i was laughing
all the while
and how could I be surprised after some
nine odd months
you sprung from me
three hard impossibly painful
thrusts into life
you were born into laughter
rocketing here
as if you couldn't wait
another moment to meet
the source of that laughter
you were born into the bright
bright impossible light
of that room
and the excited
nervous voices faces pacing bodies
your fathers perplexed
as he holds you
as if
after nine odd months
surprised you are here
ours
and on your pinched
old-man baby face
surprise
you're so
little little
tiny toes and fingers cupids bow mouth
and I have nothing wise
witty or poignant to say
instead I'm laughing
all the while
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Dear Keian, (6 weeks)
Your aunt Cici bought a onesie for you that reads, "Hello, My Name is Trouble." Trouble is exactly what you are little mister. You had an appointment yesterday with your pediatrician and he said you are doing,"Not just good, but, Excellent." Then you proceeded to grab his stethoscope with you little baby death grip and not let go. You'll show him excellent, rawr!You are six weeks old now, and a teensy bit longer than before, but man did you gain three pounds. I think its more like ten and you are just somehow hiding it from the scale. You look like you've doubled in size. In fact, I had to put you in that yellow jumper and take pictures because you will be too big for it next week. You are so sweet and chubby. Too bad you aren't cuddly, nope, if you are sleeping you do not want to be bothered by a mommy who wants to hug and kiss and cuddle. Can' I see that you are trying to sleep?!
Sometimes I catch a smile from you and I think you are really trying to smile at me, but then I learn differently. It is almost always a side effect of you passing gas, or worse. I call you elf-baby or little-little but maybe I should just refer to you as Sir Poops-a-lot, at least then your dad wouldn't be opposed to the nickname.
I want to take a zillion more pictures of you but you aren' t at your most photogenic right now, you have infantile acne and if its any indication of how your teenage years are going to be...well I'm sorry. Truly. You look like the token teenager from the Simpsons. You must get it from your father.
We are going to visit your aunts for the weekend, it should be very exciting for you. In fact, there are so many people that are going to be there that I don't think I'll get to hold you again until Sunday. I'm taking a nap.
Love, Mommy
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
enchanted cottage
Photography by Steven Randazzolovelovelove
from CountryLiving.com
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Dear Keian, (5 weeks)
Little elf-baby, you've been growing! You were already too big for the setting we had the car seat on. We see you everyday, but I'm still amazed. While I was pregnant with you, I listened to a lot of Regina Spektor, and would sing it to you:
This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath
No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again
Especially those parts.
Today I gave you the biggest sloppiest kiss on the cheek. And you reached your angry little hand up to the spot and YOU WIPED IT OFF! No kidding. You wiped it off. Maybe it was a coincidence, but I think not. You are way to young to be doing things like that little Mr. I'm going to be giving you kisses for a long time. Get used to it!
This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath
No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again
Especially those parts.
Today I gave you the biggest sloppiest kiss on the cheek. And you reached your angry little hand up to the spot and YOU WIPED IT OFF! No kidding. You wiped it off. Maybe it was a coincidence, but I think not. You are way to young to be doing things like that little Mr. I'm going to be giving you kisses for a long time. Get used to it!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Blog PaRtY!
Miss V over at A Fanciful Twist is having her second annual Mad Tea party! June 27th? Can't wait!
Elf baby and I will be attending. I have some treats in mind already. Like maybe making some tea cup candles inspired by Martha:
Aren't they sweet? I just love parties. I want to make a cute little hat or some booties for elf baby too. Have you seen the swirl hats from SwirlyHats on etsy? I kinda want one for me.
Or this cute pink number, by Kathe Kruse, I'll take one of those too! It looks like a flower AND a strawberry!
Elf baby can definitely fit into these... my feet.. not so much. Why are my feet so huge?! More importantly why is there such a shortage of cute shoes for those of us with size ten feetsies? Cute elf booties project by Jenny B Harris. Her blog is marvelous!
And while I was searching for more party inspiration I found this gorgeous pink and black wedding reception decor, which I am loving:
Elf baby and I will be attending. I have some treats in mind already. Like maybe making some tea cup candles inspired by Martha:
Aren't they sweet? I just love parties. I want to make a cute little hat or some booties for elf baby too. Have you seen the swirl hats from SwirlyHats on etsy? I kinda want one for me.
Or this cute pink number, by Kathe Kruse, I'll take one of those too! It looks like a flower AND a strawberry!
Elf baby can definitely fit into these... my feet.. not so much. Why are my feet so huge?! More importantly why is there such a shortage of cute shoes for those of us with size ten feetsies? Cute elf booties project by Jenny B Harris. Her blog is marvelous!
And while I was searching for more party inspiration I found this gorgeous pink and black wedding reception decor, which I am loving:
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Snippets of my day
The view outside
The last rose on the bush.
Detail of the embroideryon my favorite purse,
taken in the blue evening light.
My jar of paint brushes
Paints waiting to be used
Paintings waiting to be finished
But those will wait,
its bath time.
These moments go by so fastalready
my tiny baby boy
is almost too big to fitin the sink and be bathed
and he hates bath time
so I try to finish quicklyso he can be warm and dry
and happy
air guitar baby!
Sleepy baby
Friday, May 15, 2009
A post about my little sister
My youngest sister, Krista, has a part-time gig as my muse. Or maybe just a full-time position as a very annoying little sister who is tenacious and persistent. Either way it works enough to get me to draw things for her, and it eventually led to me painting again.
See, I went to a big-name, expensive, art college. I spent a lot of money on my education but I was very disenchanted with the entire experience. Its stupid really, because I carry that around with me as if it defines who I am, "Hello my name is Kat. I went to Art School and I hated it."
But really, I was so confused as to who I was as an artist after school that I didn't seriously paint anything for years. A lot of artists have had this same problem, and I just found this quote from Jim Hodges on another blog, Ullabenulla, where he describes exactly what I felt.
"When I got out of graduate school, I stopped Painting because it was overwhelming and because I couldn´t find myself in the material. But I also stopped because I was forcing myself to be a painter because I thought that was what my education had taught me. I realized I had accepted a lot of belief systems that were not necessarily mine. From then on, it was just a slow process of deconstructing this education and breaking things down to simple words. And 'beauty' was one of them.... I felt that I was part of a long tradition investigating what beauty is all about—the mystery of it, the elusiveness of it. So, I set out to understand what that word meant for me."
The first piece I painted when I was jumping back into it was a very odd color explosion of a portrait of Krista. (We call her Roo.) Excuse the blur, its the only photo I still have of this piece. I ended up painting blue over the background and then I put it away for a while to think about painting. Because I tend to do that, sit and think about things when I should just be doing them.
Krista commandeered this piece while I was contemplating what it all meant... and then promptly demanded more paintings.
That isn't the beginning of the story. I have three younger sisters. I've always wanted to be an artist, more specifically a Children's Book Illustrator. When my sisters were very young I would make up stories and illustrate the interesting bits to entertain my sisters while I babysat. Roo, the youngest and my junior by ten years, was always the one demanding more, she was in fifth grade in 2005, and in love with the Harry Potter series. She was diagnosed with dyslexia early in grade school and reading, well honestly school in general, was very frustrating for her. I read the first Harry Potter book to her, and she fell in love with the characters, and absorbed the rest of the books in the series almost overnight. I told her stories about her as a Gryffindor student and illustrated the funny parts. The story was renamed Kerri Potter (It was called Kerri Potter after another sister of mine, uhm... Kerri. Genius, right?) She and her older sisters were always getting into trouble. . They never saved the day, and were always in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was completely goofy. My sisters loved the stories. Roo's frustration with reading and learning faded a bit with each story.
These silly stories and comics were mostly inside jokes. I don't think they could possibly make sense to anyone else, but isn't that how inside jokes work? Like every kid who is having trouble in school, Roo would fight to get out of bed in the morning and actually get to school.
So I drew little comics on her brown lunch bag, to give her a little something extra to read at school. They were completely ridiculous but every kid at her lunch table grew to anticipate lunch time so they could read the newest Brown Bag comic. (No pressure on the artist there.) These two starred all three of my little sisters, Caitlin, Kerri, and Krista, in the Kerri Potter universe, pretending to be Jedi Knights with bananas as lightsabers.
See, silly inside jokes. But it worked. As long as I kept up the BBcomics, Krista kept bringing them into school... and of course if the bags were going to school, so was she.
Not all the stories and images were particularly flattering...I wrote a story/poem I wrote for her called, "My Little Sister Is A Goblin." It went something like this:
My little sister is a goblin.
It's true.
Just look into those beady little eyes of hers-she's not normal.
She has sharp elbows, sharp knees, and rows of extra sharp pointy little teeth.
Take your eyes off of her for a moment
And she is gone.
(off spoiling the milk or knotting peoples hair or doing other Goblin-y things)
No doubt about it.
My little sister is a goblin.
She will eat your liver.
She will eat your liver for breakfast.
Its her favorite thing to do.
... and it goes on. The bit about livers sounds odd but that is what she would threaten to do when she was angry with you- eat your liver.
I'm not sure she knew where your liver was, or what it did, so I illustrated your liver as being a type of breakfast cereal.
After Harry Potter, Roo's obsession turned to Pirates. Everything I drew had to be of her as a pirate. This evolved into her as a pirate with a pet octopus or squid. I started making finished pieces for her, she started being old enough and responsible enough to take care of them.
And now she is a teenager. She draws her own pictures and writes her own stories. She is interested in all things creative, especially creative writing. She wants to be an author. Spoiled by an older sister who is an artist, Roo routinely e-mails crazy pictures of herself for me to paint. I think she has more portraits of herself than any person ever.
These are just a few examples. She has walls papered with examples of art pieces I'll never be able to finish because she claims pieces from my sketchbook and from my unfinished piles for herself. She doesn't take no for an answer. Which is fine, because I'll be famous for portraits of my little sister... and I'll make her draw pictures for me.
See, I went to a big-name, expensive, art college. I spent a lot of money on my education but I was very disenchanted with the entire experience. Its stupid really, because I carry that around with me as if it defines who I am, "Hello my name is Kat. I went to Art School and I hated it."
But really, I was so confused as to who I was as an artist after school that I didn't seriously paint anything for years. A lot of artists have had this same problem, and I just found this quote from Jim Hodges on another blog, Ullabenulla, where he describes exactly what I felt.
"When I got out of graduate school, I stopped Painting because it was overwhelming and because I couldn´t find myself in the material. But I also stopped because I was forcing myself to be a painter because I thought that was what my education had taught me. I realized I had accepted a lot of belief systems that were not necessarily mine. From then on, it was just a slow process of deconstructing this education and breaking things down to simple words. And 'beauty' was one of them.... I felt that I was part of a long tradition investigating what beauty is all about—the mystery of it, the elusiveness of it. So, I set out to understand what that word meant for me."
The first piece I painted when I was jumping back into it was a very odd color explosion of a portrait of Krista. (We call her Roo.) Excuse the blur, its the only photo I still have of this piece. I ended up painting blue over the background and then I put it away for a while to think about painting. Because I tend to do that, sit and think about things when I should just be doing them.
Krista commandeered this piece while I was contemplating what it all meant... and then promptly demanded more paintings.
That isn't the beginning of the story. I have three younger sisters. I've always wanted to be an artist, more specifically a Children's Book Illustrator. When my sisters were very young I would make up stories and illustrate the interesting bits to entertain my sisters while I babysat. Roo, the youngest and my junior by ten years, was always the one demanding more, she was in fifth grade in 2005, and in love with the Harry Potter series. She was diagnosed with dyslexia early in grade school and reading, well honestly school in general, was very frustrating for her. I read the first Harry Potter book to her, and she fell in love with the characters, and absorbed the rest of the books in the series almost overnight. I told her stories about her as a Gryffindor student and illustrated the funny parts. The story was renamed Kerri Potter (It was called Kerri Potter after another sister of mine, uhm... Kerri. Genius, right?) She and her older sisters were always getting into trouble. . They never saved the day, and were always in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was completely goofy. My sisters loved the stories. Roo's frustration with reading and learning faded a bit with each story.These silly stories and comics were mostly inside jokes. I don't think they could possibly make sense to anyone else, but isn't that how inside jokes work? Like every kid who is having trouble in school, Roo would fight to get out of bed in the morning and actually get to school.
So I drew little comics on her brown lunch bag, to give her a little something extra to read at school. They were completely ridiculous but every kid at her lunch table grew to anticipate lunch time so they could read the newest Brown Bag comic. (No pressure on the artist there.) These two starred all three of my little sisters, Caitlin, Kerri, and Krista, in the Kerri Potter universe, pretending to be Jedi Knights with bananas as lightsabers.
See, silly inside jokes. But it worked. As long as I kept up the BBcomics, Krista kept bringing them into school... and of course if the bags were going to school, so was she.
Not all the stories and images were particularly flattering...I wrote a story/poem I wrote for her called, "My Little Sister Is A Goblin." It went something like this:
My little sister is a goblin.
It's true.
Just look into those beady little eyes of hers-she's not normal.
She has sharp elbows, sharp knees, and rows of extra sharp pointy little teeth.
Take your eyes off of her for a moment
And she is gone.
(off spoiling the milk or knotting peoples hair or doing other Goblin-y things)
No doubt about it.
My little sister is a goblin.
She will eat your liver.
She will eat your liver for breakfast.
Its her favorite thing to do.
... and it goes on. The bit about livers sounds odd but that is what she would threaten to do when she was angry with you- eat your liver.
I'm not sure she knew where your liver was, or what it did, so I illustrated your liver as being a type of breakfast cereal.
After Harry Potter, Roo's obsession turned to Pirates. Everything I drew had to be of her as a pirate. This evolved into her as a pirate with a pet octopus or squid. I started making finished pieces for her, she started being old enough and responsible enough to take care of them.
And now she is a teenager. She draws her own pictures and writes her own stories. She is interested in all things creative, especially creative writing. She wants to be an author. Spoiled by an older sister who is an artist, Roo routinely e-mails crazy pictures of herself for me to paint. I think she has more portraits of herself than any person ever.
These are just a few examples. She has walls papered with examples of art pieces I'll never be able to finish because she claims pieces from my sketchbook and from my unfinished piles for herself. She doesn't take no for an answer. Which is fine, because I'll be famous for portraits of my little sister... and I'll make her draw pictures for me.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Springtime
Springtime
Mixed Media on Canvas
11"x14"
Jacquard Lumieres, beeswax paints, colored pencil, gel medium, acrylics, book pages, decorative papers, and mica powders.
There are layers and layers and layers of colors and metallic shimmer on this piece. It glows in the right light... I wish I had a camera capable of capturing that. Right now I am still trying to get the scanner to cooperate and correctly scan the pink/peachy skin tones I paint. I don't like the way the edges of the book papers intersect her face, next time I paint something like this I will plan ahead so I don't have funky lines and ruffles in important places. I do like the overall color scheme and the effect of the color glazing on the overall piece, its very whimsical.
Dear Keian, (4 weeks)
Hey baby!
You are officially one month old, and I am officially one day late writing this. Can you believe that I decided to sleep in yesterday instead of write your letter? I know, I have my priorities completely in order. I refuse to feel guilty about it, its been a long time since sleeping was even an option, let alone getting a bit of extra sleep. You sleep a bit more now too, thank you. Your dad and I finally figured out a sleeping schedule that almost works for everyone... and I'll take an almost because we are working with three people there is no way we are going to please everyone 100% of the time.
You grunt more now, it makes me laugh. You do not like to be bothered while you are eating or sleeping. You grunt at me, and daddy, if we touch you because HOW DARE WE BOTHER YOU WHILE YOU ARE TRYING TO EAT/SLEEP?! Seriously, little guy, it just makes me bother you even more. And laugh. I'm evil, I know. I think we are witnessing your first attempts at talking, or at least communication beyond crying. Babies develop so fast! It is amazing to be able to watch it every day.
My hormones are still leveling themselves off, or whatever it is that hormones do after you give birth. Having you changed the way my body acts so much that I'm not really surprised by anything that it does anymore. I've always had very clear skin, not now, whatever concoction of hormones coursing through me has given the loveliest face full of acne. Oddly, my hair is more shiny, thick, and beautiful than it has been ever. You win some, you lose some, I guess.
Speaking of hormones, I still cry at silly things. I keep crying at t.v. shows. I don't think this is going to quit, I think it just means that it is time I stop watching t.v. I am two weeks away from being off bed rest, two weeks two weeks two weeks!!! It seems like it has been forever and that two weeks will be forever and I have watched more television during this pregnancy and recovery than I have watched in my entire lifetime and I cannot wait to go swimming and sculpt and lift things that weigh more than ten pounds and just run around and not be stuck in bed healing.
Apparently a side effect of bed rest is crazy run-on sentences, who knew?
You've been great though, seriously. You've been driving your father crazy because you spit up... but I guess he missed the memo. BABIES SPIT UP. A LOT. MORE THAN YOU THINK IS HUMANELY POSSIBLE. So much, in fact, that you think your baby has been switched or perhaps possessed by Satan and any minute now his head will start spinning and that spit up will take on a shade of green that is too close to pea soup for comfort. Maybe these are things only mommies know, but I sincerely doubt it. Daddy will figure things out for himself eventually.
I'm already planning your Halloween costume, I want to dress you up like Link from Zelda. And your father thought that because I didn't have a baby girl I wasn't going to get to play dress up. Add that to the list of things for your father to figure out: DADDY IS ALWAYS WRONG.
Mwahahaha,
Love Mommy.
You are officially one month old, and I am officially one day late writing this. Can you believe that I decided to sleep in yesterday instead of write your letter? I know, I have my priorities completely in order. I refuse to feel guilty about it, its been a long time since sleeping was even an option, let alone getting a bit of extra sleep. You sleep a bit more now too, thank you. Your dad and I finally figured out a sleeping schedule that almost works for everyone... and I'll take an almost because we are working with three people there is no way we are going to please everyone 100% of the time.
You grunt more now, it makes me laugh. You do not like to be bothered while you are eating or sleeping. You grunt at me, and daddy, if we touch you because HOW DARE WE BOTHER YOU WHILE YOU ARE TRYING TO EAT/SLEEP?! Seriously, little guy, it just makes me bother you even more. And laugh. I'm evil, I know. I think we are witnessing your first attempts at talking, or at least communication beyond crying. Babies develop so fast! It is amazing to be able to watch it every day.
My hormones are still leveling themselves off, or whatever it is that hormones do after you give birth. Having you changed the way my body acts so much that I'm not really surprised by anything that it does anymore. I've always had very clear skin, not now, whatever concoction of hormones coursing through me has given the loveliest face full of acne. Oddly, my hair is more shiny, thick, and beautiful than it has been ever. You win some, you lose some, I guess.
Speaking of hormones, I still cry at silly things. I keep crying at t.v. shows. I don't think this is going to quit, I think it just means that it is time I stop watching t.v. I am two weeks away from being off bed rest, two weeks two weeks two weeks!!! It seems like it has been forever and that two weeks will be forever and I have watched more television during this pregnancy and recovery than I have watched in my entire lifetime and I cannot wait to go swimming and sculpt and lift things that weigh more than ten pounds and just run around and not be stuck in bed healing.
Apparently a side effect of bed rest is crazy run-on sentences, who knew?
You've been great though, seriously. You've been driving your father crazy because you spit up... but I guess he missed the memo. BABIES SPIT UP. A LOT. MORE THAN YOU THINK IS HUMANELY POSSIBLE. So much, in fact, that you think your baby has been switched or perhaps possessed by Satan and any minute now his head will start spinning and that spit up will take on a shade of green that is too close to pea soup for comfort. Maybe these are things only mommies know, but I sincerely doubt it. Daddy will figure things out for himself eventually.
I'm already planning your Halloween costume, I want to dress you up like Link from Zelda. And your father thought that because I didn't have a baby girl I wasn't going to get to play dress up. Add that to the list of things for your father to figure out: DADDY IS ALWAYS WRONG.
Mwahahaha,
Love Mommy.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Blue Hawaiian
A 12"x12" technicolor tropical-inspired piece. Named after a drink, because it just seemed to fit. A lot of the pieces I am working on right now have this sort of intensely colored, dreamy, layered feel to them. This one was painted with acrylics, beeswax paints, a bit of colored pencils, Jacquard Lumieres (metallic paints) and sprinkled with mica powders. (So it has a lot of sparkle without being glittery.) Because the Lumieres and the mica powders are both interference colors, the metallic colors change with the lighting like a holographic sticker.
Holographic stickers = awesome.
Because of a certain little guy I don't really have a lot of time to devote to painting so this multi-layered approach works for me. If I only have 15 minutes then its not a big deal, I can just add some more color or a bit of detail and then let it dry and come back later without having to completely paint over the details I just added because they don't mesh, or blend, well with the the last bit I did... which works for me because I wanted to get away from the flatness of the acrylics I was using and the blend-blend-blend for hours thing I was trying to do that just resulted in Flat MUD.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Experimenting
face studyAcrylic, dye, and beeswax paints over old book pages
Painted a base in acrylics and then detailed out her features with my watercolor-esque beeswax paints. I like it, not as flat as using just acrylics.
And these two are sketches on tiny spare pieces of wood left over from a wood-burning kit.
I've been looking at too much of Audrey Kawasaki's work, but it was fun to do. I definitely won't be painting manga-inspired girls on wood any time soon.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Dear Keian, (three weeks)
Hey baby,
Three weeks already... it feels like you've been a part of our life for so much longer. It could just be that I don't get much sleep right now and in my delirium I think you've been around for forever. Your grandpa came to see you this weekend and he brought two of your aunts along. They like to fight over who gets to hold you, when, and for how long. I'm okay with that, it gives my arms a break. The visit was pretty uneventful, we did try out your new stroller but it was so hot outside that no one really enjoyed it much. Thank you Florida.
When you are six weeks old we can actually go into the swimming pool, which may offer some relief from the heat, too bad you hate being cold. You are going to be an inside baby until November when we can actually go outside without being slapped in the face with the heat and humidity.
You enjoyed bath time the first time, it was just you and me in the tub. You were floating in the warm water calm and alert, no kicking, crying, or splashing. You did not enjoy it the second time but I think that is because daddy was there. You thrashed in the water like we were trying to drown you, which we weren't, just in case you were wondering.
You wake and sleep at crazy hours. I thought I had it figured out. I thought I could get some sleep between four and midnight, while your father was awake, when you were most calm. You decided that calm time now happens during your father's sleep time and I get to pop awake every forty minutes or so to take care of something. Normally you just grab your pacifier and thrust it as far away from you as possible.. then you cry because you want it back. Its like a game. A horrible horrible game.
Sometimes I have to chose between painting or sleeping... and I choose painting. This always makes me cranky later, always, but I think it is the best decision of the two. I would go crazy feeling like I never got anything done if I just slept during your calm times. One day your father will understand why I'm so grouchy with him... he gets an almost-uninterrupted nights sleep. (He can sleep right through your crying. I can't.)
You make the funniest noises sometimes, a lot of times you sound just like a bird. I call you Quail-baby. Don't worry, that moniker won't stick. Your dad whistles bird calls at you, and we joke that you are going to grow up thinking you are a bird.
You don't like being kissed. This makes me kiss you more. All the time. I kiss your head and your cheeks and your belly and your toes. It makes you scrunch your face up and you look like an angry old man. Or, sometimes, when I try to kiss your face you think its time for food and you try to eat my nose. And just so you know, your breath stinks.
For some reason you stopped sleeping in your basket. Why, baby, why? You will only sleep on the bed with me or daddy. This means that only daddy or mommy can sleep at one time.. there simply isn't enough room for all three of us without one of us dangling precariously off the edge of the bed. Plus, you are a bed hog just like your father. (He will deny this, but I will get pictures, he likes to try and put his elbow IN MY BRAIN while I'm trying to sleep.)
Still, I'd rather you sleep for as long as possible so I can paint/cook/eat/drink/use the potty because once you are awake none of those things happen.
Ahh, soon you will sleep through the night. I keep telling myself that. Soon.
Love,
Mommy
Three weeks already... it feels like you've been a part of our life for so much longer. It could just be that I don't get much sleep right now and in my delirium I think you've been around for forever. Your grandpa came to see you this weekend and he brought two of your aunts along. They like to fight over who gets to hold you, when, and for how long. I'm okay with that, it gives my arms a break. The visit was pretty uneventful, we did try out your new stroller but it was so hot outside that no one really enjoyed it much. Thank you Florida.
When you are six weeks old we can actually go into the swimming pool, which may offer some relief from the heat, too bad you hate being cold. You are going to be an inside baby until November when we can actually go outside without being slapped in the face with the heat and humidity.
You enjoyed bath time the first time, it was just you and me in the tub. You were floating in the warm water calm and alert, no kicking, crying, or splashing. You did not enjoy it the second time but I think that is because daddy was there. You thrashed in the water like we were trying to drown you, which we weren't, just in case you were wondering.
You wake and sleep at crazy hours. I thought I had it figured out. I thought I could get some sleep between four and midnight, while your father was awake, when you were most calm. You decided that calm time now happens during your father's sleep time and I get to pop awake every forty minutes or so to take care of something. Normally you just grab your pacifier and thrust it as far away from you as possible.. then you cry because you want it back. Its like a game. A horrible horrible game.
Sometimes I have to chose between painting or sleeping... and I choose painting. This always makes me cranky later, always, but I think it is the best decision of the two. I would go crazy feeling like I never got anything done if I just slept during your calm times. One day your father will understand why I'm so grouchy with him... he gets an almost-uninterrupted nights sleep. (He can sleep right through your crying. I can't.)
You make the funniest noises sometimes, a lot of times you sound just like a bird. I call you Quail-baby. Don't worry, that moniker won't stick. Your dad whistles bird calls at you, and we joke that you are going to grow up thinking you are a bird.
You don't like being kissed. This makes me kiss you more. All the time. I kiss your head and your cheeks and your belly and your toes. It makes you scrunch your face up and you look like an angry old man. Or, sometimes, when I try to kiss your face you think its time for food and you try to eat my nose. And just so you know, your breath stinks.
For some reason you stopped sleeping in your basket. Why, baby, why? You will only sleep on the bed with me or daddy. This means that only daddy or mommy can sleep at one time.. there simply isn't enough room for all three of us without one of us dangling precariously off the edge of the bed. Plus, you are a bed hog just like your father. (He will deny this, but I will get pictures, he likes to try and put his elbow IN MY BRAIN while I'm trying to sleep.)
Still, I'd rather you sleep for as long as possible so I can paint/cook/eat/drink/use the potty because once you are awake none of those things happen.
Ahh, soon you will sleep through the night. I keep telling myself that. Soon.
Love,
Mommy
Friday, May 1, 2009
Getting back to it
Storybook Mermaid
Acrylic & Colored pencil on canvas
11"x14"
Here is the first painting I made after giving birth. I really like the varying colors on her tail... the rest is odd to me.
I just really wanted to paint a mermaid.
Everything I do is one-handed now. One hand is ever-attached to the baby and I'm literally typing with my right hand... the left is cradling a sleeping-hiccuping-snuffling bundle. He is so congested, its terrible... the noises he makes! He sounds like a monster. Poor little guy.
So I go about my days one-handed. Because the first thing I learned as the parent of a newborn (whoa. I just thought about that sentence.) is that if the baby is comfortable and sleeping contentedly then you do not move him. Don't do it.
I started another painting a few days ago, I have an image in my head I need to get out. Which, of course, means all the other paintings I've started, to exorcise persistent images, are now set aside. What can you do? I just follow everything where it leads, hopefully it will give me the break from the other pieces that I need, and then I can go back and paint with a fresh eye.
The piece is 18x24" so until I get a decent camera I won't be able to post anything on it.
Holding On
acrylic on canvas
9"x12" I think
I've been adding to and changing bits of this painting since I started it a year ago. I like the background now.. not so bright boring bluey-blue, and I tried to soften the details of her face and body. I don't know if anyone can even tell the difference... but I can.
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