and actually put into practice what we have been trying so hard to instill in them. I can't express to you how happy this makes me. This I could write in the sky. My children expressed love, and in doing so, drove out anger. They extended grace and redeemed a hurtful moment. That is something to say. It's a microcosm of how to live life.

The direction was switched, turned perpendicular, and harmony was restored. Here are some verticals and horizontals that looked harmoniously perpendicular to me, glancing out of the kitchen window. See how I tied that in? I know, it's a stretch. Conte on board.

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

rest for now

So, I've mostly been conserving my energy. Sleeping whenever possible, being still, drinking water.  Recovering.  I just do not have it in me to draw yet.  The kids seem good. In the clear, I truly hope!  Me, I think I'm on the road to feeling normal again.  Til then, I shall be resting both my fingers and brain.  

Friday, May 3, 2013

signs. Not the creepy, crop circle, chattery-on-the-baby-monitor kind.

Signs that the family is recovering well:

I took a shower. What the what? Yes. I did. I left the three small humans unattended, watching movies in 2 separate rooms. I felt they were well enough to go 10 minutes without needing me. I also deadbolted the door. The front door, not the bathroom door, silly!

I dried my hair. Holy Moses! They did so well, that I stuck one small human in the bathtub, left the other two with said movie, and fully dried my hair. Another 20 minutes of successful, pain-free, self-sufficiency.

I may have arranged the apps on my phone by color. It may not last, as it may not be an arrangement that lends to smooth functionality... But it may look pretty. I'm almost admitting to this ultimate "I have time on my hands" move.

I also took a picture of the patina on my soap dish, and made a painting of it. Ok, I haven't yet made it yet, but I'm hoping I will have by tonight, when I post this.

Yes, it's all about me. I also know that Rowan is doing better, because I look at her and know that she's being a tiny bit of a drama queen. I can tell her to stop being so wienerrific. Two days ago, every hollow and curve of her face was a sacred relief in palest ivory, and I touched her skin as if it were delicate parchment vellum. Yeah, I know, I'M a bit of a drama queen.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Sick post. Once again.

A small, slim girl is crouched, waiting, tense. I can feel her light bones, still so tiny, she is six. I can feel all of her muscles coiled cruelly, her angry insides throwing out everything that isn't nailed down. This small person, I am in charge of. I can get her to settle down, to sleep. It's amazing to me that I could be utter comfort to another human. And yet, I can't fix this, I can't make the liquid that she swallows stay down where it belongs, where its needed. And I know that if this continues into tomorrow, I'm going to have to go back to the doctor, yet again, because if she can't get hydrated, then she could really be in trouble.

Normally, I'm not terribly phased by a stomach virus. Genevieve has it, but more mildly, and not the throwing up. I think I had it last night, but it was very annoying nausea only, that I was able to sleep away. Jude and Dan seem good so far. My kids usually pass it around to one another; annoyingly, it seems to skip a day or two, and then show up in the next kid, just when we thought the coast was clear. But it usually doesn't last in one child for more than 12 hrs. So this is new. This is a mean bug. I am getting angry. It's a familiar feeling. I used to get so mad when I threw up as a pregnant mom, so frustrated that my babes weren't getting the stuff I ate, just for their especial benefit. But this is different. I want to take this pain and gladly do all the throwing up and dry heaving. I just want it to leave my baby alone!

I was so excited when she drank down the blue Gatorade that I got her. She smiled and declared her 'belly was laughing', because it tasted so good. She is a self proclaimed bottomless pit, and was so irritated that she didn't get to eat anything today. She wanted to dig her teeth into some real food. We tried broth, it came back up, water, no go, Gatorade, nope. The pedialyte I had high hopes for, maybe it would be more gentle on her belly. But that didn't work either. Maybe she was too greedy, and guzzled too fast. Like I said, she really wants to eat. So now she's in bed, with one sip of water and one of pedialyte in her stomach. Two precious sips. Stay down! Hurry and be absorbed before the evil bouncer germ sends you packing! Please, oh please.