Friday, May 30, 2014

Smash Doodle Art Journals


I seem to sway back and forth between my artistic obsessions. One week, crochet. Next week, doodling. Then, writing, music, dancing, and anything in between. Anything can strike my fancy at any particular time. If only I could stick to one and find a lovely, unique, little niche for my blog (along with the mom stuff). That'd be nice.

But that won't happen today, because today I'm back into Smash Books, Mixed-Media Journaling, and Doodling! It's been great for my anxiety. I'm practicing drawing faces, characters, and anything that strikes my fancy -- like E's plate of macaroni & cheese and green beans.

E is also really into painting and coloring right now, so I'm getting more opportunities to sit down with my little sketchbook and do a doodle or sketch each day. It's all in the name of practice and fun, and I'm enjoying the process.

I'm keeping a handful of journals on hand for everything I'd like to keep track of -- my schedule, design/blog ideas, sketches/doodling, dream notes, visions, random thoughts, etc. And I'm trying to worry less about the appearance and design of each page and more about documenting just for the sake of getting thoughts and ideas out of my head.

It's been such a fun and therapeutic process. I can't wait until E is a little older and can better understand why this means so much to me, but for now I'm trying to learn from her. Her "let's just paint for the sake of putting pretty colors on paper" attitude is such an inspiration. Art. Simplified.

I've started a Journaling Board on my Pinterest page (here), and here are some other great resources that I've found inspirational this morning for creating some art journals:
Pinterest Search: Journals and Doodling
Danielle Quarmby's Smashbook
Alisa Burke Artwork

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Results

Ta-da!!
The results are in! The good news is that I have NO food allergies or inflammation caused by anything I’m eating, except for maybe gluten and dairy just wreaking their usual havoc on my sensitive system.

The bad news is that I have Crohn’s Disease. Not the end of the world, but ugh.

Most normal people would probably start researching like crazy all the symptoms, medications, and side-effects, but I can’t quite get there yet. Mark has been the primary Googler, and he’s giving me information as I’m ready to hear it. I’m sipping on a Coke as I write this, even though my belly is probably going to reject it.

More good news? I know what it is now. I know I’m not crazy. I know that… lying on the floor of a bathroom and blacking out from cramping isn’t “just anxiety” as other doctors have told me. My regular doctor is a super smart lady who insisted that the Specialist at Fletcher Allen do more tests, even when he said it wasn’t necessary (as I was being wheeled into the hospital). We caught it early, so we can take preventative steps to avoid scary things in the future, like colon cancer.

A smidge of bad news? More tests (yuck) to make sure the Crohn’s isn’t causing any other complications in my intestines right now.

Shocking news? The doctor wants to start me right away on medication that costs $400/month, to reduce the inflammation which can lead to other more serious complications. My insurance will cover a portion, but the hospital is petitioning the health insurance company to cover more (fingers crossed). It’s not even a “huge inconvenience” or a “shock to our bank account.” We simply do not have that kind of money to spend each month. How do people live with more serious illnesses?

But right now, I’m just focusing on the fact that I’ve lived with this for about a year. The first episode was during E’s first birthday party. I can go a few more days or weeks without medication until we can figure out what to do.

In the meantime, life goes on as usual. We’re not sweating the small stuff, and this is all small stuff!


Wednesday, May 28, 2014

A Napkin. It's What's For Dinner.

A pic from that day! Love this crew!
Has it really been a week and a half since I’ve written? Please don’t give up on me, dear readers! I have no good excuse for my absence other than the usual busyness of life.

If you’re a regular follower of our Instagram feed, you’ll know that we’ve been on the go, enjoying this warm weather, preparing to do more doodling/painting/music-playing, and organizing the apartment. All good things.

But the one thing weighing on my mind this morning is something that happened a few weekends ago, and I could really use some mommy-input here. Did I do the right thing?

We went out to eat with my in-laws at a local pizza place, with 3 kids in tow, including E. It was your typical kid-chaos, which I’ve contentedly settled into – sweet, loud voices hollering, “When’s the food coming?” “Can I get a drink?” “I need a napkin!” and the stomping of sneakers against tile floor as all 3 found their places and prepared for a busy meal.

My daughter, well-trained by day-care mealtime, fit right in. She had the same wiggle in her step as the rest, the same excitement in her eyes, and her head bobbed around to take in every fun detail of being out and about with her clan of cousins, parents, aunt, and uncle.

I settled into my seat, sitting across from my bouncing, giggly toddler, and I smiled as I tried to calm her by focusing all her attention on one simple task – watching me cut a delicious slice of cheesy pizza. She climbed on her knees for a better view then hopped back down to a sitting position to get more comfortable – constantly moving.

I happened to glance up, over her head, to a family sitting behind us. The mom gave me that look. You know the one – her eyes got big with… oh, what’s the word? Disapproval? Surprise? Sometimes I know immediately the reason why a fellow mother gives me this look. Usually it’s because my daughter is having a particularly difficult day and just happens to be swinging off some piece of fancy furniture or architecture in a public place, screeching like a pterodactyl.

(And I am proud to say that I’ve learned to just not care. I laugh it off and go on with my day. This is life with a toddler. Some days good, some days bad, and I know in my heart that most moms must know that. And if she’s judging me for laughing off a particularly rough moment, then she’s not the type of person I want to know or be friends with and certainly not the type of person whose opinion matters.)

But this look caught me completely off-guard, because it was very deliberate (for one), and (two) I had no idea what triggered it. Other than the fact that my daughter was a little wiggly in her chair, and we were all being a little loud with typical mealtime excitement… (Me included. “More pizza, please!”), I just couldn’t come up with an explanation. I went on with my meal and wrote off the woman’s look as, I don’t know, indigestion, I guess? Her children sat, eating in silence.

As the meal went on, the woman’s son, who I later learned was nine-months-old, started waving and smiling at my daughter. We waved and smiled back. I noticed that he was chewing on a wet napkin – the brown kind that they have at most restaurants. It was starting to fall apart.

My mom anxiety kicked in, as I watched him slowly eat half the napkin. Both parents were on their cell phones (no judging here, we do the same sometimes). So, I let the kid enjoy his paper-meal. “It’s none of my business,” I told myself, “Ellie has eaten a few bites of napkin in her life, a nibble of paper-towel. She’s chewed on a playing card before.” I took a deep breath.

Then the kid started to choke on what was left of the napkin. Gagging. Gasping for breath. My sister-in-law was watching, too, and she grabbed my arm.

“Okay, now we have to say something, right?” I whispered to her.
“Yes!” she replied nervously.

This wouldn’t be easy. I am not a judgmental mom, and I would never criticize another parent (except later, in the privacy of my own home, when Mark and I were lying in bed before falling asleep saying, “Oh my God, did you see that!?”).

And, of course, if my intuition was right, I could already sense that this was the type of mom who seemed content judging every other family in the restaurant but would not take kindly to a “judgy” eye being turned on her – even though my only concern was for her son’s oxygen intake and digestive tract. I would have to tread lightly.

I got up quickly, as if I was headed to get something at the front of the restaurant, and I casually put my hand on the arm of the gagging infant as I passed by. I said cheerily (and in an “Isn’t life grand!?” tone), to get the father’s attention, “He sure is enjoying that napkin! Haha!” The father looked up from his phone and quickly pulled the napkin out of the baby’s throat.

The mother looked horrified – not that her baby had been choking, I’m not sure she ever realized that – but that another mother had even passively mentioned, literally in passing, that her child was eating a napkin.

She quickly jumped in to defend herself, “He’s fine!” she blurted. Then she tried to laugh off her knee-jerk reaction, “Ha! Well, you can tell that this is our second child! We're very relaxed about it.” The father was equally defensive and began listing the many nutritional qualities of paper napkins.

“Oh, my daughter has eaten her fair-share of napkins, too, and she’s my first!” I blurted, through forced laughter, trying to ease the tension.

It all added up to one awkward situation that I quickly excused myself from. I made my way to the front of the restaurant where I faked needing a fork and rushed back to my table. I elbowed my sister-in-law to indicate relief in being done with that "Holy cow!" moment. The father turned back to his phone, and the child kept chewing his napkin.

I doubt that mother will ever make it over to my blog, to my small corner of the Internet, where this strange mom is now admitting to belittling the signs of a choking infant, in order to save the embarrassment of a mom who was obviously very concerned with how she was perceived by other parents in the restaurant… but on the off-chance that you are reading, I just wanted to tell you that:

We’re all in this together. It’s okay if you let your toddler chew on napkins to allow yourself 5 minutes of freedom to check Facebook or read an important text message. I won’t judge. And it’s okay if you didn’t even know he was eating the napkin or choking on it. He’ll survive. And, if it looks like he might not survive, I’ll step in to help.

The only thing I ask in return is that you not widen your eyes and look at me with disgust when I turn a blind eye to my wiggly, loud 2-year-old, so I can enjoy my same 5 minutes of peace. And maybe a kind word or smile would have helped. A look of knowing that we’re all fighting the same battle.

Yeah, that would have been nice.

What about you, moms? Have you had to step in to help another mom and been caught off guard by the reaction? I’d love to hear your stories!

Vase Giveaway



About
I am so incredibly honored and excited to host this giveaway from the Two Potters! This talented husband-and-wife team creates beautiful handmade bowls, vases, mugs, etc.! If you get a chance, visit their studio in Bethel, Vermont. We went to their Open House over the weekend, and it was beautiful! There are pics from the day on their blog, here!

This vase is one of my favorite pieces that Becca generously donated. And this is your chance to win it for yourself!

I've also made it easier to enter the raffle! See below!


a Rafflecopter giveaway





Monday, May 19, 2014

Super Dad Day


In honor of the upcoming Father’s Day holiday, and for the fine people at the Dollar Shave Club company, I’m writing this week to celebrate (early) my husband and our Super Dad, Mark.

I’ve really struggled with what to write for this post – not that there is any shortage of qualities that Mark embodies that deserve celebrating. It’s just that… how do I sum up who Mark is as a father? How do I celebrate this guy who, as shown here, would never balk at wearing a toilet-paper-tube necklace made with such love and care by our sweet daughter?

What’s the one thing that makes Mark rise above the rest?

Of course, he plays with our daughter any time she asks and takes care of her with constant love and patience. He frequently goes above and beyond the call of duty by getting up with her at 2am or taking over for me when I’m sick or just having a “blah” day. Last weekend, he brought her shopping to buy new shoes, and brought her home with bright blue and yellow Batman Crocs. “She insisted,” he explained. Fine by me.

But what really makes him stand out as a father, I think, is his sense of wonder and imagination. He is a philosopher, a writer, an actor.

He can do all the voices of her favorite cartoon characters, and when he plays with her, stuffed animals come alive, cars have different personalities, they really drive and launch over block towers. While I do dishes, when she watches a video, Mark watches with her and knows all the plots and characters. If I ask, “What’s going on?” he proudly and very seriously explains that “Wonderheart is trying to figure out what her belly-badge power is.”

“But didn’t she just get it to work?” I ask. Mark sighs and shakes his head sarcastically. “Do I have to explain everything? Wonderheart is just in training. Her belly-badge is lighting up, but we still don’t know what her special power is.”

Oh. Okay.

He also got way too excited the other day when he found a Care Bears movie on Hulu that seemed to explain the entire Wonderheart mystery, “Hey, Gretch!” he yelled from the living room, “There’s a movie on Hulu called something like, ‘Wonderheart Gets Her Belly Badge!’ I think we’re finally going to figure out what it does!”

“Are you serious?” I yelled back.
He laughed hysterically before finally admitting that yes, he was.

I realized, especially in that moment, that he was gone, as in, completely submerged in this entire parenting thing. He makes marble tracks out of tape-measures and roads for Matchbox cars, and he’s just as happy to play house and baby dolls.

He is smart and an expert answerer of all “why” questions, and I find myself looking up from cleaning poop off the floor and staring in wonder at this man who makes parenting fun, who makes me feel like a kid again, and who is raising our daughter to be smart and imaginative, an explorer and adventurer.

He is our Super Dad, and I couldn’t be prouder of our little family.