Painting Bliss

First Hike of the Season!

 

 

Fair weather, warm sun, and a Sunday happened all at once yesterday. It was a recipe for adventure and the chance to breath in the damp scent of earth and snow. Spring has started, clocks have been changed, and the sun is allowed to stay up past it's curfew. I'm here. Right here. I'm waving a flag that says "WELCOME" and putting out my thoughts of sandals into the universe. Soon it will come, and I am ready. We all are, aren't we?

It wasn't a terribly long winter. We did receive more snow than we have in many years prior but I enjoyed it. Winter is snow. If it's going to be cold and bitter, in my book it might as well let out some pretty white flakes. There comes a time though, somewhere between New Year's day and now that I grow inpatient with the storms. This year I am thankful for March coming in like a lion, because now I can look forward to it slipping out like a lamb.

Our first hike found us on a portion of the Appalachian trail. With all the snow melted at home we expected it to be the same only fifteen minutes away... but to our surprise it wasn't. More than 6 inches remained on the path. We were prepared though with warm layers and snow boots. The snow was soft and slushy where the trail had been flattened. It took on a slightly yellow hue from the rotting autumn leaves below. I thought about how painters usually use variations of blue to add shade while painting snow... but it's not blue in the shadows at all. The true color presents itself in shades of grey and a grey toned lavendar (artistic mental note). Truly lovely it is.

 

 

The trees that held their pale yellow butter colored leaves all winter shivered in the light breeze. Each little leaf shook like it had been set a vibrate. I told everyone to stand still, be silent, and listen. The sound that presented itself was that of a mexican maraca. Sort of like rice in a tube being softly flustered.

Nature's music.

 

 

Over a small man-made foot bridge ahead we were bestowed a beautiful sight...

 

 

The trail/woods were quiet except for the ten minute stint when my almost three year old son decided he wanted me, and cried for me from the hiking pack upon daddy's back. A little reassurance that I would hold him soon, daddy playfully teasing him with a stuffed cat, and we were back on track. The snow was perfect packing snow from the temperature lifting. I thought about if we had prepared a little more (gloves) we could of built a snowman right on the trail to greet other hikers on their own adventurous journey. Food for thought in plans for next year.

Signs of spring could not only be felt... but also seen, even with the 8-12 inches of snow on the forest floor. Greening moss, last years fern and rhododendron bushes were conjointly brightening.

 

This was a short hike to start us off. Many more hiking experiences are on the horizon. Between mountain, hill, and tree trunk we will take nothing but photos and leave in return, nothing but footprints. We are ready... or rather my husband and I are. The kids will warm up as we move along. The complaints of "my legs are tired" and "are we done yet?" will replaced with "where are we going to go today? and "it's hot, will there be waterfalls to go into?". This is the stuff families are made of. The stuff our family is made of. Activities unique to you, us, each other. We are an outdoors family. We crave wild open spaces and gifts from nature to feast our eyes upon.

Life is right outside your door and I want my children to always realize that.

 

 

My Week Through the Eyes of Instagram 11/11-11/18

 

These weeks are FLYING! I can't even believe this week is Thanksgiving!! I'm excited, I love the holidays and I am so eager to watch all my favorite Christmas movies and go as a family to pick out and cut down this years beautiful tree.

My week was filled to the brim with girl time. I was lucky enough to have dinner with some really special people in my life and it just re-charged my soul in so many ways.

 

 

 

This week I had so much pride for my oldest son. I had his first parent/teacher conference of the year and all I can say is he makes it so easy academically. The large photo of his thankful writing above just melted my heart!!!

 

Art Comes Early

 

Before I get into today's post I wanted to announce that the winner of my giveaway is Suki from The Owl Club! I promise cross my heart that I did not favor her or pick her because she is a dear friend of mine! Rafflecopter does all the calculating for my giveaways and so I cannot pick or favor anyone at anytime. Congratulations Suki!!

Art comes early in life, it's uninhibited and innocent. No one tells you to color in the lines or do things just a certain way. You are experimental, raw, and unique.

As most of you know I have 3 boys all of which are creative, but it is the 2 year old I like to watch create the best. When the 7 year old is drawing certain things, judgemental of himself, the 5 year old is drawing hilarious things like pigs doing handstands and old men driving coffee trucks... but then there is the 2 year old who sits with his brushes, watercolors, and ink pads methodically plotting his image.

 

 

I say methodically because he starts by picking his brus *h. I offer him one brush only for him to say uh uh and accept another. He knows whether he wants a large or tiny bristled painting instrument. Then the watercolors that he either saturates or barely saturates. When he is painting more on the dry side I tell him to wet his brush only receive the reply "uh uh" once again. I believe he likes the dry brushed look at times.

There isn't much I don't share from my own supplies except what is really off limits like my very fine brushes, my black and white ink pad, my acrylic paints, and canvases... they can have paper, watercolors, other ink pads, stamps, pencils, gel pens, etc. I want them to explore. I want them to know other materials than crayons.

The first week of school my 7 year old had a work sheet where he was supposed to color each thing a certain color. Two of the items he had to color green... so he colored one grass green and one lime green. The lime green was mostly yellow but to the trained eye definitely a chartreuse... he got that one wrong. Can you say that mommy the artist had a burned arse? Yup!! My point is that it's so incredibly exciting for a child to know more colors than what's offered in their crayola box. Why not!?

 I catch him the 2 year old with my circle stencil and I watch intently, placing it on his paper and painting within the circles. Not all over it, not around it... but right inside the circles.

 

 

I love his creativity, his spark. I hope that it grows and grows so that he nurture his creative side. There are definitely more of us ladies pursuing our creative souls... it's time the men stepped up as well!

I don't know what my children will think of me someday when I'm not here anymore and they recall the times they had in my studio, but I hope it is all good and pleasant and different from the rearing of other children's lives. I like that my children are unique, I like that they have an artist for a mom... it makes me feel blessed and priveleged.

So maybe we should all take notes from my little guy. Be original, think not of what came before or who came before. Let not the worries of your abilities inhibit what you create. You can be as beautiful as you let yourself be.

 

My Week Through the Eyes of Instagram 9/9-9/16

 

Another week bites the dust and I still can't say I'm sorry to see it go. Another rough week led to a quiet ending which was more than fine with me! Here's hoping your week was filled with love, laughter, and fun!

 

It started with a some Geocaching, hiking, and a view of the Delaware River...

 

Then school day monday walking to the bus stop with pretty nature things to see.

Time in the car for the boys, crochet, and some flowers at the park waiting for school pickup.

Date night, mexican... soothing the stressed out soul with a few pina colodas.

Farm market, Heirloom Tomatoes, and Canning...

From blond to brown, a garlic bread beard, and a false alarm ER trip where I yelled at a nurse.

Crochet in crafting in preparation for my November craft sale.

Farm fields and a wonderful hike that led us to the state line where NY meets NJ.

 

Time and time again I am led to my one of my favorite quotes, and it's so relevant right now as I feel a bit like I'm walking upside down. Thank you for your patience with the blog. I usually blog each evening in preparation for the next day but lately when evening comes I'm exhausted and snuggling on the couch with my family seems like the very best medicine.

 

"Life is what happens when your busy making other plans"

~ John Lennon

 

As always if you love my photography and seeing my Instagram photos you can follow me on Instagram via

@Paintingbliss

Follow Your Butterflies

 

Something I have always known, but really curved my path around lately is the flutter of my butterflies. You know, that feeling in your stomach or chest that doesn't feel right until you found out the reason for their flutter?

Your butterflies always know what you need to do and warn you as soon as you need their guidance. Sometimes we ignore them, thinking we know better than they do... but in truth it is they that in the end knew exactly how it would end. Listening to them first would save a whole lot of trouble, and I'm getting that now and I encourage and implore you to do the same!

 

 

So me and my butterflies instead of working against each other are going to start working together. They are going to give me the know how and the when to, and I'm gonna paint a pretty picture of them. We made a deal ;) I speak butterfly you know.

 

 

 

A Prayer for the Moms Preparing for School

 

 

As I walk through the isles, checking off my list for now 2 children going to school... gritting my teeth as I make sure they have their supplies, remind them not to touch things they shouldn't, and off course to stop tormenting each other. I'm gritting and talking between my clenched teeth because school shopping is

g-r-u-e-l-i-n-g

In the beginning I was excited to purchase all of their things, wanted to buy them the coolest items with the stuff they love, in the colors they love, with the super heroes or mario characters they love... but I was soon to discover that this was the most awful pull your hair out experience of the year... and if you too are a mom and you are about to shop (or perhaps you already have and already should have really), you too know the pain of shopping with children for school supplies.

Typical shopping is bad enough if you ask me and as you pass another mom with another kid acting just like your own you almost want to give each other a fist bump. Perhaps even, a secret wink... handshake, AND a fist bump.

As you pass you trade that certain smile.

That smile that says "I'm totally with you", and "I know your pain".

 

 

Most of the time I love my kids please don't get me wrong here, but I'm not one of those moms living straight out of the marshmallow bag. I'm gonna tell you how it is, hold back no punches, and probably scare the sh@t out of you by the truth. 

 

 

My husband was in a car with his boss and a few other co-workers the other week and someone asked him what it was like to have children. Obviously this co-worker was a non kid owner. Before my hubby could say anything his boss spoke out and said, "having children is like being owned by tiny terrorists... they bring you to the edge without actually doing you in". And it's so true! cause you love those little trouble makers, and you would give your left arm to buy them the very last cartoon back pack they wanted even if it meant you had to go to 3 stores. You would give them any organ they needed right out of your own gut, or stand in the way of oncoming traffic to save their life take on their first broken heart so they didn't have to feel that unique pain.

It's a fine line between I wanna hug you and I'm selling you to the gypsies, trust me. But somehow you get there with everything complete and everyone ready to go, and when it's all said and done and they come home off the bus reading some extra long word or they put together an art project you don't think you could of done at that age you realize what it's all about. That they are meant to be...

 

Better than you someday.

Smarter than you someday.

More talented than you someday.

They are your legacy and they will SHINE!

 

But until then I say a prayer for all you other moms out there getting their kids ready for school.

Without further adeu I give you my prayer... for all those moms preparing for school.

 

 

Dear God,

Please get me through this day.

Help me to get out of this bed, stir the chocolate milk, and put on enough cover up to cover these dark circles.

Be with me as we as we journey to the onslaught of other parents buying their own schoolish things.

Dear Lord hold me back from decking that other  mom.

The one with the BEHAVED children giving me stink eye at the behavior of my own little animals reinacting last nights episode of Ninja Warrior.

Put your hands around my hips as I pass her cart and give me the strength to hold back from giving her a severe rump bump.

Forgive me when I think not so pleasant thoughts about the children Lord, the ones that might justify calling CPS and Lord thank you for not having a telephone to do so.

Most of all I pray for all the other moms (especially those with more than 1 child) fighting just as hard as me to buy 20 gluesticks, 2 dozen pencils, matching erasers, and lunchboxes all without killing their own children.

For the haircuts, new shoes, and empty bank accounts.

And dear God please please God, don't let us forget one single thing... cause forgetting means going back and if I have to go back Walmart better be serving medicinal vodka at the door, or atleast a lithium drip.

 

Oh wait, Poem over, do excuse me... the gypsies just pulled into my village and I must go... 

Blog over.

Some Days...

 

Some days aren't planned. The night before you had no clue they would occur, and so, you go about your evening thinking the following day will be just another day. Perhaps you have plans with a friend, perhaps you don't... perhaps you just really want to get some things taken care of or the house swept. Whatever it may be, none of what you planned is going to come to fruition because...

The baby wakes with a fever, the oldest wakes with a red line leaving a wound he received while riding his bike. "I'm dizzy" he says, so you take a pen and mark how far the line has crawled down his wrist and make an appt. for the doctors at 3pm and also for the baby at 3:30 since your there anyways and you know if you don't you'll just be back there again tomorrow and the thought of that makes you shiver inside.

 

So this has to wait...

 

and it can.

 

And this has to wait...

 

but it can.

And the actual stuff you wanted to do... the non responsibility grown up stuff? that to0 can wait...

Cause it's really about this...

 

 

and this...

 

 

and definitly this...

 

 

You want to get them back to all of that good stuff... not the I feel so sick stuff. You joke about how nice it is when they are quite... but when they really are you know it's because somethings not right.

So you chat on the phone with the nurse while holding the baby who doesn't want to be put down, apologize for the noise in the background, and plan out your new day. You ignore your emails and any other things because there is just enough time for a shower... a shower that finds the baby goosebumped skin and whining asleep on the toilet when you step out freshly clean. So you carry him to your bedroom cause you know he will have nothing to do with the crib, lay him down only for him to wake up and demand you stay near. So you stay near until he quickly passes out... literally, and sneak away on tip toe to finish you hair which won't be blow dried today but quickly swept into pig tails.

 

 

The baby will sleep while the older ones run around and cause way too much trouble than you can handle at the moment. You say to the oldest "your fine if your running around acting crazy", until you look back at his wrist and realize he still has to go whether he feels fine or not.  You'll throw dishes in the dish washer but realize it was the chicken nuggets you tried to put in instead of the dishes, and you'll stand there shaking your head wondering a big WTF?

Then time will come to put the troops in the car...

The baby will cry getting into the car cause you woke him up and he feels terrible. The middle boy will say he can buckle, been then twist himself into a knot and need you to unbuckle yourself, get out, and help him out (you kick yourself knowing this would happen).

Off you go to the doctors where everyone pretends to be healthy... cause kids are like cars... "But doctor, he HAD a fever... but doctor he HAD a red line crawling up his arm, I'm not crazy doctor, don't... no... not the straight jacket!!".  But this time they really are sick... and you really aren't crazy.

When you are all done and thoroughly batty from corralling your kids away from jumping off of the scale or out from under the stir ups (which they think are bull dozer controls) you will check out and be glad it's all done.

But it's ok... your ok... and they are ok... and it's nothing a little post bedtime medicinal moscato can't help. Of course there will have to be through the night check ups, so not too much moscato.

The dishes can wait, so can the unswept floors, and so can your sanity. Creativity won't go anywhere either... it will just mentally stock pile until it can splatter out onto the paper or fabric or wherever you think it needs to go.

And at the end of the day you will realize it wasn't about the housework or the things you thought you had to do, but the things you knew you needed to do. So that the baby could be comforted, so that the oldest boy could get antibiotics... and so that you could be exactly be who they expect you to be,

their mom. 

 

 

Gift of the Hand Written Word - Hand of Bela Peck

 

 

Today I take your hand and guide you to a beautifully written, emotional and sentimental blog post any parent could feel for, relate to, and most hopefully be inspired by.

Jacquie whom I speak of frequently is one of my kindred spirits in this life. We guide each other through our everyday, sharing our lives and our creativity's for now going on 7 years. Though we have never met, we are as close as close can be.

I hope you enjoy her post about the Gift of the Hand Written Word, being a mom and loving her child...

you can read the post here

Motivational Monday - Failure

 

 

Well the jury convened at The ARTery and they decided that as of right now my art will not be hanging in their gallery. I won't lie... I was bummed. Really bummed in fact. I think of myself as someone that handles rejection pretty well, but for some reason this really got to me. It surprised me that it got to me, and so that made me even sadder. Yesterday on the way to the store my son asked why my artwork was in the car. I told him why, and he said to me that he was sorry I lost, that he thinks everyones artwork should be able to hang in the gallery. It was so sweet, one of those very touching moments between parent and child... I looked at him and said...

 

 

And he understood... he said no more, just smiled. I wanted him to know that rejection is ok and completely normal... I explained to him that for every no there are a dozen yes's.

I hope he remembers and that you do too.

Happy Birthday Middle One

 

Happy Birthday Middle one, you're a big boy now... or at least on your way to being one. You're 5 and the baby you have been and tried to stay for so long will leave me in the fall to go to Kindergarten (sigh). This will be the biggest change mommy has ever had while being a mommy so far.

When you were in my belly you gave me such trouble. I went into preterm labor at 18 weeks and become preeclamptic. I had preeclampsia without the symptoms, for was only detectable in my blood and didn't show visual signs until the night they induced me. My liver enzymes sky rocketed when you were 28 weeks in the womb, and I spent a lonely week in Westchester Hospital talking with you outloud in times of solitude.  I toured the nicu, wondering if you would be taken early and put in a little heated home of plastic until you were mature enough to breathe on your own. I worried I wouldn't be able to breast feed, and that you wouldn't be able to suckle. It hurt to sleep, everything ached as I laid on bedrest for so long. To keep labor at bay I wore a terbutalin pump (like a diabetic pump), and had to insert a needle into my thigh every 3 days. I wore it 24/7 and in the evenings and every morning had to wear a contraction belt to monitor you. I spent many a morning crying on the phone to the nurse who recieved my results, they were extremely kind and comforting.

When you came by emergency c-section, healthy at 32 weeks after months and months of strict bed rest, I announced to the surgical team and your daddy that "we had done it, and thank God for that.. you're perfect". I cried and when I held you for the first time I couldn't believe that the universe loved me so much that I got to create another beautiful human being.

You were fuzzy, stocky, and shorter that your older brother. I remember turning you over on your belly and looking you all over, I think daddy and I stayed up all night marveling over you.

When your younger brother came along I felt terrible for making you the middle child, I worried for you but now I see the worry was just a silly mom thing as you seem to be handling middlehood just fine!

 

You are the complete opposite of your brothers and you look identical to me. You are silly, creative, and quick witted. You could harm with words before you would ever hurt with your hands... and yet you would never hurt a fly. Sometimes you are extremely brave, like when you recieved your first set of stitches, 6 of them in your lip in and out (you are my clumsy smurf)... but other times you are scared and sensitive when doing something as simple as entering a crowd of people or watching a Disney movie (those villains are rough, I know). I am confident that you will become a soft and loving man, husband, and father... as silly as your dad but as nostalgic as your mom. You will do amazing things and surprise me as you already do on a daily basis.

Instead of drawing houses and animals, you draw old men driving icecream trucks and walking wieners (not hotdogs folks!). You need to know how everything is built and will ask again and again until you know just right. You're secretely smart... you don't show off like your older brother, but you let it out in bits and moments. You're thoughtful without trying, but when you're angry you tantrum like a thunderstorm. Evenly balanced you are.

Middle one... you have held onto babyhood so long and I'll hold onto you as long as possible. My second child, my little super hero... to infinity and beyond!