Momming Around

Danger. Have Book. Will Ignore. Everything.

Posted on by Beth Hull

Long, long, long ago, when I was a little munchkin, I loved to read books. Fast forward through the awkward middle school years, the dark teen angsty years, the wow-I-can-sleep-in-every-damn-day college years, and into the I-will-never-get-to-sleep-in-ever-again years of parenting. And I still love to read books.

It isn’t always as easy to find the time, and I almost never have the peace I used to have for it. But I still sneak books in wherever I can. While I’m fixing lunch, I might take a little extra time than usual. There might be one or two unnecessary trips to the bathroom during the afternoon. For the excruciating weeks when I had to stand in Z’s doorway as she fell asleep, I listened to audiobooks.

But it’s always a risk. If the book is terrible (and again and again I wonder how these things are even published, but that will always remain one of the world’s unsolvable mysteries)…where was I? Oh yes, if the book is terrible, and I read the whole thing (as I almost always do, because even if I hate the main character or think the plot is completely contrived or will scream my head off if another teenage protagonist LOVES the library)…where was I? So if I get through it, I’m grouchy because I wasted time on a dumb book.

The even bigger risk, though, is a book that sucks me in. With a short one, like Elizabeth Scott’s The Unwritten Rule, where the main character is totally completely forever in love with her best friend’s boyfriend, I’m pretty safe. I can get through the book in a couple of hours, quickly unload the dishwasher, read Z a story and jet to the park, and I feel like a good stay-at-home mommie.

But if it’s a suck-you-in book and it’s big and fat, like Jennifer Donnelly’s Revolution, and I have to get to the end of the story and it takes me more than a day, and I let everything go – housework, play dates, personal hygiene…those are the dangerous books. It’s a safe bet that we will eat, but the meals might be a little later than usual, and perhaps less involved. And heaven forbid if Z’s potty breaks don’t coincide with my own. “You have to what? But I just sat down with my book!” Suddenly I regret potty training.

If you want to get sucked in, here are some recent favorites. I’ve reviewed some of them here in my blog and helpfully provided the links…but why waste the time on a review when you can go read the book?

So it’s the weekend, you’ve got plenty of time. Get thee to a bookstore!

The Best Online Art Gallery Ever!

Posted on by Beth Hull

Art speaks to all of us in different ways, but nothing speaks quite so profoundly as a child’s visionary depictions of their worlds. As curator of the Best Online Art Gallery Ever, I feel blessed, nay, privileged, to give the Public access to these ocular delights.

Special thanks to Vicki, Leonie, Ann, Stephanie, and Jo for sharing masterpieces rendered by the special children in their lives.

The Turning 30 Challenge-Flop

Posted on by Beth Hull

For the last six months of my twenties, I imagined I’d be learning how to start a fire, mastering the art of folding fitted sheets, and experimenting with how best to clean the house in under fifteen minutes for unexpected guests. That’s what this book thinks I should know.

It hasn’t happened. I did learn how to start a fire in our wood stove, but I haven’t applied that knowledge practically. Fires are too scary. And my lumpy fitted sheets – really, who cares? As far as cleaning the house in under fifteen minutes, well, I’ve been toying with that marathon since I had a house to clean, and I don’t think I need a book’s advice on how to throw unfolded laundry in the closet and prioritize by scrubbing the sinks and toilets. That’s instinctual, that is.

I will turn 30 on Sunday with absolutely no help at all from a book, and what I’ve learned thus far in my life will serve me just fine.

—–

The kids art gallery will be postponed until next Wednesday. I have some amazing pieces already to include, but would like to give the artists’ supporters a little more time to gather their masterpieces. If you’re interested, check out last Wednesday’s post for details.

The Bed of Pain

Posted on by Beth Hull

I desperately need a shower. And maybe something with caffeine..and prozac. Z was awake for an hour and a half between 2:30 and 4. It was a NIGHTMARE. I finally bodily dragged her out of our bed, took her to her own, and said, “If you want to stay in Mommy and Daddy’s bed you will be STILL and QUIET.” Poor thing, she was crying, but she agreed. But then I was all irritated and my heart rate was up so it took me forever to fall back to sleep. She cuddled with me, though, and stayed asleep until almost 7:30. I took her to the bathroom and got her out of her diaper (she still wears them to bed at night), got her a snack of raspberries and Cheerios and brought it to my bed and told her to amuse herself until 8:00. Then I kinda dozed for awhile. Wearing earplugs, of course.

UGH. In twelve years, she will be fourteen and want to sleep until noon, and I will get her up at the crack of dawn on Saturdays to do chores. Revenge shall be MINE!

Mwahahahahaha.

Yes, I’m laughing, but I’m also kind of crying.

Portrait of the Toddler as a Young Artist

Posted on by Beth Hull

She’s not so much a “toddler” as a “careener,” but that’s a blog post for another day.

“One feather…two feathers…but he can’t fly,” she says as she deftly moves the dry erase marker across her white board. Our artist today is creating a penguin, which should be readily evident to all who view it.

Examine, if you will, the small aperture at the top of the head – the penguin’s beak. Also of note in this image is the artist’s careful handling of the marker. She clutches it in the form of such famous artists as Monsieur Pou Pou and Dame Underfungly.

In the image on the right, the artist has given the penguin so much more: an aura to symbolize the life of the penguin. The penguin’s very being is celebrated in this caul-esque addition. View below, the bottom point of the penguin, and we see another dark feature, twin to the beak rendered above. This, the artist informs me, is the penguin’s “egg.” As if I needed telling. “But you can’t see it,” she says. “Why not?” I inquire. “He’s sitting on it.” The beak on top, the egg on the bottom – the artist has expertly captured the very symbolism inherent in parent-child relationships: I exist to feed you.

Penguin Parent

Finally, in the image at left, we have the final masterpiece. This penguin encapsulates the very concept of penguin. It now enjoys legs, and some additional eggs.

The artist, while often finding inspiration in nature, works primarily indoors on days when the weather is unpleasant. Perhaps she finds this creative outlet as an escape to cabin fever, desiring to infuse her immediate surroundings with natural phenomena that encapsulate freedom and fun.

Her primary joy is in creating one small image on a blank space, and then slowly elaborating upon the image throughout the course of a morning. She often enlists the help of friends and family for filling in the more mundane aspects of her masterpieces. In the dramatic rendering below, “Cabin Below Full Moon,” the artist has expertly incorporated the more rudimentary drawings of family members into her vibrant and large-scale depiction of the natural, amorphic symphony of the night sky.

Cabins Below Full Moon

How fortunate we are to be privy to the magic of an artist’s work in progress! Now, I would like to open up my “museum,” if you will, to the Public. Do you have a favorite artist in your life? Is he or she creating awesome works of art that should be viewed by one and all? If you have my email address, go ahead and send me a jpeg file of your artist’s work. If you don’t have my email address, contact me through the tab at the top of my website. In two weeks, I will showcase the work of all our favorite artists. (No copyrighted images, please.)

Also, this Friday tune in to an interview with the talented Yvonne Prinz, author of The Vinyl Princess and All You Get is Me.