Mommy Guilt :: Lessons Learned

 

This week my mommy guilt kicked into high gear.  What should have been a week of bliss quickly turned into late night problem solving, lots and lots of tears, and cold compresses.  It wasn't all bad, but it wasn't all good either  This quote by J.D. Salinger really speaks to me and I think there is definitely more than a kernel of truth to it - at least for this mother.

Bodega Harbour Pool
Art Word for the Day :: FORWARD

The third week in July signals our annual pilgrimage to Bodega Bay [a mere seven miles west of us]. Our dear friends loan us their weekend beach home and we settle in like we're on a real vacation.  Here's a few blog posts from years gone by 2013, 2012, 2011, 2010.

Sunset cocktails with the Rangels
Art word for the day :: GROW

We have friends over for sunset cocktails, easy dinners & catch up on our reading and t.v. watching.  We settle into a routine of early mornings, loading sports gear in and out of the car and we usually try really hard to disconnect from our normal lives.  These easy-breezy routines proved to be a challenge this time around.

Art Word for the Day :: HOME
Our home as viewed through the blooming Queen Anne's Lace

In the months leading up to this week, Grady told us he wasn't really into golf and the fact that he didn't want to continue taking lessons.  He shared that tennis lessons & swimming with his friends were his favorite parts of the week.  His father assured him that one day he would appreciate knowing the basics of golf and that he needed to take the lessons he signed up for.  We decided this would be the last year of making him take golf lessons, but he had to follow through with this year's commitment.  Looking back, I wish we had heeded this no golf premonition.

Sunset + hammock on the back deck
Art word for the day :: LIQUID

Grady got a major haircut during the week prior to camp and, therefore, had baby fresh skin on his neck, ears and around his hairline.  In a lame display of my mothering prowess, I neglected to put sunscreen on my son's ears and oh did they get burnt!  Like really, really fried.  Motherhood fail…big time.  He soldiered on for Day 1 of Camp and did the golf-tennis-pool circuit, but those little ears were fire engine red, swollen and hot to the touch.

Art word for the day :: KALEIDOSCOPE
Colored pencil sharpening as meditation

Our days usually start early with golf, a quick transfer to tennis, and we grab a quick lunch by the pool and he swims for hours - making new friends or reconnecting with last summer's friends.  All the while, I sit on a lounge chair and try to read.  Really, I'm watching all the connections, the laughter and looking for the signs that my kiddo has had enough.  When he finally tires of swimming, I wrap him up in a beach towel and we head home for afternoon naps.

The naked ladies are up early this year & their color is influencing my art making
Womb paintings in progress

I could tell by the look in his eyes that this boy was not okay on Day 2.  His eyeballs were bloodshot, his ears were puffed out to the max and he was warm to the touch.  We abbreviated our time spent at the pool and headed back to the beach house for a cool shower and cold compresses for his ears, which were now starting to blister.  Oh, how could I have been so stupid and forgotten the ears?

Old man sun hat became mandatory during the latter part of the week
We had unprecedented sunshine the entire week we were in Bodega Bay (usually it's grey & foggy)

It's hard to see your child lethargic and out of it, especially when you have so much fun planned for them.  In the middle of the night he woke up crying, in pain and not sure what was going on.  I washed his face with a cool washcloth and brought him to bed with us.  I stroked his brow and lulled him to sleep.  His ears were sensitive, raw and I'm pretty sure he had all of the symptoms of a mild sun stroke.   Oh, my mother's guilt was starting to set in.  It's a powerful, powerful thing.

Art word of the day :: IMAGINE
Our kitchen table during morning art sessions

He continued his lessons, but I lathered him up with sunscreen and zinc oxide.  I made him drink lots of water and eliminated the pool time from his routine.  He pushed through for the remainder of the week, but he just wasn't himself.  A sinus infection was developing, too, and we just needed to get home.  I silently promised myself that I would travel with 100 SPF sunscreen in my purse for the next 13 years.

Art word for the day :: JABBERWOCKY
Reunited with the Rangel girls upon their arrival home from a month long trip to Spain

Once we got back to our home at the end of the week, things started to improve and the brightness returned to his eyes and cheeks.  I decided to really focus on resting and getting him well, as our big trip to Alaska was on the horizon and less than a week away.

Purple potatoes from Bloomfield Organics from our CSA box
New book :: Alabama Moon by Watt Key (he can't put it down)

We lost ourselves in books and art, but not before he had another meltdown about our new daily art project that we had been working on.  He shared that he wanted to be free with his art and not have an assignment.  I had to let go, if I learned nothing over the last 10 days - I had to learn to listen to this kid and what he's feeling.  I had to pay attention to the signs and honor his words.  And, so I did.  There were tears and good talks and all that stuff that goes into making a good decision.  I would miss our mornings drawing together, but he needed a say and I needed to let him know he was heard. I have a feeling he'll be back sooner rather than later at the kitchen table.  

I'll wait.  

It'll give me a chance to absorb a big 'ole lesson in patience and give him some space.

My tendency to go full steam ahead needed to be tempered and he reminded me of that.  And while mommy's guilt is generally counter-productive, in theory, I think it was a nice big red flag for me to STOP, listen, slow down and tune in to what my kid was saying.

And, as far as art goes, I don't want to be bossy art mom.  That sounds horrible, right?  No fun at all.  I just want to be there for him and make space for him to show up, pick up a pencil and start again when he's ready.

By the end of this week I forgave myself for not putting sunscreen on my sweet kid and protecting him from the sun.  I also forgave myself for unwittingly pushing him creatively.  These two separate experiences actually served as a wonderful metaphor and a great reminder that I can't protect him from everything and I can't force him to use his talents.

I can only lead by example, show him what to do and do the best I can.

If that's slightly insane…then so be it.

Change :: Art + Hair

We have hit an emotional wall in terms of our mother & son daily art journaling.  You see, I was tired of asking my son if he had done his drawing for the day and he was real tired of me asking.  Let me give you a bit more background.

Last November, Steve took Grady to see David Hockney: A Bigger Exhibition at the de Young Museum in San Francisco and he was floored by it.  I had gone to the show a few weeks prior and just knew both of my guys would love it.  Grady was particularly interested in Hockney's iPad drawings and his favorite pieces were the large trees in the Yosemite series.  Hockney used the Brushes app and then printed those "drawings" out on a massive printer and they stood 12 feet tall.

Word of the day :: ALARM
Grady's interpretation left & mine on the right

Fast forward to New Year's Day and a very smart young man trying to work his mother into letting him use his new iPad every day.  His angle?  He wanted to make a New Year's resolution to do a drawing every day on his iPad, using the Brushes application, just like Hockney, Mom.

Truth be told, I was less than thrilled about this change of routine, as we had previously been drawing in the wee morning hours with pencils and/or watercolors on paper.  Our experiments were low key and the time spent with him was really enjoyable for me.  We talked over breakfast and my morning coffee.  He was keeping a semi-daily journal and I was playing around infrequently with watercolors. There were no rules or expectations.

I thought committing to a year-long project might be fun for us, but I worried about the follow through of a project that would (or should) last 365 days.  That's a lot for a kid.  Heck, that's a lot for me.

Word of the day :: BED
Grady's (left) + Mine (right0

Now, I knew he was working me on the increased iPad usage, but after seeing how excited he was about the Hockney creations I decided to give in a little and said yes.  My only parameter was that it had to be every day and that his father's only request was to learn to use Dropbox to save his drawings in an organized fashion.  Our thinking was that he could stretch his creative mind and learn to utilize technology beyond playing games on his iPad.  It felt like it would be a good tool and that appealed to all of us.

Word of the day :: CIRCLE
Grady's (top) + Mine (below)
For the record :: I didn't know what circle jerk meant until after I drew this!

It became clear pretty quickly that he was just doing a drawing as fast as he could (30 seconds to a minute or two) and just hurrying through the process.  He stopped drawing and painting on paper or canvas.  His art studio was primarily used to store his Lego collection and he would escape out there to listen to books on tape.  No art was happening out there.  None.

My husband encouraged me to let him ride it out and assured me that his use of the iPad was a good exercise.  I wasn't so sure.  I felt like he was taking the easy way out and it slowly became clear to me that he was starting to resent the question I posed to him almost daily - Have you completed your drawing yet?  Most days, the answer was a sheepish no.

Word of the day :: DARK
Grady's (left) + Mine (right)

Last weekend he broke down in tears and shared with me that he hates drawing on the iPad.  He was four days behind in his drawings and he did not want to continue with the iPad drawing project.

What?  My patience paid off?  He didn't want to draw on the iPad?  Hallelujah!  That only took six and a half months...

He said he missed drawing with me in the mornings and that it just wasn't as fun on the iPad.  He was back.  I was beaming.  I was more than ready to begin something new and I just so happen to love a new plan or project.

I quickly ushered him into the kitchen and we pulled out our art journals and talked it over.  I knew we both had to be into this or it wouldn't work.

Word of the day :: EASY
Grady's (left) + Mine (right)

Ultimately, we decided on picking a word out of his trusty pocket-sized thesaurus and each of us would interpret it on paper.  The only catch was that we had to agree on the word and we would start with the letter A and work out way through the alphabet.

I know he could tire of this new routine, too, but I think we both enjoy the morning chats and collaboration.  I think he feels seen by me and I know I'm really listening to him during this quiet, focused time together.  

It's my favorite part of the day and I've really missed it.  I think he has, too.

Grady, 11-1/4 years old
BEFORE + AFTER

He's morphing and changing so rapidly.  His art, his clothing stylings, and his hair!  He's been asking for weeks to get his hair cut and I was a bit sad to see his long, golden locks go.  He can't stop looking at himself.  It feels like he shed a bit of the old Grady and is ready for all the new that is about to happen.  I'm so glad he's been asking for what he wants.  He's finding his voice and gaining confidence, too.

We're headed to Alaska in a few weeks and in August he is moving to a brand new school to start the sixth grade.  

He's navigating all of this change with a lot of maturity and I guess I'm going to have to follow his lead.

Change is good, right?  Right...

When I Die by Annie Flavin

"Worlds Collide" Watercolors + salt treatment

Several years ago I attended the funeral of a friend who died way too young.  She was a mom of a little boy and only 42 years old.  Tragic, heartbreaking, sad.  All of it.

I couldn't find a sitter for Grady, who was almost three at the time, so he went with me.  I sat in the back of the church for a full Catholic mass.  I had no idea how long that service would stretch and I sweated profusely and tried to respectfully listen AND keep my three year old in check and occupied.

"Large Dahlia" Micron pen 1.0 + colored pencils

I have a feeling my friend would have understood his sudden outbursts, his untimely laughter, his screeches and his need to climb up and over the pews.  I like to think she would have laughed her infectious laugh and encouraged more of this toddler behavior from Grady.  She totally understood little boys, especially her own.

I wish I had read Annie's poem before I went to that service because then I could have seen my friend in Grady.  Instead, I just shushed him and left feeling like I was only was half-present during the mass and, to be honest, a little (okay, a lot) frazzled.

Annie's poem is a beautiful reminder to appreciate this precious life right here, right now.  I especially love the last stanza.

Let them fill the void that I have left.
Let the children be children and 
let their light shine
through any sadness.
Let them be.
Tell them my name, maybe a story, too.
Remember me.  See me.
In
the
children.

I want to burn this on my brain and remember it when I hear children screaming at a school event, at a funeral or the grocery store.  When I'm uncomfortable at something my child has said, but is his truth.  I want to recall these words to help me have more compassion and see the beauty in the little ones I encounter at the park, the beach or in a quiet movie theatre.

I want to let them be.

I want to remember my friend this way.

In the children.

Now.

The weeks are flying by and I've wanted to come here and write in this space, but I can't seem to sit down and do it on a regular basis.  I guess that's what summer is for, right?  Getting out there, soaking up all that life has to offer.

I love to make a list and so here are a few of our moments that are happening right now, so I don't forget how wonderful and full our right now is.

Our bi-weekly sojourn to the Marin Mobile Library in Tomales

Grady, 11 years
Attending :: A weeklong day camp where he will canoe, shoot a bow & arrow, learn new games, braid friendship bracelets and share space & stories with new friends.

Reading :: Harry Potter 6 & 7, again (oh! and now 3 is back in rotation!).

Practicing :: With his new soccer team at Ragle Park.  Our new routine will be soccer every Saturday.

Pontificating :: I like new shoe smell, don't you?  This statement upon receiving new "cool" shoes from his grandma Gigi.

Helping :: His dad water our small orchard and trim trees.

Learning :: How to drop in from his camp counselor, Zeph, at our local skate park mid-week.

Seeing :: His book list recommendations published & shared on the Mamalode.com website this week.

Dropping :: In for the first time at the skate park!  You were so proud when you came home.  And sweaty.  This was your first time doing it and you were beaming when you walked through the door Sunday night.

Manhattans :: My New Love

Us (Me + Steve)
Dating :: We enjoyed an incredible kid-free meal at one of our local restaurants, Terrapin Creek.  Every time we eat here, we say we need to do this more often.

Nightcapping :: We had the best Manhattans this week at Rocker Oysterfellers and are now on the hunt for the perfect dried sour cherries, so that we can make them at home.

Playing :: At the annual bocce tournament put on by Steve's clients was this weekend.  I did want to get on record that I beat Team Father & Son.  Beginner's luck.

Wild Fennel

Me
Reading :: I finished two books this week - Glitter and Glue by Kelly Corrigan & The Map of Enough by Molly Caro May

Watching :: The most fascinating documentary film My Life as a Turkey and Season 2 of House of Cards.

Foraging :: Wild fennel in full bloom on the roadsides by the armful for simple, stunning arrangements.  They drop seeds, so the bouquets are on my outside tables.  I can see them from my living room and they are so lovely.

Serving :: Jury Duty called this week, but I was dismissed.  There was quite a commotion with the protestors and news crews present for the DA's decision on the Andy Lopez case.  We were safely locked in a courtroom at one point, as the protestors raged outside the courthouse.

Lounging :: I have completely become one with my hammock this week.  Reading and pondering life while cocooned by the braided ropes lowered my blood pressure this week.

Creating :: I worked on several illustrations to accompany the beautiful words of poet Annie Flavin and popped them in the mail to her.

Soaking :: Up all the beautiful imagery from Matt Kish's gorgeous book Moby-Dick in Pictures.  552 pages of illustrations, collages and paintings.  I would love to crawl inside his artistic mind for a day! What an inspiration.

Enjoying :: The solitude of my home right now.  Birds chirping, bees buzzing and windows wide open until late in the evening.  We heard and spotted our first owl this summer.

What are you doing right now?

Spoons by Annie Flavin

Earlier this year, I took a line drawing class that was taught by one of my favorite artists.  It quickly became clear to me that her work ethic and design aesthetic would seep deep into my bones.  My lifelong fascination and appreciation for circles have found a prominent place in my doodling.  Full circles, oblong circles, semi-circles in all shapes and sizes.

Annie Flavin's poem Spoons needed some illustration work.  Annie held a Facebook contest a few weeks ago and she offered a few original illustrated poems as her prizes.  While Grady attended a local day camp this week, I set out to create a few new designs to go with her words.

Black Micron Pen 1.0 + colored pencils

Since I can't really draw actual spoons, I decided to work on interpreting Annie's poem in a more abstract way.

The illustration (above) would have two rows of semi-circles resting back to back, as humans would when spooning.  The pops of color and the not-so-perfect semi-circles would represent all of us.  No two matching or perfectly formed.  Imperfectly perfect.

Black Micron Pen 1.0 + Red Micron Pen 0.5

This design is my favorite (above).  The empty space in between is where I think god/God or energy/Energy is.  It's empty on purpose, but also could be construed as rigid or divisive space; wide open or set free.

The semi-circles on the right and the left stand to represent all of us, as referenced in the poem.  The two red semi-circles (on the right and left) could be the person(s) in the night searching for their god or God, trying to find their church.  The one on the right most likely feels like the one on the left, even though they are separated by the emptiness in the middle and, therefore, they are not alone.

This grouping of semi-circles could also be construed as a congregation.

We are all the same, no matter who or what god or God we believe in.

Micron Pen 1.0 + colored pencils

This last illustration (above) is a series of three wonky hearts (as Annie has three little ones), split in two.  They could easily be fused back together with the assistance of deep love, strength, or gratitude, as mentioned in the stanzas of Annie's poem.  Once again, the semi-circles and sporadic color choices reference all people or the masses and the blank space stands to symbolize an unknown, invisible god or God.

I'm really enjoying reading Annie's thoughtful words and interpreting them through my drawings.  All of these musings are mine and not meant to taint or change the poem in any way.  I'm just sharing how I'm receiving her words and how they flow through me and out onto paper.

I actually quite enjoyed the purposeful negative space in these drawings and they felt hopeful and spiritual to me.  Annie's concept that church can be anywhere struck a chord with me, too.

I'd love to hear what you think.

As Long As She's Mine by Annie Flavin

Black Micron pen 1.0 + hot pink screen printing ink + water

Over the past few months, I've been collaborating with a very talented woman named Annie Flavin.  She writes about motherhood, real life, marriage, love and kindness (and so many other wonderful themes) and has such a fresh and enlightened perspective.

My role in our collaboration has been to illustrate her powerful, truthful words.

Watered down hot pink screen printing ink

I'm learning a lot about my process and myself along the way.  Like, I'm most inspired in the morning.  First thing.  I want to create almost immediately upon waking.  I quickly brush my teeth and put the coffee on, scan my phone and check in on my Instagram account.  I'm ready.

I pour out the contents of my trusty pencil pouch and grab my go-to black Micron pen and the ideas and concepts start to flow.  I grab a small glass of water, paper towel and jar full of paint brushes.  The need to get my ideas out and onto paper feels urgent and I'm fueled now by the coffee and the images swirling around in my head.

Black Micron pen 1.0 + hot pink colored pencil

For this particular poem I felt like I had to use hot pink.  Now, I'm not usually a pink person.  Nothing in my house is pink - nothing.  In fact, I grew up in a house that had an entire living room covered in pink cottage roses.  The couch, loveseat, oversized chair and ottoman.  The curtains, valances, porcelain candy dishes and fine china, too.  

Pink used to repel me, but a few years ago my mother-in-law sent me this Marimekko purse and I softened to the color.  Hot pink started to feel strong and bold to me.  I recently changed purses and pulled that gifted Marimekko bag out from the back of the closet.  That same day I thrifted these beautifully patterned outdoor pillows.  Hot pink was infiltrating my little world and I was starting to like it and noticing it in my day-to-day life.  I quickly went out and bought a hot pink colored pencil and a tube of hot pink screen printing ink and was eager to get started.

This particular use of hot pink symbolizes the She or "the soul" in this poem.

The imperfect circles and lines serve to symbolize all of us and our imperfections at birth, during our teenage years, in adulthood.

The small inner circles in all three illustrations symbolize the unknown She.

The larger circles symbolize the mother's womb.

The first illustration at the very top of this post is my favorite.  The semi-circle is most definitely a womb and the inner circles symbolize the layers of love stacking up on top of this little soul.  The small dot of pink at the innermost part of the circle symbolizes the baby, the soul, the she.

Today I'll package these up and ship them off to Annie to do with them as she pleases.  These illustrations kind of feel like my little children.  It's comforting to know that as I send them off and on their way they are going to a good home.

Social Media Overload

Recently, I decided to treat myself (and my family) to a subscription to the Sunday edition of the New York Times.  My first copy arrived yesterday.  Not to my doorstep, but to a small receptacle on my neighbor's property a few hundred yards down the road.  As corny as this may sound, the arrival of this iconic periodical made me feel like a full-fledged adult.  I have never subscribed to a newspaper.   I'm shamefully uninformed when it comes to politics and the stock market.  For the most part, I'm okay with that.

This simple act was actually my way of slowing down the clock in our household, making an intentional choice to read the printed word and to (hopefully) gain inspiration from the pages as I read, perused, clipped articles from and shared with my family.  Yesterday was the longest Sunday I can remember and it was glorious.

If I'm being honest, one of the triggers for me to subscribe to the paper was my recent evaluation of my usage of social media.  I'm on it.  A lot.

I recently spent a week in Portland with my family wherein I spent a few days in Powell's City of Books, thrice visited the main branch of the Portland Library, read two novels and picked up a copy of the Sunday New York Times.  I was immediately pulled in by all of the gorgeous fonts and typography.  The formatting and illustrations were beautiful.  I knew I wanted more.

In between all of that reading, I was constantly and incessantly checking my phone.  I'm totally embarrassed to write this, but it's true.  Instagram has become my social media crack addiction.  Facebook, too, to a lesser degree.

Taking pictures, posting and sharing a little blurb feels good to me.  I'm inspired daily by my friends and followers (that feels funny to type and read), but how much is enough?  Would I ever be satisfied by what I viewed or shared?  What was the value of all of this supposed connectedness?  Could I walk away from it?  I'm not so sure.

I'll tell you what doesn't feel good about the whole thing, my son saying "Mom, you're always on your phone."

Ouch.  That stung.

Conversations quickly turned around and my 11 year old son wanted to know if he could get an Instagram account.  My immediate answer was in the negative.  I didn't really even think about why, just no.  My husband thought we should discuss and give our son a reason.  I channeled my mother and father and thought it's no because I said so.  Oh, that didn't fly with my calm, level-headed, reasonable husband.

And so we debated the use of social media for our son and the pros and cons of same.  In doing this, I had to analyze my usage and what I was modeling for him.  The word hypocrite was spoken and hung in the air like an imaginary anvil ready to hit me in the head.

I am a social media hypocrite.

I had to let the weight of that settle in.

Now, I can justify it until I'm blue in the face.  The fact is - it's true.  I love the inspiration and sweet faces of my friends' children as they come across my phone screen.  I like receiving prompts to visit a new blog post written by someone I know.  I guess I'm a voyeur at heart.  I enjoy memoirs, real stories, real people and even if this is glimpsed in a seemingly impersonal way, through my phone screen, it still feels personal to me.

Two of my friends recently posted about their struggles here and here.  I've taken these words to heart and reexamined what social media means to me and how I can achieve a balance with it.

I think for me, I just need to step back and take a little break.  I'm an all or nothing kind of gal, but I want balance in this area.  I get a lot of good out of the friendships and relationships I've made through social media, as funny as that may sound to some, and I'm not ready to give them up completely.

For my first move towards a lighter social media infatuation, I decided to delete the Facebook app from my phone over breakfast.  I told Grady what I was doing and he told me I didn't have to.  I explained to him my reasoning and told him that I wanted to.  I told him I wanted to be more present and that looking at Facebook on my phone wasn't that big of a deal.

He told me that when he talks to me it seems like I'm not listening to him when I'm looking at my phone.  He said sometimes I don't even hear him.  Oh, my.

It's not only Grady that it is disconnecting me from, but it's my husband, too.  I go to bed with my phone under the guise that I check the time on it, but lately I'm on it before I go to sleep scrolling through pictures and catching up on the day of my fellow social media "friends".  I wake up in the morning and check the time and check up on what everyone was doing via Instagram and Facebook…while I slept!  Really?  Yes, really.

Instagram is a beautiful place to visit, but I'm going to try to put my phone away more often.  Just enjoy the day without needing to see what others are up to every 15 minutes.  I'm not going cold turkey, but I'm going to make a conscious effort to use it less and enjoy the beauty and solitude of my days here at home.  It won't be easy, but I don't think it will be that hard either.

So, for the foreseeable future, I will do my best to concentrate on putting my phone away and really being present for my guys and myself.  Grady is on a permanent hold when it comes to social media and I'm hoping this phase will pass or I'll be more prepared when the talk rolls around again.

Old habits are hard to break.

Wish me luck.  Or don't, if you need a break from commenting, posting, sharing, liking...