Drawing On Furniture

Yesterday, I walked into the family room and screamed in horror.  Truly I did, because the white ottoman that accompanies our cool white big chair had been covered in purple and orange magic marker.

Purple and Orange Permanent Sharpie markers.

My scream was loud, unexpected and straight from deep in my soul.  It was my worst-nightmare-come true-kind of scream.

My 2 year old, sitting in front of his creation in the big chair, after 6 seconds of staring at his screaming mother who was staring at the marked up ottoman, face stretched in horror, screamed himself then cried.

He saw my horror.  Heard my scream and understood.  Coloring the furniture with markers - a HUGE, HUGE "no-no".

Not a lesson I was teaching on purpose because I was too wrapped up in my defaced white ottoman.

After my 30 second scream, I was reduced to a cough, a slight gag, and then nothing.

In shock, I had no words.  None.  Posted this fact to Facebook even.  I was rendered speechless.

"No, no writing on the furniture, Owen," was all I could choke out as I wrenched off the ottoman cover.  And then I was silent, speechless as I thought of my ottoman cover destroyed and my new mission to get in the wash as soon as possible in hopes of saving it and getting it back to it's beautiful whiteness.


My lesson.

You'd think it was not to have white furniture in a house of boys under 8 - as a few of my FB friends were quick to point out was the flaw.

No.  That wasn't it.  Even though it's a pretty logical foregone conclusion.

No, my lesson:

To never stop looking at things from a child's perspective.

How true.

Instead of looking at that marked on ottoman cover that was a part of my cool looking furniture as destroyed, I could look at it as a creative piece of art that came from my 2 year old's imagination.

At the end of the day, thanks to several more of my FB friends who saw the brighter, creative side of things as well as the kid perspective of things - I caught that vision.

 That perspective.



That ottoman cover, in my mind, is now a work of art.  I am so glad that the marker didn't wash off.  The 2 year old's creation, though a little faded, is still preserved.

And honestly, the white fabric ottoman cover made for a great canvas.

So that white fabric ottoman cover becomes a cool "art" pillow (stuffed with giant pillows) that my 2 year old can keep for years to come and possibly Mama will hang it on his college dorm room wall - as one friend suggested.  Hee. :-))

It also becomes a reminder of my 2 year old's childhood days that are going by ever so swiftly.  He starts preschool in August - yikes!

And most importantly the white fabric ottoman cover becomes a cool reminder to me to remember to never stop looking at the world through kid-colored sunglasses - to never lose that perspective, ever.

It's a creative, fun, imagination-filled, colorful, daring-drenched perspective of the world.

One that is too precious to lose.

And we lose it often as adults.


A very cool, precious lesson, that I aim to never to forget.


Parents, what lessons have you learned from your kiddos' "no-no's"?

Matters of Mean

I get irked.  

We all have pet peeves.  

One of mine is witnessing one kid being deliberately mean to another kid. 

Most times I see this happen when there are three kiddos, and the first kid wants the second kid all to himself and decides to be mean to the third kid who is friends with the second.  

Yes, my two older sons each have been that third kid at times. 

It hurts my heart to see that happen.  

More importantly, it hurts the kid who is the target. 

Meanness for meanness sake. 

If the meanness stems from a kid feeling grumpy, tired, sick, hungry or from having their feelings hurt by others, I understand it. 

It's still not good in my eyes but it makes sense: when we're not feeling good, we tend get irritable, snappish, mean.  We're not nice. 

I still talk to my kiddos about how even in these circumstances being mean to others is not acceptable. 



It's when the kid is feeling fine and he/she decides to be mean to another kid that gets me. 

Because the kid that gets it doesn't deserve it.

It's not fair to him/her.  

Because I feel that meanness comes from a place that is deliberate. 

That means to hurt on purpose. 


In my mind, why would you hurt someone's feelings on purpose? 

That's just cruel. 


However, I am aware that in our human natures, as there is a need to be helpful, to do something good for someone, also, in moments,  there is a need to be spiteful. 

But it still shouldn't be acceptable. 


I see some parents overlook this behavior,  not addressing it, letting it go.  

Oh it's just natural...it happens, is their reasoning. 

It may happen but it doesn't deserve to be overlooked.  

Meanness in any form whether it's coming from a 4 year old or a 40 year old shouldn't be overlooked. 



So maybe I'm looking through Pollyanna-tinted glasses or just from a logical, practical point of view (I'd like to think it's the second, though the first is not bad either): 

Treat others well.  Respect others always. 

I believe that meanness unchecked can grow into something pretty big and ugly.  

We have all witnessed the ugly in this world.  

Do we really need anymore?


Kids being mean for the sake of being mean.  Have you or your kiddos experienced it?  How do you handle those moments?

Linking up with Shell this week from Things I Can't Say and pouring my heart out...

I Want Alone

I confess.  

But before I do, I need to state for the record that I love and adore my sweet husband and my three beautiful boys and would not change being with them for all the world.  Honestly, I couldn't live without them and my heart would break if I had to.  Losing them - I can't even go there in my thoughts  because it's that tragic and unfathomable to me. 

That being said...my confession, and it truly is a guilty one because I feel tons of guilt whenever I admit to it,  is...

...this mother likes to be alone.

Away.  

Away from the constant demanding (by kiddos) and asking of things (by all).  

There are three boys and the world revolves around each of them.

Sometimes they talk to me like they are the only person in my world.  Each one talks, oblivious of the other two boys who are also talking to me at the same time.  It can be too much at times, not to mention hard on the ears and draining on the patience. 


Maybe it's because I grew up an only child.  It was just me and my Mom for the longest time.  

I'm not use to active, constant running feet, constant interruptions or constant clamoring noise.  

People pulling on me or taking up my space - though I did do that to my mother.  Often.  

Sorry Mom.



So my solution - whether consciously or subconsciously is to go into my bedroom and get on my computer or immerse myself in a novel.

My escape.

On the weekends, this where my husband finds me.

"Come join the family," he'll state, a longing look on his face.

You see he works five days a week and is away from his family most of those days.  He doesn't really get to be with us as a whole except for the early mornings.  And that's usually for about twenty minutes before the boys head off to the school bus.

Or in the evening for about two hours - most of the time in which he is dog-tired and semi-conscious after a long, busy day at work.   So the weekends for him are cherished family time. 

But I'm done by the weekend.  Stick a fork in me.  I'm a mole and I don't want to come out of my hole. 

And sometimes I don't, leaving him to handle the kids.

Guilt riddles me when this happens but I don't move. 

I reassure him repeatedly that I will come out but sometimes I procrastinate and don't come out right away.  It takes up to an hour at times.  Two hours.

Don't get me wrong,  I love my family.  I like being with people.  I like socializing.  

I just find I need down time during the hours when I’m actually alert.  Down time after the kids go to bed doesn’t count because my brain is fried and I'm barely conscious. 

Yes, even in my sleep, sometimes, I just want to be alone, much to the chagrin of my affectionate, snuggly husband.  

But I cherish being alone and I'm finding that I want 'alone' more and more these days.  

Maybe it’s my way to get a grip on the wonderful intense craziness that is my life right now taking care of other human beings for 18 to 20 hours a day - thinking for them, planning for them, etc. 

People tell me I'm going to miss all this one day.  

I'm sure I will, knowing me.  

However, right now, 

this mother, this nurturer,  

in moments, 

lots of moments,

just yearns to be alone more than anything else in the world. 

Linking up with Shell this week from Things I Can't Say and pouring my heart out...

Cherish

Cherish.

This is my one word for 2013.

Cherish the day.

Cherish the moment.

Cherish the time with my husband.

Cherish the time with my kids.

Cherish the time with my darling cat, Chelsea.  She's getting up there in age.

And not just the times.

The people in my life.  My family.  My friends.  My neighbors.

And the places.  Where I live.  Boulder.

Those that I'll visit this year.  New York.  California. Chicago.  Possibly New Orleans.



Time flies and it seems to go by faster every day.  There can be some long days but some short years and I feel like last year was one of those short years.

Moving constantly, not stopping to see what's around me, soak in what's before me.  My biggest fault last year.



Last year flew and I could barely keep up, much less remember.

I am grateful for my photography where I am able to capture the moments of our lives.  Those moments helped me remember.

But I want more than that.  I just don't want to look back on some past photo.  I want to remember the moments because I was in the moment -- soaking it all in -- entrenched, surrounded.  Because my full focus - 100% was in it.  The photo can be a reminder but the memory will come from being completely in the moment.

In a world where time moves at lightning speed and where we are never promised tomorrow (my thoughts are on those families of the victims of the Connecticut school shooting).

That's my vow this year.

Cherish.

Fully cherish the moments, the times.

I will not allow myself to get too busy to soak it all in.

What a great way to jumpstart my New Year in blogging.

 I have to thank Nicole from Sisters from Another Mister for helping me jump back into it.  It's been hard lately to get started again ...and somehow, Nicole knew just the right way to help me begin again.  All it took was for me to start with one word.

So stop by and feel free to share your one word or just read others.