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.

Since I'm not in therapy

I'll tell you what - the idea of weekly therapy has always sounded like bliss to me. Now those of you who get to, or have to, go to therapy might correct me, and I will humbly accept the correction, because I have never gone to weekly therapy or counseling, or whatever one should call it.

A 50 minute hour, all about me, where I can spout off whatever crap is on my mind, where I can just vent my frustrations, insecurities, failures, triumphs, etc., to a neutral party. Where I don't need to worry about who hears me, whom I might hurt, whether or not I am making a mountain out of a molehill. Where maybe some intelligent, objective observer might call me out on my silly foibles, and unreasonable reactions.

Well, I am not in therapy, so you get to hear my whining voice. It's not always whiny I hope, because, boy, who would ever want to read this?

I have issues, man. Not anything earth shattering, but gosh, I would like to feel like an adult. Much of the time I feel like an insecure teenager who really doesn't know how to make sense of things. Now, when I really think about it, I am being overly dramatic. If I were to compare my present self to my high school self, there would be a very large difference. But for heaven's sake, why am I so uncomfortable with myself still? Why do I still feel like I am waiting to know who I am? It's really silly and irritating. I stop to think about why I feel this way, and I am unsure, as usual. I just second guess myself much of the time. Now maybe this has to do more with the fact that my decisions directly affect the small people around me, in a way that is still new to me, and very weighty. Possibly.

One thing I need to do more often is stop and take a look at the things I know are true. And accept what I am and what I am not. I am a painter. I am not a singer. I am a mother, a good one. I am not a career woman. I am a picture framer, a fairly knowledgeable one. I am not as good at it as I used to be, because I only do it one day a week now. That's ok. The things I make, I try to make well. I am not a multi-tasker. I am not the best conversationalist. I am a good listener. I don't make friends easily. That makes me sad, but when I do make a connection, it is a strong one, and lasts. I have not been weighed and found wanting, because my Creator knew what he was doing when he made me. I may not be at my full potential, but I'm going to keep trying.

See, I'm workin' it out. Therapy might be awesome, but for now I've got you.

Tater

Oh, things that happen around here just crack me up. Sometimes I don't write them down fast enough, and I forget about it, which makes me sad. Sometimes I have the presence of mind to jot it down or take a picture, which is great.

Baby potato head. awesome. The girls found a small potato head toy at my parents house, and they brought it home to be the baby to their large sized potato heads. The large features fit on the baby head, it's pretty great. I found it staring at me the other morning.

To be perfectly exhausted, I am... I mean, to be perfectly honest, I am exhausted. Man, for real. Things are going pretty well, but I need some time with adults and some non-child-related conversation.

Valla-Tine's

To tell you the truth, I have never had big expectations for Valentine's Day. With or without a boyfriend or husband, I am quite surprised when someone marks the occasion in any way. My dear husband is not one for jumping on bandwagons. In fact, he kind of dislikes things on principle if there is any kind of mob mentality or trendy aspect to them. So today, we kissed each other and said "Happy Valentines Day", and that was pretty much it. The kids and I had a crafty little time, making Valentines for their cousins. They lost interest faster than usual, and went to sleep. They woke up this morning with some kind of stomach bug. Oh well.

I really don't mind, or feel bad, except that I wish the poor buggers weren't sick. Maybe it just comes with a certain amount of time and perspective. I like a good excuse to cut out heart shaped snowflakes and decorate with pink and red. But really, I just want to remember that like my kids, I can make a "Valla-Tine" any day of the year, that we should do little things for one another that say "I love you" as often as possible, and not wait until a holiday dictates that we're supposed to. Anything heart shaped is a valentine as far as they are concerned. Anything that says that you care fits the bill in my book. Today, we got 'em both. Sweet.

a drawing by janet

My paternal grandmother passed away the spring before Dan and I got married. I was very thankful that he had gotten to meet her. She was quite a character, and full of sayings that still crack me up. If she happened to be airing her opinions to a not-so-attentive crowd, she would loudly declare, "Talk to the wall, Janet!". The first time I heard her do that I couldn't stop laughing. That wasn't the reaction that she was looking for, I assume, but at least she had my attention...

I don't know all that much about her life; I wish that I knew more. As a child and a teenager, I was not so great at asking questions, as much as I enjoyed any story she would tell. Actually, I am not so great at that now, either. She had a difficult life in some ways, though. My grandfather left her with 3 kids, when my Dad was very young. She had gone to school for fashion design, but to my knowledge, never worked in that field. I can understand what frustration she might have felt having three young children, and trying to make ends meet, working secretarial jobs, and wanting to create things. Fortunately, we have drawings that she did while in school, and recently got some more. It was so fun to leaf through all these yellowed and delicate sketches from the 1940's. For my birthday last month, my parents gave me one of these drawings and gave me cart blanche to frame it however I would like. It makes me very happy, and now hangs in our living room.
Forgive the reflections, but isn't she lovely? I really should have taken a good shot before I put the glass on it, but I was too excited to remember to take my camera to work! Here is a closer shot. She reminds me of photos of my Grandma, all tall and thin and elegant. Maybe I can get my Dad to scan a photo and email it to me... Hint hint, Dad! Should have thought of that before, also.

Owl vs. Penguin

I drew a baby penguin for Jude, since lately he's really into Happy Feet. He told me that it was not a penguin, but an owl. Just to prove to myself that it was not an owl, I drew an owl also. they are kinda similar.