I have SO MUCH work to do, my head is spinning. [I will spare you the gory details. You’re welcome.]
Bean has discovered YouTube crafting tutorials. This is almost but not quite allowing me to focus on work.
My current complaints include: neck pain, queasy tummy, still wearing Saturday’s pajamas, must finish contract, and did I really just brush my teeth for the first time today? Ew.
Bean… is happy, even though I keep declining his offers to join the art class he is conducting in the kitchen.
I also have to get ready for my makearoo jam session tomorrow. Totally psyched about that; wishing I could ignore all other professional responsibilities this week.
Being an adult is a pain in the ass. Being an adult rocks. Life isn’t fair. It’s also beautiful. All of these things are true.
I don’t want to talk about serious business right now, but it’s fine if you do. Really. Please go right ahead and roar at the sky. My silence is not a statement. It’s just a strategy to meet my own need for safety.
All this to announce that I’m going to be all sweetness and light for a while. I will write about and post photos of things that are hopeful, or funny, or sweet, or just simply delicious, like the homemade mango jam I got in the mail today. (I have a Hawaiian aunt. Be jealous.)
[Right now: “MOMMY?!? I NEED A TOILET PAPER ROLL. I’M MAKING A BUTTERFLY SNOWFLAKE.”]
It’s not that I don’t care about Newtown. I couldn’t possibly care more. I’m just not going to write about it. This is for the sake of my sanity, and also because there is a sweet little boy in the next room who hates it when his mommy cries. OK? OK.
This has been a post.
But this post is about the cardboard box it came in.
It’s quite large, of course, and as soon as I saw it I realized it would be perfect for making puppet show scenery.
Yesterday, I unveil the box to Bean. Tell him to do whatever he wants with it. Make a few suggestions. (“It could be an airport runway. Or a lake. Or a pirate’s treasure map!” Etc.)
His response? ”You really love me, Mommy! You really do!”
Then he runs downstairs and I hear him confiding in his grandmother. “DID YOU KNOW MOMMY IS AN ARTIST?”
Then he runs to the family room and proceeds to create a line of belts, custom-made for each member of the family.
Custom-made. Yes. This led to a talk about how some butts are small (his) and some butts are large (grandma’s) and still other butts are enormous (mommy’s), and all these butts are acceptable, happy butts.
This was last night. This morning he runs into my room, naked except for the belt, shouting, “BELTS THAT FIT WITH YOUR CLOTHES ARE TOO BIG WHEN YOU’RE NAKED, SEE?”
Then he lets go of the belt, it drops to the floor, and he steps out of it, the cardboard circle, while doing the Snoopy dance, and is on his way back out of my room again faster than I can say, “Mommy has to work now, sweetie.”