the grace I needed.

While wrestling mentally with how best to respond to my kids behavior, a freeing thought occurred to me. 

It doesn't matter. 

Not in the way that I often feel it matters. I'm never going to be a perfect mom with the answer to everything. But as long as I respond in truth and love, I can't miss the mark too badly. Whatever the consequence(within reason), whatever the issue, if I respond with love as the foundation, no matter what, I'm doing ok. 

A loving warning, a loving reprimand, a loving chance for them to work it out for a few more minutes, or a loving, "sorry, beans, but this is not acceptable and this is the consequence". There might be varying degrees of success, but the love is paramount. So, deep breath, they're just kids, but mom up. They need loving boundaries.  It's not loving to ignore behavioral problems, nor is it loving to flip out and have a Mommy tantrum.  Between these extremes, there is a lot of room. Room for trial and error, room for communication, room for trying new methods, room for growing, all of us together.  Maybe it's not earth-shattering, but it was the grace I needed.

Also, in cleaning out some long-neglected nooks and corners, I found this. An old self portrait in oils. It was oddly reminiscent of the last post, so I threw it up for comparison.

simple

Ok, yes, August has been the worst blogging month yet.  I have not even remotely attempted to draw every day.  Not even remotely.  I have probably thought about it every day, but that is nothing new. It's the practice, the discipline that is supposed to be happening.  In my defense, I have actually been knitting, and crafting in various ways.  But still, not every day. I'm still trying to work out how to make it happen. 

I think, for me, the summer was tougher(on the drawing end, not in a more general sense), because we have more family time, and less structure. And I have had my Dan around in the evenings, which is special and important, and its about to end. The school year is beginning, and with it, his directorial duties. Sigh.  But it's a blessing for us to be here. Unsigh.  

All these mixed emotions are tumbling about in my head, making my brain feel like a dryer full of shoes. One thought bumps another, roughly, loudly, and I can't focus on any one thought for very long. Transition has me a bit skittish, and though transition has not yet arrived, it's shadow is edging in on my consciousness.  A strange greenish light, an impending storm. 

Kids going to school, me trying to illustrate a book, feeling like a fool for trying, knowing that I must, that it's obedience.  Dan working hard, doing so well, as we try to figure out how to be responsible, how to not just be mindless consumers. Really truly attempting to make moral decisions with our money, wanting to live rightly. To not be stingy with all that we have. Time is precious, but we have to give it away.

Simple. Right?

Peace

So here is my drawing for the day, for a friend.  I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out.  

Dan and I just had a couple of days away together for our thirteenth anniversary.  This was such a blessing, as I honestly cannot remember when we last had that much uninterrupted time together.  We had a great time, but man, that much eating out can really make you feel gross!  But we were spoiled by a lack of schedule, and were indulgently in charge of no one but ourselves.  

Marriage is hard.  It's a constant battle to put myself second, and my husband and marriage first.  It doesn't come naturally, but nothing could be more fulfilling.  Because when we are both doing that for each other, we find our needs met in a way that we could never have anticipated.  It's hard as a mom, also, to put my marriage ahead of my kids on the priority list.  Some of you may not agree, but I truly think it's important.  It is my natural instinct as a mother to care for my little ones, and let my husband fend for himself.  Because they are small, and they need me.  But Dan needs me, too.  He needs to know that he is on my mind and in my heart.  He needs to know that he is being cared for, as he works hard, at two full time jobs, that I notice, that I want to help out, with little actions, and with words, with gestures of affection, and taking care of small tasks that he's asked me not to forget.  With purposeful connection, even when I'm tired from a frustrating day.  He needs to know that I love him, that he's my best friend, and that I'm IN love with him, that just because we have children, we are not parents only, but lovers.  And I need to know that as well.

light for an adjustment

I'm having one of those days where my kids can't do anything right. You know, where they are just bad and it has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that I'm cranky and preoccupied...

Right. Since, as the sole adult in the house while Dan is at work, it's my job to set the tone, you all know that I'm full of crap. Full up. So, what better way to make a switch in my soul than to shine a light on it, and really see what a jerk I'm being.  

Hopefully after a pile of toast (for real, I think toast might be the most perfect food), and some more coffee, not to mention a little quiet reflection on my cranky affliction, there shall be an adjustment.

Adjustment maintained, sort of. I'm not going to make a whole new post for the mural today, so here's an edit/addition to today's text. Bird on a branch.

the gorgeous ordinary

Dan's been checking the blog for new posts every day, and I believe he is getting annoyed at my lackadaisical attitude.  But let's face it, I am tired.  And lazy.  And I feel guilty when I take time to draw if the house is a mess.  And the house. Is. A mess.

But I knocked out four hours on the second mural today, and that I can feel good about, because it's big, and I made progress, and it's for someone else, and there's that small matter if it also being paid work.  So no guilt there.  

About the house.  I am ok with general upkeep on a regular week.  But change up the schedule, send me away for a weekend, put my kids in camp, add on extra laundry loads, and I am thrown for an awful loop.  I'm not sure why. I get overwhelmed and cranky, and I think a bit depressed.  If it's actually depression, though, it's mild, because I can get out of it with a bit of effort, loud music, and some headway made in housecleaning.   

But its so very easy to slip back in.  I'm cranky with my small boy, who is just asking me annoying questions to keep my focus on him, to engage me in conversation.  He doesn't mean to be annoying.  And really, he's not, he's just four.  So while I'm driving, I reach behind me to his little leg, and squeeze it, and let him know that my focus is on him, and I love him, and I'm trying again.  He takes my hand in both of his, and presses his honest little lips to my palm.  I can feel his unbelievable bouncy cheeks on my fingers.  And just like that, I'm back in the moment. 

I'm tired this morning, driving the girls to horse camp.  And Viv tells me that provolone cheese is "one dimensional".  What?  This starts a good conversation about one dimensional versus two-dimensional, and I am impressed with both my six-year-old's recall, and her awesome Kindergarten teacher.  Back in the moment.  Why would I ever leave it?

Rowan gives me a super long kiss on my cheek at bedtime tonight.  I ask her if she thinks longer is better, and she explains that it's like a gas tank, and she just put in lots of love.  I'm not sure if my heart just constricted or grew a grinchy size, but I'm back in it.  Now to just stay in it a little longer, clean the kitchen, and watch a movie with my best friend.  This won't be hard.  These moments are a gorgeous strand of ordinary, dazzling beauty.

mural detail. Long shadows, clasped hands, dancing feet:

dance and sail

I have invented a dance. It's very awkward. My son loves it, and it cracks him up. One of these days, my luck is going to run out, and someone is going to see me doing these ridiculous moves. But I can't resist his laugh.

Today I took the kids with me to church and got the second mural blocked out with black outlines.  The shrimpies were pretty well-behaved and watched a movie, but I lost track of time, so no pictures today; I had to fly out of there, run through trader joe's, and sail back home to knock out a glorious curry.  I have a mini-van, it's like a ship.  So I sail. I'm hoping you we're able to sail your way through that run-on sentence.

Ink on paper. La Luna.

I love you

Today was a day full of goodness.  Full of family, full of kids, full of food, full of conversations, full of sun and rain and water balloons and muddy feet and fireflies.

It also happens to be Father's Day, which we celebrated with both sides of our family at once, with six fathers in attendance... We were missing a few, but overall it was still good. And it was presided over  gracefully by my host/husband extraordinaire. What a father he is. Kind, gentle, patient, spontaneous, funny, generous, protective, and humble.  He is just the best.  I'm so glad he's the father of my children.  Quirky little drawing about love. Ink on bristol.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

family project

The morning was rough for us, I was not enjoying my kids' lack of enthusiasm for daily tasks. I decided that once I dropped the girls at Kindergarten, I would not go back and perpetuate the unpleasant pattern. So Jude and I had a date. It started with a woodsy ramble, there was gelato and chai in the middle, and it ended with a playground. Then we scooped up the girls, and went home.

We continued to ignore the indoors and started a project out on the porch. We planned a family game night for this evening, and I had it in my head to play parcheesi. But we don't have a board, so I figured we could make one. We found a perfectly sized piece of plywood in the basement and plunged right in. Sanding, gesso, some fairly quick research and lines drawn, then the paint!

Admittedly, I didn't think the color scheme through... Teal, purple, coral, and pale yellow. Yeah. I handed each kid a cup of one color and a brush, told them to do their best to stay in the lines, and before we knew it, we were done! Kind of.
After it dried, I sanded a bit, brushed a bit of glaze to tone it down, and drew the lines again... The first run of parcheesi went so-so. We will definitely do it again.
Cause we've got this big honking board now...

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.

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.

Idyll

These last few days have been really lovely. Easter weekend was a blur of egg hunts and family functions, and cute outfits, which were fun, but it's good to be home and drinking in the weather with my small charges.

Each of them has taken a turn falling on concrete, and my girls have been dramatically hobbling around with a walking stick, trying not to bend their knees. We have lain in the feather-soft clover, reading books and watching clouds. We have ignored the inside of the house and gotten a bit sunburnt. We have made large quantities of mud soup, which the girls have labeled "bunny oatmeal".

I am a happy girl right now. My three stinkers are sleeping, and in their sleep these kids are a delight. I mean, what's cuter than a snoring 4 year old? or one that asks, almost asleep, "Mommy, will you wrap me as a cheese stick and tuck me in?" How about a 2 year old boy who wants to sleep with his "baby truck"? But truly, they are a delight when awake as well. Genevieve told both Dan and I that we looked "fabulous" on Easter morning. Jude demands regularly, "hug me! kiss me too!" and how am I to refuse? I mean, really, have you seen him?

Yes, I suppose that I am on an upswing. And yes, it does seem that I swing. A lot. A whole lot. But whatever slight leanings I may have toward the bi-polar, I feel that the adjustments I am making to even out are not as extreme as they used to be. Probably it has a lot to do with the fact that after 4 years, I am getting better at parenting. I am taking so seriously the fact that these characters are in my hands, mine and Dan's and God's. And I am not forgetting about the grace that is has been so sweetly extended to me.

If it sounds like I'm giving myself a pep-talk, well, maybe I am.

I think it's important to be able to express oneself. Very important. I also feel that learning how to do things the right way is important. Take painting, for example. Going to school and learning how to paint in the traditional way, and also learning the history of painting gives me so much more context and understanding when it come to art that is more expressive and less traditional. All of that color and texture and shape and crazy means so much more in the light of what came before.

I often hear people say "my kid could do that" about a primitive looking, or completely abstract painting. Maybe, maybe not. The point is, though, that we examine what it is that really makes a piece art. Is is the likeness to the subject matter? what if there is no actual subject matter? Is it the use of color, shape, and proportion, the composition? Is it the outpouring of the soul? Or the intellectual decisions made in the process?

There is of course more than one answer to the question. But what I am getting at is that once you learn the proper, or traditional way to do something, I think that it makes the radical or non-traditional way more fun, more interesting, and maybe even better.

I know a lot less about music, but I would also say that learning from a teacher how to do things the traditional way might make your personal musical efforts, however untraditional, better. Of course in any artistic situation there is the argument for the genius of the untrained, or primitive. I get that too. I don't know, I'm just thinking here. I believe that training actually facilitates self-expression.

My main thought, though, is about discipline. I want my kids to be self expressive, I want them to find out who they are. I want them to feel encouraged and not squashed, by me and Dan. But I also want them to be obedient, to respect authority, to understand the importance of listening to those who have more wisdom than they. I want to find a balance here. I am trying to teach them that their thoughts, their opinions, their desires are important to me, that I want to hear them.. I also want them to obey. I don't think it's healthy for a 2 or 4 year old kid to control the household, or make all their own decisions.

So where do you draw the line? I am trying to get these amazing little people to understand that some rules are non-negotiable. That when they are told to do something, they need to obey first, and then, if they have questions about why, or ideas about doing it a different way, we can talk about it. AFTER they obey. I want them to know that I love them, and many of our rules exist to protect them, and others to teach them about how to go about the business of life. There are so many differing opinions about how to raise children. Sometimes, when I am overwhelmed, I will go and read parenting books, and sheesh! So. Many. Opinions. I am trying to weigh out the fact that I want control (in my own human, frail state) over my kids, with the need that they actually have for boundaries. I want to do it right. And wanting to do it right is not enough. I have to pay attention to what I do, all the time, because there are small but very sharp eyes observing me, learning from me, imitating me.

Parenting is nuts. Sometimes I feel like the 'faint of heart', the one who should never have signed up for the challenge. But in truth, I love this. I love when the kids demonstrate that it's working... not so much when they display a need for correction, but hey, they can't be perfect all the time. or even most of the time. Anyway, who would want little no-stress robots? Not I. Right? I will take difficult but interesting, over easy but boring any day. Any day.

flying my own little freak flag

The kids have me on a bit of a roller coaster lately. To be honest, I have myself on a bit of a roller coaster.

Kids:

Jude is hilarious, for instance, yesterday he took of his pj's put on the girl's butterfly wings, and stated,

I Daddy Di-doo-bew (Tinkerbell).

He also has been telling me that he's a man, and playing practical jokes on me. He's a total blast, but he is also defying me, and being very testy. Trying to find the best way to address this is so challenging!

The girls each have their own brand of both wonderful and horrible. Rowan is the sweetest little affectionate girl, but is a bit scatter-brained, and sometimes I fear that she is pretending to not hear me, and is wantonly ignoring me. Very frustrating. Genevieve is so dear and quirky in her particular tastes, but is trying to run the show and control everything. I am trying to be patient with these two, but they want to test me at every turn. Good thing they are so sweet and funny to balance things out!

Me:

I am seeing lately that some of my little peculiarities are maybe more than quirks. Maybe I have a bit of social anxiety. Sometimes being in a crowd of people can make me so uncomfortable I think I might crawl out of my skin. Not all the time, but in particular groups. Specifically a lot of other young married couples, with or without kids. Not in small groups, just large ones. Weird. And on several occasions through the years, I have had people tell me that they thought I did not like them. I actually attribute that to the fact that I can be very uncomfortable in groups of people that number, oh, maybe 8 or more... nutball, I know! But I often have a very strong feeling that people don't like me, which is funny, since I apparently am giving off that vibe, too.

Oh, people, I am sorry if I ever gave you that impression! And I am sorry that I am so unbelievably sensitive and read into the slightest little thing... Sigh. I feel so isolated so easily, and then swing the other way on a high, if I get to see a couple of friends over the course of a week. I am truly uncertain of what my next steps should be in attempting to normalize. I really can't just bury myself in housework, although my more than usually clean house has me feeling quite proud of myself!

So anyway, I'm gonna pray, and I'm gonna try to extend the grace to my children that Christ so graciously extends to me on a daily basis. I'm gonna keep making things, because my silly phobias even extend to etsy, and I get nervous to put my little crafty bits up for scrutiny. And I'm gonna keep writing here, because it helps, even if I feel a little vulnerable and silly.

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.