Disconcerting Objectification

The other night, we had dinner at Olive Garden with my husband's extended family. Kaya and I are uncomfortable in large groups, so we kept escaping to the garden outside the restaurant. We had some nice chats sitting on the bench as the sun went down.

my favorite shot; the petals look like they're waving at me

love the color of this fuzzy, beautiful flower

my newest painting purchase

I have a thing for beautiful inexpensive art. I only buy paintings from thrift stores and dollar stores and try not to do so very often as I have no desire to increase my possession of objects.

Sitting atop my few dollar-store purchases, this painting drew a lot of attention from two men passing by my cart. The ensuing conversation went a little something like this:

"That's a beautiful painting, Miss. Is that for your grandmother?"

"No, it's for me."

"You look too young to like art like that. Did your grandmother raise you?"

"No."

"Did your grandmother teach you to speak so softly? Why are you so quiet?"

"No. That's just how I talk."

"Okay, Miss. Enjoy your pretty painting."

You should have heard these guys laughing at me; I don't know why they were so concerned with my grandmother or why they found my selection so humorous. But the fact that they did had me laughing pretty hard after they left my aisle. I didn't budge from the back of the store until I heard their loud, obnoxious voices disappear out the front door (lest I have to resume the "conversation").

May Flowers

I feel like today may usher in the apocalypse. May 31 is the date by which I'm supposed to have numerous tasks completed, forms submitted, grades turned in. And I know I haven't done it all. I'll be happy when June 1 arrives. Most people are celebrating the arrival of summer break, as is my daughter---no matter how many times I tell her that we are homeschooling through the summer. She "hears" very little of what I say.

This might be a good time to report that she is in love (again)---with the neighbor boy. She has already seen him naked (accidentally, she swears). And she has also mistakenly called him "Honey," but she swears that's only because it's so close to "Hunter."

His reply was something like, "Did you just call me Honey?" ("Mmmhmmm." [girlish giggling]) ... "Well, why don't you just call me Hunter?" ("Okay." [goofy grin])

She spent several hours at his house the other day, coming home with foil-wrapped candy in the shape of flowers (probably leftovers from a birthday party or a school Valentine's Day party). "Mom, Hunter got me flowers! Can you believe this? My first flowers from a boy!"

Have I mentioned that she's nine? She fell in love for the first time when she was six. I told her yesterday that she was boy crazy. "What does that mean, Mom?"

For being smart, she sure isn't sometimes.

Art Museum (bad photos)

We took the kids to play in the children's wing at the art museum yesterday. I spent a few minutes looking at the new art exhibited, but didn't really like much of what I saw. The local elementary schools had the most interesting pieces on display. (I apologize for the poor quality; I forgot my camera and had to use my husband's phone.)

When I was loading the pictures, I couldn't remember "which way was up" on this piece. The name is in the bottom, right corner, so I figured it out eventually. But I like that it can work either way. And I actually prefer the painting upside down.

This sculpture, "American Idol," was featured in the music room. I love her face, but the detail doesn't come across in a photo. I guess it's what's not there that's the most beautiful (the air space between the pieces of metal).

Two of my favorites "pieces" were this white couch and a green bench that didn't photograph well. I was tempted to lie down and take a nap on this couch, but we had to leave.

This is a sculpted painting, which is a pretty cool idea. I really like the bright colors. You can't see it very well here, but his face and parts of his body and guitar are "found materials" that protrude from the canvas.

Photos

The last two are my favorites.

Sidewalk Art

more cool sidewalk art

Spring Photography

It's been far too long since I've played "Closeup" with my camera.

Dr. Wayne Dyer

I recently discovered this motivational speaker and found him highly engaging and inspirational. I think he's a Christian, but he seems to have an extensive background in Taoism. A few weeks ago, I bumped into his table at a bookstore. Almost all of his books were on Taoist principles. So if he is a Christian, he must be recently converted. Nevertheless, on his web site he features daily affirmations that I find helpful and thought you (as if there are any of you) might, as well.

Here is yesterday's:

I treasure my physical being.

Treasure your physical being as a vehicle that houses your soul. Once you have the inner way, the outer way will follow.


And today's:

True happiness resides within me.

Most people are searching for happiness outside of themselves. That's a fundamental mistake. Happiness is something that you are, and it comes from the way that you think.


Here is a link to his blog in case you'd like to read more about him.

Nukes and Other Explosive Bits of Conversation

My husband took some of the teenagers out to dinner tonight and asked us to go along with him. So while he took care of our children at one table, I sat at another table entertaining some of the teenagers with my witty banter and conversation starters. I was on par in the departments of humor and sarcasm tonight. So we had quite a few interesting discussions. The very best went a little something like this:

Boy A---[speaking to younger Boy B] Kid, if you touch me again, I'm gonna drop a nuke on your head.

Boy B---[slinks away into the background to avoid being pummeled by larger football-playing Boy A]

Me---[speaking to Boy A] Do you actually have a nuke on your person? Might you have a nuke in your pocket?

Boy A---[snickering, thinking he is quite clever] Oh yeah, I've got a nuke in my pocket.

Me---[almost spitting out soda and burying head in table to avoid embarrassing, hysterical laughter; definitely saw myself walking right into that one, but not in time to stop the words from falling out of my mouth]

I attempted changing the subject in a variety of ways, but somehow nuke-related humor kept popping up. I think my husband was probably glad he was sitting at another table. He also avoided conversations about tractors, modeling, tanning, and excrement.

Sushi for Dinner

It won't look quite as gorgeous as this, but I get to eat sushi tonight. :)

Spring

I took the girls to play on the church playground the other day, and Reggie came down to play with us for a while. He took this beautiful picture of me while I was gazing off at the arrival of spring. I was thinking about how alive, serene, and whole I feel in those few breaths between winter and spring, the days and weeks during which they blur into one another. I think I'm supposed to live in the breeze and on the edges of baby grass blades reaching up for sundrops (Jordan's new word).

We should certainly all live life purposefully by serving others, Christ, society, and even self every once in a while. But I feel at peace without purpose as long as I'm breathing deeply and walking through fields of freedom and flowers. This is all a state of mind, of course, not a literal existence or physical plane. There's just a quiet place of meditation and release we all need to go to once in a while. And early spring is the perfect time for such mental vacations.

That's what you see on my face in the picture above. I've left my body to dance among the green just beyond. I had such a lovely time.

Waking Up

For months now (or perhaps years, really), I've had the hardest time getting out of bed in the morning. I am not a morning person. I do not wake up happy. I'm not one to "tackle the day" with enthusiasm. I grimace, close my eyes, and wish it were bedtime instead. But the sun refuses to stop shining on me. It kind of ticks me off, really.

But for the past few days, I've bounced up ready to jump in the shower straightaway. I've felt a little bit of joy about waking up in the morning. That is so very out of character for me. Like lifetime character. I'm not just talking about a season of depression; I am the very epitome of an "I hate morning" person. (I also hate morning persons.) But the sad thing is, neither am I a night person. (Am I even a person then?) I used to be a night person, before I had children. But they've kind of sucked all the energy right out of me. Especially that third one.

My mom always used to say, "Just have two. That's the perfect number. The third one will 'do you in.'" Yesterday I asked her if she ever feels like saying, "I told you so." Of course she does. But it doesn't matter. I'm out of bed, willingly. That's what matters.

I think what's got me "up" is that my husband went out of town for four days; our daughters were really down about us being left behind so I promised to make it the best weekend ever. With that challenge in mind, I've awakened each day with a purpose: to make my children happy. Nothing makes you more eager to get out of bed than having purpose.

I struggle with feeling important, like anything I do really matters. And I get tired of serving other people, to tell you the truth. But making people genuinely happy is a different goal entirely. It's not just about doing what needs to be done; it's about intentionally blessing others and giving them joy.

That is something to get out of bed for.

Painting Leaves With My Toes

I keep forgetting to write about this amazing experience I had a few weeks ago, but the punch-line is priceless. This may not be the prettiest writing (for lack of time), but I do want to "jot" it down.

Earlier in the month, Reggie's mom came to visit and to take us out to dinner for Reggie's birthday. But he wanted to get pizza and go to the park instead. So we had a picnic. It was such a cold day, but the kids were so active that they didn't feel it.

Partially to warm myself, partially to escape touchy-feely baby hands, and partially to get a little high on life, I took a seat on a swing and began to move, closing my eyes and traveling to another somewhere.

The higher I flew, the deeper I could breathe until I really did feel a bit high. I was giggling to myself and having the best time as the rest of the world disappeared.

Peeking over the playground equipment in front of me was an autumn tree bursting with red leaf invitation to my paintbrush toes. I cordially accepted with my legs, vigorously straightening and bending. As far as my eyes could see, my toes were definitely painting those leaves.

Yes, I might have appeared a bit overexuberant for a grown-up on a swingset.

I was swinging higher than all the children and might have drawn attention from onlookers, but I didn't notice their existence. I was completely wrapped up in my own little world of freedom, a place where no one could touch me.

Jordan drew me back to reality with her giggles, saying, "You're so silly! Mommies don't swing!"

I shouted, perhaps just a little too loudly, "This mommy swings!"

Then an alternate connotation occurred to me, but no one seemed interested in my faux-pas exclamation, my high-flying lunacy, or even my presence. So, as usual, I had a good laugh all by myself.

Getting Organized

I'd like to say I'm doing it myself. But I'm useless in the organization department. No, my husband is organizing me and our household. He is saving me from my natural self, I think. I am useless when it comes to routines and schedules. So you can see how I might fumble with bedtimes and homeschooling. But oh how Reggie is making our lives flow in places where I have failed miserably.

We have been considering putting Kaya in public school next semester because I've been so stressed out and overwhelmed. But today's lessons have gone extremely well (largely because of Reggie's tightening of our schedule). Perhaps we will continue homeschooling after all, especially if he continues to whip me into shape. I need it! He's even agreed to take on Kaya's math lessons because she fights with me so.

There may be hope for us yet.

Our children have actually been in bed by 8:30 (or so) every night for a week or two (it blurs). That is all Reggie's doing. He and I have been able to spend a lot more time together after the kids go to bed. And we're all getting up earlier in the morning. The new plan is to begin lessons at least by 8:00 rather than waiting until later in the day (as I prefer to do).

This morning (Day 1 on the new schedule), Kaya was in a great mood and was far more cooperative than I've seen her in a long time. We've finished all of our work for the day, and everyone is happy.

Have I mentioned lately how amazing my husband is? I would surely perish without him here to take care of me.

Sounds of Sea Salt

If you frequent this site, you will notice that I rotate playlists (found at the bottom of the page) every few days. The playlist I just added is likely my best compilation to date.

The following singers are from New Zealand or France. (Don't ask. I can't explain how I am pulled through the waters of music. The waves just crash, and I let them knock me over and drag me under.)

Musicians:

Kimbra

Bic Runga

Midnight Youth

Hayley Westenra

Emilie Simon

Camille

Carla Bruni

(My favorite songs are probably "Settle Down" and "Fleur de Saison" because of their funky sound.)

You may think I am wasting my life surfing through music. But I'd like to think I'm enhancing it. I also enjoy exposing my homeschooling children to varied cultural and artistic currents. They season the otherwise bland flavor of repetition and reason, leaving sea salt on lips that sing along.

Another Painting

This is a photo of the last painting I did. You tell me what you see and what you think. Then I'll tell you how it was birthed and what I call it. The name might give it away, and it may change.