It's a beautiful spring day and Jake and I just took off for a walk around the neighborhood checking out houses and looking for garage sales. No luck. I pulled him in his red wagon and got a nice little workout and he finally decided that a nap would be good. When we came home, I lifted him out of the trailer and carried him inside, his 42 lbs. wrapped around me, he lifted his head just enough to give me a kiss on the neck. We wonder why we got into this parenting thing, but for moments like these. I carried him into his room and we fell on his bed hugging each other. Both of us dozed off and now the house is quiet with both boys crashed in each room (Dad and the Jakester). I am hoping to take this time to squeeze in an hour of yoga, as I was too exhausted to try this morning after a late night at Shannon's Art Opening. Can I just keep linking to her site since she has the most wonderful pieces that hint at "springacoming" and often symbolize the love for children both here and there. She's really accomplished something cool with her art. Oh Shannon, if you ever bother to read this, put your artist's statement in your website. It's cool. Speaking of art, I pryed Jake away from the TV for awhile the other night and we did felt replications of ourselves. I've decided to start torturing you with bad art pieces that might actually get good over time, so that's what you see here. I'll take any art project these days and am hoping to try and take a class at Laguna Gloria soon. I figure one type of art might lead to another, you never know. Laguna Gloria offers so many great art classes ranging from painting, to computers and even a little metalsmithing and jewelry making, and textiles. I could live there. I am the most artistic unartist I know, or is it unartistic artist. Hmm. I'm reading Love and Logic, a guide on parenting. From what I can surmise over the 1st chapter, it's mostly about offering options and being sympathetic to the demise your child has gotten themselves into. I really enjoy it. "Oh, I'm sorry you have to go to your room because you are talking back to me, maybe next time you won't talk back and then you can stay here and play." This works for me . . .it' so much better than, "Goddammit, I told you to stop fucking talking back to me, get the hell out of my face." Not that I would talk like that, but I swear the thought has gone through my head a couple of times. I did not know that a 4-year-old could be a smartass, but apparently, when it's my son, yes, a 4-year-old can be a smartass. Oh well. You can check it out by clicking the link on my title entry. Meanwhile, it's almost 4pm and I'm gonna try to jam out some Kundalini, clean the house and maybe sew today. Everyday, I try to sew today. What do you try to do every day, but never do? How about you go out and grab some sunshine and remember that the only thing that is standing in your way of today, is you. Make some art, do some yoga, smell the fresh air and kiss your kiddos, pooches, cats, hamsters, birds or wife. Just go give some love.
2 comments:
I love you Jo. Thanks for coming last night. thanks for always being there.
Did I catch you walking down Pasadena today? I saw this really cool woman tugging along her blond beauty (who was entertainingly gabbing to himself, too cute). I wanted to stop the car and say hi, but we were running late for a soccer game.
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