Recovering

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I’ve not been keeping up with my creative endeavors, but I’ve not been entirely slacking, either — I’ve got one more day, officially, with this challenge before I move on to lips, though at some point I think I’ll need to revisit noses (I hate them.  I hate them, I hate them, I hate them). Lately I’ve just been trying to recover from being sick — because inevitably, when I take a sick day for any reason than actually being basically bedridden (as I did this past Monday), it is all but guaranteed that I will get terribly sick in subsequent days.  So, getting sick wasn’t exactly a surprise so much as it was confirmation of the curse that’s followed me for well over a decade at this point.

I was determined not to take an additional sick day as a point of misplaced pride, so I carried cough drops, kept my hands clean, and went through a lot of Kleenex and hand sanitizer.  This is our last week before mid-winter break, a beautiful nine days off with no obligations, before the long haul of March (the month of No Days Off and MCAS testing) hits us full force.

Being sick knocked me on my ass, though.  I’ve not gotten any sign work done, and even reading has kind of been a slog, since my head has been full of cotton and I’ve been distracted by how badly my throat hurts (ugh, it had been a while since I had a full-on sore throat, and it is such a miserable experience).  All of that has more or less subsided (throat is still tender when I yawn, but swallowing is okay now).  I’m starting to look forward to getting back on track with my art, now that my head can actually hold onto thoughts beyond “So tired, need sleep.”

Today Bear and I sat down and did Valentine’s for his class.  Oh man, let me tell you — what a wave of nostalgia when he brought home The List of Classmates.  I remember sitting down every year and spreading things out in front of my like I was some master craftsman — colored pens or pencils, tape (if I was sending a goodie along with the Valentine), stickers, envelopes — and crossing names off with this, like, refined precision.  It was honestly probably the most organized and on top of things I had ever been (or like, would ever be) in my life.

Bear and I picked out Toy Story valentines, but he wanted to do something a little Extra.  There were some Valentine’s packs that had little treats, but most were candy (and the school has a no food treats rule, because of food allergies), and the ones that weren’t were stickers for properties that we’d never heard of.  So, Bear and I spent the afternoon making bracelets for his classmates.20200209_141155
I’d had the elastic laying around from a mail trade with an online friend about five years ago, and the plastic beads let over from making pride charms seven or eight years ago.  The letter blocks were an impulse buy from Dollar Tree within the last two years, and I was thrilled to finally get to use them for something.  The whole ordeal — letting Bear address and sign all the cards, making the bracelets, sealing them — took about two hours.  He had a great time, and it was nice both spending time with him, feeling like a Pinterest Mom for once in my goddamn life, and getting to do something moderately creative after nearly a week of stagnation.

Tomorrow is Monday.  Starting is the hardest part, but chill out, charge up, and start strong.  You can totally do this.

Food for Thought

Day Five in The Week of Eyes:

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It’s in no way perfect, but I feel like looking at this drawing, even in isolation from the rest of the face, it’s clear that the intention is smiling/happiness.  If I want to be a more expressive artist and better at rendering the human face, I feel like this is stepping in the right direction.

Yesterday we met up with some friends and their one-year-old for lunch at our favorite local Indian restaurant.  Bear surprised me by trying subji, chicken korma, and some samosa — and liking all three!  Of course, he filled up on naan, tandoori chicken, and a huge mango lassi (which our waiter had put in before Bear was even seated; they know him so well), so he didn’t eat a whole lot of the new food.  Still, I’ll take what I can get.

We’re still in the, “all I want to eat is mac ‘n cheese/chicken nuggets/fries/corndogs” phase, though we seem to be inching slowly into slightly better territory.  He’s all for fresh fruits (apples, bananas, grapes, blueberries, cherries), and he’s started eating things like seasoned chicken breast, homemade meatballs, soups, and turkey sausage, along with fruit purees and organic fig and fruit bars.  So, it’s slow going, but it’s progress.  At least I feel like he’s getting a few servings of fruits, veggies, and general nutrition along with all the processed junk.

I’m very careful, as I want him to have a healthy relationship with food — one that I was never able to have — to avoid telling him that any foods are “good” or “bad” foods, just that some are “more nutritious,” and some are “less nutritious,” and we need to learn to balance them.  Far be it for me to take away his chicken nuggets!  Just, maybe he could eat them with a side of fresh carrots now and again, you know?

You know, there was a time when I thought maybe part of my “art” would be cooking; that I’d be able to forget myself and escape into creating delicious food, but something about cooking — maybe the mess inherent in the process, maybe the multiple step recipes, maybe the necessity of multitasking — that exacerbates my anxiety in all but the absolute ideal circumstances.  If my home is otherwise pristine, if I’m mentally relaxed and have ample time, I still enjoy playing around with recipes, but between my hang-ups in the kitchen (as a cook) and my son’s (as an eater), I have periods of being especially ambitious followed by long stretches of the most simplistic meals imaginable.  I mean, Bear doesn’t complain, but sometimes I have to wonder if I’m part of the problem.

Speaking of, tonight’s dinner was grilled cheese (a classic), which gave me time to sit and finish my third micron drawing.

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Tomorrow is Tuesday.  Keep climbing that hill.

Small Break

Today was a much needed day away from holiday and cleaning responsibilities, though going to my parent’s house is always a mixed bag.  They love Bear and Bear absolutely loves going there, but literally all the do is argue with each other and put each other down.

Bear, fortunately, is usually too absorbed in his own thing to notice or care, but I have to sit there and just weather it while they each try to sort of sway me to take their side in whatever bullshit argument is happening at any given time (they don’t do this in front of the other, so I’m not put on the spot to take a side and defend anyone, thankfully; it’s more like, when the other party leaves the room, I get ranted to in this conspiratorial way that suggests they think I must be “on their side.”  It’s been happening for basically my whole life, and at this point has moved beyond uncomfortable to simply annoying).

I catch myself, occasionally, when I’m annoyed at Andy, having to bite my tongue to avoid doing this to Bear; in my case, it’s to keep myself from muttering something like, “Of course, your dad didn’t put the groceries away again,” or something else fairly innocuous, but still, I don’t want to get into the habit of doing what my parents do.  The issues you have with your spouse are yours, and while I try not to judge, deciding to sit and fume over them instead of working them out is a choice, and one that you are making everyday.  But don’t try to make an issue you have with your spouse into an issue your kid has with their mom/dad.  That’s unbelievably petty and unfair.

Anyway, as much as I do genuinely love them, I could rant about my issues with my parents all day, but I’d rather not.  Most of the day was quite pleasantly spent.  I got a quick nap while Bear watched Sia music videos, and my sister and her kids loved their gifts.  I bought my sister Lore Olympus-inspired candles from a maker on Etsy, and her eyes literally bugged out when she opened the box.

“I LITERALLY ALMOST BOUGHT THESE!  I even messaged the girl to ask her about the fragrance!”  So that was super, super satisfying, and made my day.  Also, Lizzy was really into the Sweets Shoppe cart I bought her, and literally pushed it around all day, shoving coins into people’s hands and making them buy Popsicles.  All in all, a successful year of gifting.

Back to The Big Clean tomorrow, starting with the kitchen.  I will probably do more Before and Afters, even though the Before in this case is hand-wringingly bad, because we haven’t done dishes in, uh, days, because of the holiday, being out, not having gas (or hot water), etc., etc.  But it will make for a much more dramatic After shot, so there is that.  I’ve got to start a running list of storage accessories etc. that I’ll need to instate some organization and get myself sorted, and then maybe a Dollar Tree trip before the weekend is out.

I’m hoping by Monday I’ll be more or less done, and I can get started on some crafts and personal projects and otherwise enjoy New Year’s festivities before getting back to the daily grind of working parenthood.

Holidays

My son is five (and if that didn’t happen in the blink of an eye), and this feels like the first real year we’re experiencing the whole “magic of Christmas” with him.  I think he got the general gist of Santa and gift-giving and what-not last year, at four, but his ability to articulate his excitement and the sheer up-shoot in the level of said excitement is just exponential.  Last year, it kind of felt like he was along for the ride; this year, he’s pulling the sleigh.

Which puts a little pressure on us, I guess.  I don’t know, I feel like we went a little buckwild this year, when generally we try to restrain ourselves from going overboard with gifting.  I, especially, grew up with intense financial anxiety which has not abated at all over time (if anything, it’s gotten worse), and I refuse to go into debt over trying to having The Biggest and Best Christmas.  Bear is never lacking, never without, and while I think Christmas is a nice chance to splurge, I refuse to let my own mental health suffer so I can out Just One More Present under the tree.

I think it’s another way in which I am trying so hard to very conscientiously not be like my mom, who (after the Santa charade was up), would spend days leading up to Christmas lamenting how lame our holiday was going to be and mentally brow-beating herself over her inability to do More, More, More.  And every year, the actual resultant display of gifts on Christmas morning was almost embarrassingly lavish; looking back on some of those childhood Christmases, I actually feel something bordering shame.  It was all just So Much.  And I appreciated the sentiment (still do), since my folks hustled hardcore around the holidays to give us the extras we often went without the remainder of the year.  But then they always felt the need to keep up that momentum, or worse, out do it year to year, and that just isn’t always feasible.  I’m not going to get myself in that situation.

Bear has woken up every morning since about the 18th asking if it’s Christmas yet, so he is quite excited for tomorrow, when I’ve promised him baking Christmas cookies, Christmas movies, a game of Qwirkle, making a holiday video message for Facebook, playing Christmas games online, and keeping at eye on the Santa Tracker.  We’ve got a holiday open house at a friend’s tomorrow night after my husband gets out of work, so hopefully Bear will be well and tuckered out by the time we leave the party.  We’ve been trying to set ground rules about when it’s ok to wake Mommy and Daddy up on Christmas morning, but given that he doesn’t have a clock it his room, the best we can do is, “not until you see the sun.”

He is deathly afraid that Christmas morning will be cloudy.

I’ve been thinking a lot about holiday traditions; we didn’t have a ton as a kid, but there were a few things that just elicited an almost Pavlovian response; like, as soon as we put on those heavy crushed velvet dresses, or as soon as the Animaniacs Christmas special came on, as soon as I could smell my mom’s hair spray and the sharp, ozone scent of the curling iron.  Just these little sensations and experiences that triggered a Christmas Nerve.  We each opened one present on Christmas Eve, snacked on antipasto, went to my Grandmother’s and my cousin Helena’s open house, and then all caught a few hours of fitful sleep before all waking up and congregating on the pullout couch in the living room to watch late night TV.

We haven’t developed anything consistent yet, but it also occurs to me that Bear’s holiday experiences are going to be fundamentally different as an only child than mine was, with two siblings two and three-and-half years younger than me.  There’s no one for him to have those late-night Christmas moments with, which are honestly the thing I look back on with the fondest and most vivid memories.  I’d like to come up with something, though, something that will say “It’s Christmas” for him the way those little rituals did for me.

Does anyone have any small Christmas traditions they’d like to share?