rainy day, happy fish

When I'm feeling a little bit uninspired by motherhood, a bit of ennui, there is one thing that never fails to lift me.  The beauty that my little people create.

Here is a sample of the latest in 5-year-old artistic efforts. The top one is Rowan's, and contains a school of goldfish surrounding their clownfish "teacher", as well as a happily spouting whale. oh yes. the heart sings. pure sweetness.

 And secondly, we have a fishing scene. I will admit to drawing the blue fish in the middle, and then leaving the paper on the floor. I returned to find Genevieve creating a whole scene around it, more fish and bubbles, a distant fuzzy whale, calling out in his whale voice (the concentric semicircles), and herself with a fishing rod, on which she has caught a lady tadpole who just got married (the black shuttlecock shape).  There are also many ripples in the water caused by the fishing rod and the swimming fishes.  I may be biased, but I'm feeling Miro. For real, look at these two images, such fun!

a little progress

Recently I got my act together a little bit and started to make our bedroom a place that is pleasant, and not a dumping ground for the things I don't know what to do with, or am too lazy to do the thing that needs to be done with them.... Our bureau was a trash heap of things to be filed, so I cleared it off, filed/shredded, and now you can see the surface.  I put some odds and ends that I have hoarded over the years into frames.  They are colors and textures that make me happy.

back!

Ok.  I have not posted since January.  The reasons for this are simply that I have  not had regular internet service, and I have no interest in trying to type out a blog post from my iPhone.  Some people may be good at this, but I think the auto-correct might be the death of me.  One typo or wrong word substitution, and the enjoyment of a post is greatly lessened for me.


Don't you(all 3 of you) get sick and tired of hearing me whine about how hard it is to be a mother?  I do.  Seriously sick of it.  I am so easily taken off course.  I set out with the best intentions (on my way to Hell, apparently), and before I get too far, I am impatient and cranky, and expecting too much or overreacting, and I am missing the meaning of my life.  Here's to not missing it so much anymore. And to documenting it a bit more.  And maybe to writing on my phone, because then I can upload some photos, because what's a blog post without some good pictures?

fantastic

What is it about fantasy that so strikes my soul? I mean, I can read plenty of books, and I do, about regular people, and though I may love it, it never sucks my brain in quite like Tolkien, or C.S. Lewis, or even Harry potter or Twilight for that matter! Maybe it's obvious. I crave an alternate reality. Perhaps I am discontent with myself. I would prefer to have magical powers, or some kind of mythical secret friends... whatever it is about fantasy, it really just gets its hooks into my brain, taps into some yearning in a way that nothing else does. But I guess that is a reflection of my broken state, and that something within me reaches out for what I should have been, if the Fall had never occurred, or what I should be, were I living up to my full potential.

Stephanie Meyer may have been on to something with this vampire thing; a perfected version of humanity, at least the "vegetarian" ones... what with the super human strength, speed, indestructibility, and beauty; it reminds me of what we will be like eventually, with our new bodies. Does that sound crazy? Of course it does. But what seems to me like a bit of sense is when Paul talks about running the race in such a way as to win. And seeing ourselves perfected in Christ, our completion, the way that we are being perfected through our trials. And how now, we see but in part, but one day we will see clearly. That is what I yearn for, I think.

I do believe that someone else described our new bodies and minds in a similar way, how, though we are still ourselves, recognizable, we will be beautiful beyond compare, and our understanding will so surpass what we can grasp now... maybe we will actually use all of our brains, not just a measley 10%. Was it C.S. Lewis in The Great Divorce? I think I might need to reread that. I think that's what I am thinking of, though. Seeing those who had died, looking like themselves, and yet more glorious than any earthly person.

I had a conversation with my girls tonight, about heaven, and seeing Jesus. At times, my reaction is to shy away from giving them direct answers to their questions, or discourage them from thinking too literally about what heaven may be like. But what do I know? Didn't Christ teach us that our faith needs to be like that of a child? That is really hitting me lately, so I just listened to them tell me that they were excited to see Jesus, that they knew that they would be able to run so fast as to fly, and that they would be able to go with him into the clouds. This was all prompted by their telling me how unrealistic Jack and the Beanstalk is, since a cloud could never hold a heavy house, nor could a hen lay golden eggs. But they get that nothing is impossible with Christ. They are 5, and they are teaching me so much.

the best

Among the crunchy leaves, our mud-proof boots strapped on, and smiles plastered to our faces, we can't resist the late autumn sun! We won't throw away our gift of joy, but hold it, cradled in our chapped hands, relishing it's softness, it's warmth, it's crisp crunch, and it's pumpkin ridges.

All of these moments, pure and dear, we won't let slip away, not without a kiss. An aknowledgement, a thankful, hearty smack. What could matter in the face of this brightness? I couldn't say. We didn't find any acorns, but brick paths and lampposts, ginko leaves, and hand in hand under the sycamores, we don't mind at all.

for the first time in my life...

...I did not procrastinate. I got an early start on the twin's costumes. I was very excited to make them, this being the first year that they have been aware of Halloween, and there being a parade at preschool, they actually had occasion to dress up.

But I am by nature a procrastinator. I almost cannot get started on something until there is major pressure on me to get it done. But this time, I didn't. I got started a month ahead of time, and slowly got going, sewing and cutting a bit almost every evening after the kids went to bed. I took a break for about a week, to get their winter hats made, and that was apparently a mistake, because I was still up till 4:30 in the morning on Sunday night, finishing these dang costumes!

The results were not absolutely perfect, but the girls were very happy, and their teacher said that they were very proud to put them on. A bluebird and Tinkerbell were very obliging and allowed me to get a couple of shots of them... before flying off to warmer regions. I think that I saved no money whatsoever, and maybe took a little too much pride in doing it myself, but I must say, none of the Tinkerbell costumes for sale look anything like the dress that Tink makes for herself out of leaves and grass, the same problem as when I was a kid, so I feel justified.

shadow or light?

There are days when I don't know which end is up. When my stomach jumps with unexplained butterflies, and not the good kind. A small surge of fear that grabs me from out of nowhere, over and over again throughout the day. Tears that well up, that I want so badly to control, but can't. When I keep praying for help, for peace, and yet small pressures keep mounting and I can't see clearly.

Some days are just like that for me. Not many, though, thankfully. Those days pass, and I realize that reality doesn't need to overwhelm me.

I find myself thinking that I just have a problem; that other people float through their days on a cloud of contentment, mostly untouched by the stresses that I wrestle with. I know that this is not true, can't be true, and yet I sit here believing it on some level. I also wonder if I have a bit of bi-polar disorder, or am I just overly sensitive? Who cares, really. Because peace is available for the asking, and joy is not elusive. It is given in so many small gifts every day, if I only have the sense not to chuck it out the window.

Today is one of those normal days, where I can see both the shadow and the light, and simply have to choose my focus. Why I don't always make the right choice is beyond me, but I'm working on that.