Bad Blogger!

I am without a doubt a very negligent, sporadic, unfocused and horribly lazy blogger....B.A.D.
I volley between feeling guilty for this and thinking "What the Hey?...it doesn't even matter!"   I know the second to be true and the first is just a testament to the "type" of individual I am.  Yet in an attempt to organize my "junk" I once again sit down to type. 
What should this look like?  I'm not sure. 
What are my intentions for this?  Initially I hoped this would be a bargain basement vehicle to promoting my art, but mostly it became a lengthy ramble of  random stuff I needed to say whether anyone cared to listen or not so once again I proceed without much of a plan in mind!
Therefore if you've landed yourself back here on my page: Proceed with caution!
                         -You've been warned! 
No rhyme or reason follows!
                                                   -just a mess of thoughts and activities and musings from a slightly neurotic,
                      somewhat creative,
            half hermit,
free spirit
                                                           disguised as a mom and wife and artist too! (among a bunch of other stuff)
who somewhere along the way decided having a blog. 
Oh and a Vineyard page coming soon!  ;)

  


   

Dear Sam,

Once upon a time back in the very early days of motherhood I made a promise to myself, at the time I was basking in the delicate beauty of my firstborn's new tiny face, hands and toes it seemed like an entirely realistic promise.  I'm sure too, there are many moms out there who made similar promises and managed to keep them.  I'm also equally as sure that there are a few who will understand just why I broke it.
 
You see, my promise was that I would write a letter to my child each and every year upon the anniversary of their birth outlining all the wonderful things about them, how far they'd come, how much they meant to me and the wishes that I had for their future.  I admit that Emma, being the first will someday receive a small pile of letters, perhaps 3, maybe 4...they're tucked safely away somewhere among the detrious of our busy lives, April being our second has at least 1 maybe 2, Isaac, our third has one for sure but Samuel...the last little miracle that appeared in our lives hasn't got even a one and for that I am ashamed.
  
I remember being a kid and wondering why there were albums dedicated to my older sister whereas when I arrived I dotted the albums but certainly never became the prime focus.  Being a relatively vocal individual in and around our home I didn't hesitate to whine about my lack of importance in my parents lives...so obviously displayed by their disinterest in capturing my precious and fleeting baby and childhood days with the same attention they devoted to their first.  Mom and Dad, just in case you're reading...please rest assured that even back then I kind of got it, I was only half upset and being the cantankerous kid I was, I was simply doing my best to stir the pot, but then I suspect you know that too!  ;)

Life was easy with one baby, she slept, I slept or did work around the house or wrote my love letters, life with two was somewhat more challenging, when baby slept, I gave my attention to number one, with three I just kept up and with four I ran.  Not to say anything was harder because I firmly believe you grow and adapt to your circumstances and you are only forced to grow as fast as your children do so it was all a very intrinsic and necessary process but the promise of beautiful letters went by the wayside so for today I will take just a few moments to honour my little Samuel, who may never even see this but if I'm being honest with myself, that's okay too because I hope that if we raise our children half as well as we ourselves were raised with time and maturity they will know too that they were loved, each individually and differently but unequivocally loved. 

So Happy Birthday sweet Samuel!, it seems like only yesterday I was meeting you for the very first time but in fact five years have gone and you being my last baby have received quite a lot from us all.  Your mom and dad have spoiled you in ways we know we may someday soon regret and still find it excessively hard to set boundaries when we hate to see that cute little smile turn upside down.  You know that though and it's a constant struggle to remind ourselves just how much you're really playing us!  We must remain firm to help you to become the caring, compassionate and unspoiled individual we hope you will grow to be. 
The day of your birth was different from all your siblings, mom had been through two normal deliveries and then when Isaac appeared all bets were off, he became an emergency section and so 3 years later my choices were taken from me and you were my first elective C-section.  So your birth was really quite simple and straightforward, I knew what to expect and just couldn't wait to see who you were.  Being a farm family, when the doctor lifted you out he congratulated your daddy saying, "You've got yourself a farmer!"  That was our first laugh because dad quickly asked the doctor what that meant since the best farmers in the family have been the girls.  We were so happy to have a second little boy though and felt like we'd won a jackpot, two sisters close in age and now two brothers too...how perfect! 
And really, it has been.  You've been a calm and sweet kid from the day of your birth,  maybe requiring a little more attention and longer cuddle times as a baby when we were helping you to sleep, but then we were only too happy to supply as we realized fully by then just how fleeting baby days are.  Otherwise you've always been thoughtful and interested in examining or discussing how things were put together or what was said and analyzing it all.  Quite a little man actually.  Last year your wish was to be a scientist or a vaccuumer when you grow up, this year, I think the scientist still makes the list but with your own little responsibilities made clear by now in assisting your siblings with picking toys up and putting bedrooms back together the other occupation has gone by the wayside.  You love your lego and although delight in getting a new kit to construct are at your happiest with a fistful of mismatched pieces that you will spend hours working and reworking into different creations each night after your school aged siblings have gone to bed and showing us your self proclaimed "latest vention".  We still let you cuddle down occassionally between us in bed as much for us as you, there's absolutely nothing sweeter than watching you drift asleep little guy and I know too soon you'll be too grown up to even ask.  I savour each of those nights and it really doesn't require much effort at all to lift you up and gently settle you back into your own bed just a little later.  You are the image of your father, the cutest little thing Emma has ever seen, perfect little student for April and the best of chum Isaac could ever have.  For me you are more precious and wonderful than I could ever attempt to vocalize.   I wish you health and dignity, I hope you continue to grow to be as thoughtful and analytical as you have always been, always thinking things through first, I think that's a trait that will serve you well in years to come.  I hope you're kind and compassionate and treat all people with respect and honour.  I look forward to seeing the man you will someday become but for now I hope you are happy and that life is joyous, I know you are smart, I hope kindergarten is wonderful...and I hope that not a day goes by that you don't know that we love you!  Happy Birthday!  Love, Mom

                   

     

The New Year...

A time for new beginnings,

new possibilities, new challenges, adventures, complications.

Who knows what the New Year will hold?

Not I.

I’m not making any resolutions…I am big on planning but I don’t like making promises I know I won’t likely keep…to myself or others.  So, I will go quietly on my journey, one day at a time since we really don’t know what the future will hold, I will only attempt to do my best at whatever moment I find myself in and I know I’ll fall short of the mark a thousand times over…but I’ll keep trying again and again.  

So, for today…a time to celebrate how far I’ve come, the wonderful world around me, the family we’ve created and the blessings we’ve been given.

For tomorrow…Who knows?

St. Theresa’s Prayer

“May today there be peace within.

May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.

May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.

May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.

May you be content knowing that you are a child of God.

Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.

It is there for each and every one of us.”

Happy New Year!  Jen

Stuck

Okay, I admit it, I am stuck.  Teetering on a really wobbly plank and I cannot make that plank balance any more than I can tip it in the direction of success.  I can at any moment very unglamorously fall off.

 

Creativity:

I always believed I just had it.

No matter what.  

Now I realize, a bit too late that I too, like every other normal person out there can lose it.  I have lost it. 

Trouble is I need it now and no matter what I do to coax it from its shell, it is eluding me.  

I can paint pretty well.  No, I’m not Degas, Van Gogh, Matisse, Chagall, Leonardo, Warhol, or any of the other great geniuses, not even a modern day undiscovered one, but I can usually paint something that impresses someone.  Not so much, not right now. 

My genius (as classified by Elizabeth Gilbert in a TED presentation on creativity  http://www.ted.com/talks/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius.html) must be lost under the dust bunnies in some corner of my world.  I keep showing up to paint and my genius is not following.  Maybe it went on a trip…wish it took me with it, I could use a break.  Maybe it decided to find someone more worthy to attach itself to? 

Whatever.

All I know is panic is beginning to set in. 

And we are suffering.  Not the deep down true suffering that appears in so many people’s lives in death, in sickness, in war, in chaos, in violence.  But I am slowly going mental.  My kids look at me like I’ve grown 3 heads, My house is getting grimy, the laundry is overwhelming me.  My husband has this look of sympathy and I have developed a habit of screaming out loud (not really loud...not quite there yet!) for no apparent reason when what I am trying to coax out of my paintbrush repeatedly fails to transpire upon my canvas.  I 've also hit up a friend or two about my dilemma and if I keep this up eventually I'll become their plague. 

I have a goal and I am starting to believe I will not achieve it. 

I need to paint.  I want to paint WELL.  I don’t want to blow this and I’m afraid I’m going to. 

Meanwhile…my posts will become even more infrequent.  I cannot help this because I’m stubborn enough to keep trying.  I will paint every opportunity I get and I will either waste a pile of art supplies or I will eventually pull off a successful first ever studio tour.  Time will tell. Pray for me…I need it! 

Cheers, Jen