white picket fence

happy advent

Fra Angelico, The Annunciation

It's finally time. Finally time to break out the sparkly lights. To cue up Handel's Messiah, Johnny Cash's Personal Christmas Collection, and Sufjan Stevens Songs for Christmas (all three of which are my favorite Christmas albums, all three of which make me cry every year without fail). Time for coffee and gingerbread cookies for breakfast, without a trace of guilt. 

But technically. . . it's not really Christmas now. It's Advent. A time to wait, and think, and hope. I'm kind of a curmudgeon in some ways. Every year I get more and more anxious about money and materialism and gift giving and what all that means. Every year I'm more and more convinced that it's not about presents or music or even Candy Cane Joe-Joes, as delicious as they may be. And don't get me wrong, I'm not discouraging any sugarplum visions. I currently have full virtual shopping carts littered all over the internet. There will most likely be more than one gift under the tree marked "To: Me, From: Me." And between the three cookie-eating members of our family, we've already gone through a whole box of those Joe-Joe's.

But I want to make sure that it's more than that too. More than just wordly things. I want Advent and Christmas for our family to mean growth, kindness, and peace. To be about waiting for the baby Jesus in the manger. And being like Mary who "treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart." So that's my hope for this Advent season. 

easy vs. hard

Some things are just plain easy. Drinking coffee in the morning. Thinking about a weekly meal plan. Zerbert-ing a fat baby tummy. Taking pictures of leaves. Happy things. 

Some things start easy. . . but end up being harder. Sitting on the couch (because you know, at some point you do have to get up OFF the couch.) Making all those meals on the meal plan. And here's my big one: Handling everything yourself and never asking for help. 

And some things, the best things, seem hard but end up making everything easier. Making a ton of food at once so you don't have to cook all week long. Going out for a walk instead of sitting on the couch. Sticking to a routine. And humbling yourself to admit that you need help. . . and then asking for it.

You have to cross over the hard part to get to the easy part. And obviously by "you" in that sentence, I really mean "I." That's where I'm at this week. 

real life. fall 2011.

This is what my life looks like: 

I mentioned the other day on twitter that I've been working hard at real life lately. Real life = keeping both kids in solid routines, cooking a lot, reading stories and playing, trying to maintain a tidy house. It sounds so easy, doesn't it? But it's not for me, somehow. For a while now I've felt so confused about why I have a hard time managing a household. It seems to come so easily for some women, but I've learned that I really have to work at it. It's worth it, completely, but it takes work. 

It's easy for me to daydream all day and get absent-minded and end the day wondering what filled our hours. And listen: as someone whose natural inclination is toward intensely solitary pursuits (reading novels, long walks alone listening to mopey music, etc), parenting 2 small children can be a challenge. The constant questions of a 2 and a half year old. The baby crying. The bowls of cheerios spilled on the floor. And oh dear, just the thought of dressing 2 small people in winter clothes and herding/wrangling them into the car is exhausting to me. 

But I'm applying myself to it. Getting things done and staying ahead. Staying focused on the kids, the house, myself, right now. And it feels a thousand times more satisfying than you'd think. 

Typing this out it all sounds so incredibly boring and awful; I mean, it's not mind-blowingly original content here for me to say: Look at me! I got laundry done! We read David's favorite Dr. Seuss book 2 dozen times! I made honey mustard chicken with rice for dinner! But: that's my real life. And I'm really happy with it. 

more doodle pages from the Walls notebook

I'm still enjoying my Walls notebook (originally blogged about here). As much as I prefer working in mixed media, sometimes a simple pen and paper is the best way to squeeze a little art into the free minutes of my day. The pages fill up little by little and I know I'm going to love the way the book looks when it's all finished. Though I'm guessing it will be years from now. 

A little more knocking around with turtles. You can see some baseball players in there too, which means David was watching me draw and giving me suggestions. 

Since I usually draw funny happy goofy faces, I've been switching it up lately and going to the other side of the emotional range. Sad faces, mad faces. Sometimes they still look funny to me, but definitely not happy. 

And, as always, reminders to myself. I think maybe if I write certain words enough times it will sink in to my brain a little better. Kind of like how I used to copy out all my college art history class notes three times: once in class, once after class, and once to study for tests. But that's a story for a different day...

sweet honey bee

I have so much to talk to you guys about but I swear I just can't get it together. Like I kind of feel like my brain is a giant 5,000 piece puzzle and I can't find the pieces that really matter to put the picture together. So, while all my other content wastes away in half-finished draft posts, here are some cute pictures of Norah in a bee costume:

Happy Sunday.