So Easter is now past us, thank god for that! We all ate way too much chocolate, six weeks of no processed foods, dairy or sugar and we went a little crazy in the “let’s have a treat” department. I’ve noticed now that too much sugar makes us all grumpy, too much processed foods or dairy and we have stomach aches, headaches, and an all around crappy feeling. To make matters worse one of our water pipes is broken, and of course it being non stop rain it’s a slow going fix to the water issue. Plus one of my kids had the “chocolate” flu. Projectile vomit is extra gross when you don’t have water handy to clean it up. Trying to collect rain water in buckets to clean it all up wasn’t exactly my idea of a good time! Thank god for concentrated cleaning products.
See I had all these plans to paint new artwork this weekend, all these great ideas, I was in the mood for color and texture. For now my art is on hold while I wait for the water to come back on and sick kids to get back to school. The above painting Titled “Lost” I thought was the perfect reflection of how I felt this long weekend!
Happy Birthday baby girl, today you are seven years old. You are the youngest child and so sometimes you get a little lost in the shuffle of this big family. Don’t fret, you will find your voice; the beautiful voice that it is. When you sing in the car, daddy turns the radio down just a little so we can hear you. We picked up on that; the harmony in your little girl voice and it warms us like sunshine. Your big sister’s friends tell me you are so beautiful, they are jealous of your dark wavy hair and your freckles. The freckles you hate but make you so, you. The freckles that show how you match daddy, how you are his little girl. You are our baby and we love you. Seven years ago today you were born and we were told not to touch you, we were told to hold our breath because you may not be here come morning. But by some miracle and the genius of the doctors on your team you stayed with us and each day that you fought for life and we cried at your side, unable to hold your hand we knew you would be super special to us. And you are. And you always will be.
20 years ago today I became a mother for the first time. I was only 22 years old and I was scared out of my mind. I thought there was no way I could raise a child and have him turn out okay. I was still afraid of the dark for god sakes! Turns out, despite my craziness I did do a good job because the young man I have raised is kind, thoughtful, calm, and extremely giving. He treats women with respect and will someday make someone an amazing husband.
So today my baby turns 20, he is no longer a teenager, he is a man. This day is a milestone in his life but sadly he got injured during training with the Canadian military and broke his hand in two places. He will spend the day of his 20th birthday having his hand put back together on an operating table in an Edmonton hospital. Talking with him last night really opened my eyes to how much he has grown up. He is not afraid of his impending operation, he is keeping a light and easy spirit in spite of being in pain and being so far away from his family and his girlfriend. He is a brave and genuine person, he is my hero and I am very proud of him.
Today is my birthday. Today I turned 42. In the past few years, the days leading up to my birthday bring a tiny bit of sadness. I don’t like that I am getting older, especially when I still feel so young. I see a few wrinkles now and dread someday not recognizing myself in the mirror.
This morning my nine year old son woke me up with hugs and birthday wishes. I left the bed he was snuggled into to use the bathroom. When I came back he said to me “you’re beautiful”. It made me laugh. So he says, “you are, you still have that makeup on from last night, your hair is all over the place and big and there’s that little curl hanging down, you look beautiful”. Right there, the best birthday present EVER. Little did he know how much his words meant, today of all days.
Summer’s here, officially, today is the second day since my kids have been out of school. I’ve been forced to set my art aside and spend some quality time with them. So far we have played dance dance on the xbox, did some lame exercise because it was too hot out then ate freezies. One trip to the dirt bike track in the late afternoon then the grocery store to stock up on frozen yogurt (except ice cream was on sale).
Now it’s day two and I was woken up to sweaty kids clad in only their underwear trying to tickle me. Then a full movie day (because it rained). After too much icecream and chocolate milk, freezie packages stuck to the floor and a few sticky faced kisses now I am getting my hair done by my youngest daughter. She has a habit of banging the brush on my head then tearing it through bringing tears to my eyes. But hey, she’s stopped talking and folks, in the 48 hours since school let out for summer I don’t think this child has stopped talking once.
You know when you go to dinner at someone’s house and they pull out all these fancy dishes and platters. There is something for everything they are serving. Everything seems to match and you walk away thinking the food tasted better because THEY are better.
Not at our house, at our house the butter is served on a plate or better yet, from a margarine container. The cups won’t match and if the plates happen to it’s because we pulled out the ones that have chips and cracks on them. Good luck finding a matching utensil and the ketchup bottle is there for all to see. No, in our house fancy is like a swear word.
But as our kids are growing we’ve been trying to change that. We bought some white platters and matching bowls a year ago; this past winter a whole big set of fancy utensils and finally, the biggest luxury item of them all, a gravy boat.
What does that mean for our family? I’m not sure, cheese on a platter and toothpicks in the meatballs won’t change the fact that when our six year old farts at the table everyone giggles. But at least we finally have a gravy boat.
My youngest daughter loves all things art. If I turn my back for too long she will scam my paintbrushes, pencils, markers, and paper, anything she can get her little fingers on. One day I was really busy with commissions and packaging, I left my paints out on the table to be put away later. She decided to help herself and took a little piece of canvas I had laying there and made a painting. A six-year-old painting can be quite a mess as I am sure you can imagine. She had paint on the floor, the table, the tea towel from the kitchen (in her misguided attempt to clean it all up) the paintbrushes tossed aside, paint tubes knocked over and dripping. So basically a complete disaster. When I came across this I just about lost my mind, as I went to call her down from her room to ask her what she was thinking getting into my stuff, (there have been enough warnings over the years) I saw a white envelope sitting on my desk. Inside the envelope I found this painting.