Reflections

There comes a time in ones life, sometime several times, where you realize you have spent so much time focusing on others, that you forget to care for yourself. In that respect, this blog and myself are the same. I have been so busy catering to my husbands work schedule, working on school work, raising my son, and creating little creatures to sell at our local market, that I haven't spent any time figuring out the things I need. As a person, as an artist, and as a mother, I've failed to supply myself with the things I need. I have to schedule showers 3-4 days in advance, and sometimes don't make that appointment.

I have decided that it's time I figure out something for me.

I vow to work on the things that I need sometimes. And let the word NO re-enter my vocabulary.

I vow to try to brush things off my shoulder when they hurt, and to always bounce back.

I vow to write more, and to draw more, and to create more that is NOT related to my work.

I vow to shower when the baby naps, instead of waiting for hubby to wake up from his graveyard shift.

I vow to post here more, and facebook less.

I vow to find constructive ways to vent my daily frustrations, instead of bottling it up until it causes a migraine (Like Sunday)

I vow to play more with the baby and the dog.

I vow to take time out of each day to clean, OR run dishes/laundry, and not try to take it all on every day.

I vow to accept that I am not SUPER WOMAN, and I can not do it all.

I vow to be a better friend to myself.

I vow to uphold these goals to the best of my ability, if it means making a reminder on my phone for each one!

 

Twinkle Twinkle...

It's been a while, and I always say that... but it's been a chaotic flu season. I was sick, then Hubby was sick, the little man was sick... then I was sick again. I have missed 3 weeks of school, and have been struggling to catch up on homework, and on my work load.

As for keeping my sanity in this chaos, I've started playing with drawings, and since I suck at drawing actual items, I've been doing artistic lettering for phrases. I'm hoping to do some mixed media with basic nursery rhymes and songs.

Here is a sketch I did as a rough draft for a project. I am going to paint a canvas in black or dark blue, splatter it with glitter paint for stars, and write the words in metallic marker. I will do some origami stars out of brightly colored papers, and pop dot them to the canvas. I'll paint the moon in gold and yellow, partially glittered.

What do you think?

 

peacock blues

peacock blues by echo-mayernik featuring anuschka handbags

Grey-Turquoise Romance

Grey-Turquoise Romance by echo-mayernik featuring zip bags

Tragedy - Sandy Hook Elementary

It shouldn't take a tragedy like this to open our eyes. It shouldn't take a tragedy like this to make us think about the safety of our children. 

Tonight, and every night, hug your children, tell them how much you love them.

Tonight, remember, and pray for those who have passed, and those effected by their passing. The families and friends of those who were killed will never be able to move on from this, they will always be missing someone.

These children were just beginning their lives, they had never done anything to deserve this untimely end. Pray for them. Whatever faith you believe in, pray.

Tonight, people will be missing their sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, best friends...Tonight, people will be shedding tears for those they knew and those they didn't. Tonight, I cry for lost lives, so young, so innocent. Tonight, I hug my son, and I beg that he stays safe!

   

3 months - Halloween

Mommy's little cranky dinosaur!

Two months

And what a two months its been!

1 month!

What a strange adventure!

Letters to a Boy

When I was little, my mom would leave me notes, around the house, in my school bag, in the car, where ever I'd likely be. It was sweet, it helped me learn to read. It was also time consuming, and most of the notes were repetative, and fairly simple... "have a good day", "goodluck on your times tables", "be nice to that boy you made fun of", etc. I always wanted to know how she felt, not the dumbed down sugar coated "your a kid" version. Perhaps I was too young then, but I still wonder about it today.

I have decided to write letters to my son. I will keep them in a book, and give them to him on his 18th, or perhaps 21st birthday. One letter for every week in the first month. They grow so fast! And then one letter each month for the first year, and one letter each birthday. I hope to chronicle milestones, achievements, quirky behavior, and general thoughts and love.

I was adopted, and my biological mother has had nothing to do with my life between 6 months (when she gave me up/got me taken away) until my 18th birthday. Since then, we have emailed a few times, but we have not gotten close. I can not yet forgive her for the things she did, the priorities she chose. I was told that she has kept a journal, with letters and cards for me, for every birthday, and Christmas she missed with me. I don't know if I want to see it, or if I'd rather be angry just a bit longer. Either way, I let her know that my son was born, and I have started my own journal. I hope I can keep it going and write in it every chance I get. (or at least keep up to date on it).

I am going to build it like a scrapbook, with a photo for each milestone marked. And place the physical letter in a decorative envelope on it's own page. I can only hope that it will turn out as wonderful as I am imagining it.

What have you done to chronicle your children's milestones?
 

A birth story!

Making breakfast in the late morning on Aug 2, I felt a little odd. A bit wetter downt here than usual, so I called my OB. Her nurse asked me to go to the Family Birth Center to get checked. Once hubby got home (he left work early) he drove us to the hospital. My OB was on call that day, so I was in luck (the OB on call after her shift was one I very much do not like!)

After a few hours of tests, and waiting, they decided to get an ultrasound to check my amniotic fluid levels. In this process, they discovered that my fluid was low, and that more than likely, I had been leaking slowly for several days. They decided to induce me, to prevent infection. They started on a very slow pitocin drip (I had hoped to stay as natural as I could, but I guess we have to roll with the punches). They diluted with saline to keep my hydrated, and I waited. Each hour progressed and the contractions got stronger, and more intense. They weren't painful until much later.

Family visited, and friends stopped by. I wasn't short on company. To some extent, I am glad I had so many visitors, but on the other hand, I regret not getting some sleep while I still could.

At 16 hours of labor, the contractions went from "hold my hand, this is really uncomfortable" to "The next one will be an adoption!"

By 18 hours, it became "Why the HELL didn't I get an epidural!?!?" (yep, pitocin, without pain meds)

At 18 hours and 30 min, I received a small dose of Fentenol (spelling?) which took the edge off the pain, so I could at least remember to breath. 

At 19 hours, I was  unable to string sentences together, I was catching minute long moments of rest where the world faded from memory, and I was just in empty space, always pulled back by the slow build and crash of the next contraction. Waves that took me under and past my limits. They gave me another small dose of Fentenol. 

At 20 hours, I told my nurse it was time to push, I told her I would not wait because I could not wait. She asked me to wait.

She called another nurse to help set up the room, and by the next contraction, was calling the OB to come in, "she is a VERY efficient pusher" she had said.

Hubby was helping me to focus through the pushes, but when our son slid out screaming and fighting and covered in blood, he nearly fainted. He took a few moments to compose himself as they cut the cord and cleaned Connor up. 

There were tears in his eyes, though, he will deny it.

 20 hours almost to the minute after I noticed my broken water and felt the first contractions, I held my little boy in my arms.