Welcome To The Sex O’clock News

Is it just me, or has the evening news just become too obscene to watch? I studied broadcasting in college, and I remember way back when there was a brouhaha roiling over the new standards to move TV shows with certain content (i.e. sex and violence) to after prime time, when the kiddies would be in bed. Not a bad idea, in my opinion. I write erotica, but I am going to be one of the first to tell you that there is a time and a place for everything, and young children do not need to watch shows that features stories about pedophiles and execution style murders.

Which is exactly what’s been on the news in the last few days.

I am so sickened by what happened at the Amish school in Pennsylvania. A man armed with three guns came into the school and took it hostage. He sent out the boys, the teachers and some pregnant women, then lined up the young girl students and shot them in the back of the head before killing himself. Five of those girls are dead. Why would anyone do such a thing? These were Amish children, for crying out loud! I doubt they’d ever hurt so much as a fly. So why, why, why did this lunatic have to kill them in cold blood?

The other story in the news that’s making me sick right now is the one on Congressional Representative Mark Foley. That’s right, the Congressional Rep for the state of Florida, a man who gets paid by your tax dollars, has been sending sexually explicit text messages to underage students working as pages on Capitol Hill. How disgusting is that? Makes what Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky did look pretty tame by comparison. Of course, the news is all over this too. They’re howling about how the Republicans may lose the House because of the disgust the public feels over this scandal. Forget the public’s disgust over the way the current Republican administration has conducted business in general during the last few years. We all know nobody’s been paying attention to stupid things like unemployment, education reform, jobs lost overseas, etc. We only care about gay marriage, flag burning, and all the sex and violence the news can cram down our throats.

Don’t get me wrong. These two stories should be in the news. There are horrible things happening in the world, and we need to know what’s going on. Being aware of the violence and crimes happening around us is the first step toward putting an end to such horrors. I want to know if an elected official is sexually harassing young children. I want to know that there are crazies out there, armed to the teeth and just waiting to barge into our local schools and start shooting. Forewarned is forearmed, people, and I can not defend against that which I don’t know about.

No, my problem is with the way the news handles these things. The evening news is going to beat these stories to death, probably do several specials on them, then hype them, package them, pimp them and whore them, all in the name of earning ratings. Just like they did with John Mark What’s-his-face, who claimed to have killed Jon Benet Ramsey. My poor husband was on a business trip in Colorado the week that story broke, and he was so sick of hearing about the story everywhere he turned, he wouldn’t even turn on the TV when he came home. Now he won’t turn it on for fear of what our kids might see. The girls are not allowed to watch the evening news. For the past two years, Michael’s been recording it on the downstairs computer and watching it after the kids are in bed. He used to do this because it was convenient, but now he’s doing it because he doesn’t want Cassandra to see the news. She’s smart, too smart, and I can guarantee you she’s pick up the word ‘pedophile’ in a heartbeat. Then, of course, we’d have to explain it to her, above and beyond the conversations we’ve already had about good touching and bad touching. I’m not sure I’m ready for any more conversations like that.

But that’s all that’s going to be on the news for the next several days, if not weeks. And that’s what kills me. Other issues, issues that are just as important, are going to get short shift in the media feeding frenzy. Remember how I said we can only deal with a problem if we know about it? Well, a lot of problems are going to go undealt with because the news is going to be too busy hyping Congressional pedophiles and Amish school shootings to pay attention to anything else. And that, folks, is a real crime, because that’s when the news stops being the news and becomes instead the worst, most pornographic form of entertainment know to mankind.

The Perfect End To A Lovely Day

I had a lovely day Wednesday. Wednesday is Cassie’s day at home with me, and a day I don’t have to be at karate, so I’ve decided to make it an all day play date of sorts, where I just focus on the kids. This past Wednesday I took Cassie and Sam to the YMCA. Poor Sam had to stay in the nursery, but Cassie got to go to the pool with me and swim for almost an hour. Afterwards, we went to Chic-Fil-A for lunch with Cassie’s little friends and then hit the local playground for another hour of frolic and fun. Cassie had a great time, and we only had one melt-down the entire afternoon. Sam just sort of went along for the ride most of the day, but she did get to lie on a picnic blanket with me at the playground, and she seemed to enjoy that.

After all the running around, we headed home, where Cassie and Sam both ended up taking a three hour nap. I used that time to work on some story ideas and do some drawing. I felt very productive and was in a great mood by the time both kids woke up and Michael came home.

For dinner that evening, Michael grilled steaks and corn on the cob (YUM!). Afterwards, I sat with Cassie and Sam and watched a Disney movie that didn’t involve a princess (yeah!). Cassie went to bed fairly easily, and Sam was down shortly after with very little fuss. As I put on my pajamas, I told my husband I had had the perfect day.

Then I went and broke my damn toe.

OUCH! OUCH OUCH OUCH!

See, what happened is this. I was all tucked in bed, snuggling with my husband, when I realized I had forgotten to do my physical therapy exercises for my knees. So I hopped out of bed. Sam’s bassinette is right next to my side of the bed, so I was being very careful not to trip over it as I walked toward a more open part of the room to stretch. I was so careful, in fact, that I failed to notice the iron bedpost on the other side of me and I slammed my left foot into it, thus breaking my little toe. The conversation between me and my husband in the twenty minutes following that event was rather interesting.

Me: *%&^#^$*!!! Oh &$%(^$&!

Michael: Sweetie? What happened?

Me: @#$@#%%^^#*&^!!! I broke my $%^*@#! toe!

Michael: Are you okay?

Me: No, *^%&@$#%! Do I sound okay? I broke my %^$&#$%#$% toe!

Michael: Do you want me to turn on the light and look at it?

Me: #$*%&$%#&!

Michael: Okay, do you want me to go get some ice then?

Me: %&$%*#@(^&%^$##%^!!!

Michael: Maybe you should lie on the bed and elevate your foot.

Me (collapsing on the bed and writhing in pain): *&^#$*&%^#$^!! I can’t believe I broke my *#&%#^*(@&^&# toe!!

And so on. Note that in my moment of distress, I naturally lapsed back into my native tongue – swearing.

So after a perfectly lovely day, I smashed up my little toe and now I’m hobbling around the house in constant pain. The toe in question is twice its normal size and very, very purple. I did go see a doctor, even though I didn’t want to, and listened to him as he explained that the only thing he could do is tape the mashed toe to the one next to it (which is something I already knew, and that was why I didn’t want to bother with going to see a doctor but my physical therapist insisted). I’m out of karate for the time being because I can barely walk. I can do my physical therapy stuff if I’m very careful not to knock my left foot around. And I can still take care of Sam. But most of the time I’m pretty much immobile with my foot elevated and packed in ice.

So there you go, a perfect example of the Cynical Woman truism. Just when you think everything is going great, something goes horribly, horribly wrong, and then Cynical Woman raises her ugly head and says…

Well, you know what she says.

***

Here’s the artwork from yesterday. My plan yesterday had been to continue working on drawing torsos and maybe start adding legs. Somehow I actually ended up completing one of the figures. I’m thrilled with the results. The pose is complicated, especially the angle of the head, yet I didn’t need to look at any reference guides to make it work. I was able to draw it straight from my mind with a bit of experimentation. Practice has definitely made all the difference in my artwork.

Preschool And Guilt

Sam is still congested, but doing better. She took two very long naps yesterday, so I managed to get some work done, even though I was completely fried after staying up with her all night.

Being fried isn’t the worst of my problems though. Cassie is headed off to preschool again today, and once more we are upping her hours there. I had initially envisioned sending my baby only three half-days a week, keeping her home with me the rest of the time. I figured three half-days would be plenty. She’d get a few hours to play with other kids and I’d get a short break where I could do a little work and spend time with just Sam.

No one could have predicted how much Cassie would love preschool.

The first time I tried to bring her home in the middle of the day, she went into hysterics. All the other kids were getting ready to lie down for their nap. Cassie wanted to lie down too. She kept sobbing and trying to crawl onto a mat and the teacher kept leading her back to a chair to wait for me. When I finally showed up, Cassie had snot running out of her nose and her face was all blotchy and swollen from crying. Her teachers had never seen anything like it.

Cassie cried all the way to the play date I had scheduled for the afternoon. She lighted up a little once we got there, but not much. So when we got home, I talked to Michael about extending her hours to two full days and one half day. Cassie could stay and take her nap on Mondays and Fridays and we could still do the play date on Wednesdays. The extra hours only cost us a few extra bucks.

The next Friday, Cassie stayed all day and was delighted. Same with Monday. Then Wednesday came along and once again I showed up at noon to find her sobbing wretchedly because she couldn’t lie down on a mat like the other kids and take a nap. It took me twenty minutes to calm her down, which really ate into her play date time. And then the play date only ended up lasting 45 minutes. Not long enough to justify the sturm und drang of Cassie’s crying jags.

So after debating it with Michael this past weekend, we are once again increasing the amount of time Cassie will spend at preschool. Now instead of two and a half days a week, she’ll spend four full days a week – Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. She doesn’t get upset about the days she doesn’t go, just the days she leaves early, so we’ll still make it to her Wednesday play date, but she won’t have to leave early any particular day to do that. I get extra work time and more time to focus on Sam, which is good. Four full days cost more than we had expected to pay, but if won’t break the bank. Yep, everything is copasetic.
Except that I feel guilty as hell about sending my darling child off to preschool so many days a week.

I felt the same way the first time Michael took Cassie for an entire day so I could have a day to myself. She wasn’t even a year old yet, and I felt absolutely sick watching Michael drive off with her while I stayed home. The thing is, I’ve been the primary care giver for Cassie ever since the day she was born. 24/7, I have been on call to feed, bathe, dress, entertain and teach Cassandra Jane. I hate the idea that someone else is now taking over those duties and spending more time with her than I do during the day. I hate it just about as much as I hate the fact that I can’t give her all my attention the way I used to before Sam came along. Just like I hate the fact that I haven’t been able to give Sam any of my undivided attention since the day we left the hospital because her sister tends to demand it all.

I know Cassie is happy at her preschool. I know she’s going to be just fine and that she’s just dying to go there every morning when she wakes up and she hates to leave every time I come get her. I know that sending her to preschool lets her interact with other kids her age, learn to do new things, and otherwise provides experiences I can’t give her right now. And I know that we still have Wednesdays, when I can easily devote myself to being her full-on mommy for an entire day, complete with trips to the library, the playground, and Chic-Fil-A.

But I can’t help wondering if maybe I’ve ditched my responsibilities to Cassie by sending her off to school for so many hours each week. I’m her mommy, damn it. I’m supposed to do everything for her for the rest of my life. Even if it isn’t possible, I’m at least supposed to try.

***

Here’s today’s artwork. Having a sick baby on my hands made it hard to sit down and draw. I almost didn’t do anything yesterday, but I sat down right before going to bed and knocked out this quick head sketch. It’s not perfect, but I think it’s still pretty good and it only took ten minutes. My goal is to be able to draw full figures just as well as heads by the end of the year.

Head sketch, 17 September 2006

Let’s Talk About Sex And Motherhood

Okay, so I’m not gonna shoot my husband.

Honestly, how could I shoot a man who would sit and listen to me rant and rave about my lousy day for almost an hour yesterday afternoon, then still cook me a nice dinner? And it was a really nice dinner too.

Yesterday was pretty bad, but it had its good points too. The best part was that Sam was asleep in her crib by 8:30 PM. I actually got to read for half an hour before going to bed early. Not that I got much sleep. My husband was feeling kind of frisky so I ended up staying up late last night anyway.

I’m in two different minds when it comes to sex and mommyhood. On the one hand, I feel like I just can’t be a mom and a sexual creature at the same time. Exhaustion simply kills my sex drive, and motherhood is nothing if not exhausting. I get six hours of sleep at most each night, and that sleep is frequently disrupted by late night feedings and preschoolers waking me up to announce there are monsters under the bed. During the day, I’ve got two kids hanging all over me. One is usually latched on and sucking the life out of me. The other is wrapped around my legs screaming for me to play with her. This leaves me with no time to relax or take care of myself, and if I can’t relax, I have a hard time sparking any interest in sex.

On the other hand, though, I miss feeling sexy and I miss having sex. Sex is a huge part of my identity. I write erotica and I create erotic art. My work revolves around creating arousal. My everyday life used to revolve around it too. I can remember a time when I would wake up in the middle of the night, not to nurse a baby, but to ravish my husband instead. Michael and I would spend entire weekends in bed, having non-stop sex and making enough noise to scare the neighbors. Back then, the only toys we had in the house were sex toys and my lingerie draw overflowed with Victoria’s Secret instead of nursing bras. Yep, those were good days.

So I’m thinking about sex right now, wondering if I can ever go back to the love life I used to have with my husband. People tell me no, it’s normal to watch your sex drive dry up and blow away when you’ve got kids. But part of me thinks that’s just bull crap. I can get my sexy groove back. I just have to figure out how.

I’ll talk about this some more tomorrow. Right now, I think I’m gonna catch some Z’s in the glider.

Here’s today’s artwork. This poor guy’s got a sex life about like my own, I think…

Figure drawing, 30 August 2006

Welcome Home, Daddy?

Well, Michael got home last night around 6:30 PM. You should have seen the welcome he got. There was a little confusion, you see. I wasn’t certain he was going to show up in time for dinner so I asked Megan, our babysitter, to come over for an hour just in case Michael was running late. She’s been over for an hour every other evening this week to play with Cassie and help take care of Sam, and that’s how I’ve managed to survive this whole fiasco.

Well I got a call from Michael telling me he was on his way home and expected to be pulling into the driveway around dinner time. So when Megan called I said all I really needed her to do was come over and get paid because Michael was almost home. Then Sam blew out her diaper and I had to go bathe her. While I was washing the poop off of Sam, Cassie came running in to tell me the door bell had rung. “That’s probably Megan,” I said, and that’s where the trouble started.

See, Megan is fifteen and probably Cassie’s most favorite person in the whole wide world. Megan gets down on the floor and plays dollies and Legos and Lincoln Logs and other stuff. Megan will take Cassie outside and run with her and play tag and hide ‘n seek. Megan is young and still has two good knees and she can more than keep up with my overly energetic three-year-old. So when Cassie heard that Megan was downstairs waiting, she took off, screaming, “Megan! Megan! Meeeeeeeeeeegan!” Unfortunately, by the time I had managed to wrap Sam up in a towel and get downstairs, there was nobody at the door. Cassie, of course, started to bawl.

Cassie: “Where’s Megan? I want Megan!”

Me (still holding Sam who is only wearing a bath towel and may erupt in poop again at any moment): “Honey, it’s okay. I’ll call Megan and ask her to come back. But she’s only coming to pick up her money, she’s not staying, okay?”

Cassie: “I want MEGAN!”

Me: “Oh look, sweetie! Look who just pulled into the driveway. It’s Daddy!”

Cassie: “MEGAN! MEEEEEEEEEGAN!”

Me, on the phone trying to get hold of Megan: “Hi Kathy? Is Megan there? Yeah, I was busy cleaning up the baby. Could she come back over real quick?”

Cassie: “MEEEEEEEGAN! MEEEEEEEGAN!”

At this point my husband has pulled his bags out of the car trunk and is headed up the sidewalk. He can see us in the bay windows and is giving me the hand signal for “What the hell is going on in there?”

Cassie: “MEEEEEEEEGAN! I WANT MEEEEEEEGAN!”

Me: “Um, Kathy? Could Megan stay and play a few minutes with Cassie? She’s a little upset that we missed Megan at the door.”

Michael, walking in the door: “Honey, I’m home! Where’s my big girl? Where’s Cassie?”

Cassie: “I WANT MEEEEEEEGAN!”

Fortunately, Megan showed up at that point and kindly agreed to play with Cassie for a little bit. While the two of them went into the living room to build the Taj Mahal out of Lincoln Logs, I raced upstairs with Sam, who had that peculiar look on her face that always means, “Mommy, I’m going to make a big poopie!” I got the diaper on her just in time.

Not exactly the warm homecoming that I’m sure Michael was expecting. But the house was still standing and everybody was still alive and Sam waited a whole hour before spitting up on him, so I think it went pretty well, all things considered.

Now that Michael is home, we’re back to our usual chaos. I was up all night again with Sam, and thus only managed to sneak in ten minutes of a conjugal “welcome back” before having to nurse again. Then this morning, we had everyone, and I mean everyone including the giant ballerina doll that my sister sent to Cassie, piled in our bed at 6 AM. Michael did manage to evict everyone for a little bit so I could grab a little shut eye, and then after breakfast he kept both kids occupied while I passed out on the couch. I can not believe it, but I slept there for two hours this morning, mouth open, snoring and drooling and everything. What a pretty picture I must have been. (Oh god, I hope nobody took any pictures). Anyway, Michael is finally home and life is finally back to normal.

Or at least, whatever passes for normal for us.

Here’s something I drew yesterday. You’re probably wondering what the heck it is. It’s a contour drawing of a badly torn up pinecone. No, I am not kidding, this is actually a torn up pinecone, not a mistake. This is an exercise from a drawing book I have. The purpose is to draw just the outline of an object, and then come back afterwards and fill in some of the detail, but again, outlines of details only. It’s a hand/eye coordination exercise. If you squint, it does sort of look like a pinecone that got mauled by a lawn mower. Trust me.

Mangled Pinecone, 25 August 2006

Surviving Michael’s Business Trip – Day 5, Reward Day

I had seriously meant to post artwork yesterday, but couldn’t manage to get back online again. Sam kept nursing every two hours and when I wasn’t holding her, Cassie demanded I get down on the floor and play. She’s been good all week, but two days of Sam being in my arms non-stop is really starting to irritate her. I can’t get her milk for her when I’m nursing Sam, I can’t play when I’m nursing Sam, I can’t read stories… Well, actually I can do all those things while nursing Sam, but it’s not easy and I prefer not to have to do them because I think past a certain point it’s just expecting a little too much of me to jump up and answer Cassie’s every whim when I’m trying to nurse her sister. Cassie has to learn to wait, that’s all. Either than or she has to figure out how to pour her milk herself.

Um, no. On second thought, I don’t want her to pour her own milk just yet. I can just imagine how that would turn out. More milk on the floor than in her sippy cup. Too messy.

Michael comes home today, sometime between 5:30 PM and 8:30 PM, depending on traffic and his connecting flight. I can’t wait. I was trying to decide this morning if I was going to blow off the whole routine again. When the alarm went off at 4:45 AM, I figured I’d go ahead and get up and just take things one step at a time until I reached the point where I was too tired to keep my eyes open any longer, then I’d crawl back into bed and sleep. So far this morning, I’ve pumped some breast milk and had a shower. I was going to head downstairs and draw for a bit, but while I was getting dressed, I looked over at Sam in her car seat and saw she was wide awake. Little twerp gave me the biggest gummy grin and waved her hands at me, as if to say, “Mommy, I’m ready for more booby juice now!” So she’s nursing again while I write this. Drawing will have to wait. I’m pretty sure by the time Sam is done, I’ll be ready to go back to sleep. Or else Cassie will be up insisting that I play with her and get her some milk.

But that’s okay, because today is Reward Day. In addition to my Blow Off Day rule, I also have a rule about Reward Day. Whenever I’ve gone above and beyond the call of Mommy Duty, I get to treat myself (using Michael’s credit card, of course). Going above and beyond the call of Mommy Duty usually includes things like finishing a major art or writing project without killing the kids or husband, deep cleaning any room in the house, suffering through a week of nasty temper tantrums, or surviving a growth spurt with Sam (like the one we’re going through now). Making it through the past week on my own with two kids and dealing with the growth spurt while continuing to get some work done definitely qualifies for a reward, as far as I’m concerned. A major reward. So I’ve planned today to revolve around the concept of doing something really nice for ME.

For starters, I’m going to make myself a very nice breakfast, probably eggs with toast and a pot of hot decaf coffee, preferable the fancy whole bean stuff I bought before Michael left, not the ground stuff that tastes like potting soil if I don’t add enough soy milk and sugar to it. Then once everyone is dressed, I’m taking us all to the Y, where I can leave the kids in the nursery for a whole 90 minutes while I swim some laps in the pool. I’m not even going to bother calling this exercise. I’m just going to glide peacefully back and forth for a bit until I feel like I’m done. Then I’m going to shower and dress up, grab the kids and go out to lunch. Preferably some place quiet where I can breastfeed the ever-hungry Sam while I linger over some nice finger food (because I can’t use a knife and fork while breastfeeding – really, I can’t). We will not be going to McDonald’s or Chic-Fil-A, I can tell you that. Afterwards, we’ll head over to Borders. This is the highlight of Reward Day, and a stroke of genius on my part. I discovered at the beginning of the week that I can go online and search the inventory of my local Borders, then submit a request via the web to have particular books pulled for me. That way, I can just walk into the store, pick up my books at the register, and take Cassie to the children’s area where she can play while I flip through my selections. This beats the pants off of me trying to hunt for what I want while Cassie pesters me to help her with the headphones in the store kiosks so she can listen to Wiggles music.

So what am I getting at Borders, you ask? What else? Books on drawing and erotica (recall what I do for a living). To be specific, I’m getting a book on dynamic figure drawing and some adult manga (Japanese comics for those of you who don’t know what manga is). After Cassie’s had a little time to run amok in the children’s section and I’ve had time to confirm which books I’m buying, we’ll finish off our trip with a stop at the café where I intend to get my own pastry and my own drink rather than split an item between Cassie and me, because on Reward Day I don’t have to share.

Yes, that is the plan. Sam seems to have fallen asleep now, so I’m going to put her back in her car seat and slink into bed myself. Hopefully, I’ll get this entry posted a little later today. My eyes are already starting to close and I don’t think I can stay awake long enough to post this right away. Besides, I’ve earned the extra sleep. It’s Reward Day.

And before I forget… Here is today’s art. It’s a work in progress. The drawing was done in pencil, but the painting is being done on the computer. I’ve still got plenty left to do on this one. It’s something that I’ve been working on while nursing Sam in the evenings.

Medusa – Work In Progress

Surviving Michael’s Business Trip – Day 4, Blow Off Day Continues

Oh, we are so blowing off today’s plans.

It’s 5:20 AM. Last night, I nursed Sam at midnight, 2 AM, and 4 AM. The alarm went off at 4:45. I was able to get a shower, but now it’s 5:20 AM and I’m back in the glider again nursing Sam, who keeps beating the crap out of my boobs because, guess what? My breasts are E-M-P-T-Y EMPTY!!

So all today’s plans are going out the window. It is once again, officially, Blow Off Day. As soon as Sam nurses herself back into a stupor, I plan to put her down and return to bed myself. Whenever Cassie wakes up, she can have whatever she wants for breakfast, up to and maybe even including M&M’s. I was planning on going to the dojo and take karate class today, but now I’m thinking we’ll hit the library instead. Mmmmm, the library. Such a nice quiet place. They have chairs in the library. I can check out a nice book on drawing and sit in one of those big comfy chairs. Yeah, sit and read… sit and read… sit and zzzzzzz…

I’ll post artwork later today. Maybe. Remember, it’s Blow Off Day.

Surviving Michael’s Business Trip – Day 3, Blow Off Day

Well, it was bound to happen. At least one day while Michael was gone, I knew we were going to end up blowing off my carefully planned routine.

The trouble started last night. Cassie went to sleep at 8:30 PM, and I thought I had Sam asleep at 9, but then the little pooper woke up twenty minutes later, doing the usual fussing and farting. Turns out she was hungry, in spite of having nursed an hour earlier. At 10 PM, Sam was still hungry, but my boobs were completely tapped out so I put her on her tummy in the bassinette to let her fuss it out for a while. She fell asleep after half an hour and I was able to transfer her to the car seat, but because she was up so late, I didn’t get to bed until 11:30 PM.

Of course, Sam woke up at 2 AM demanding to be fed again. And then she woke up at 4 AM… 6 AM… 8 AM… If you’ve ever breast fed a baby, you should be familiar with this pattern. It’s called a growth spurt, and let me tell you, an infant can suck down a lot of breast milk when they’re going through one of these things. I was supposed to get up at 4:45, but with only four and a half hours of uninterrupted sleep, it just wasn’t happening. Cassie crawled into bed with Sam and me around 6:30 and nearly smothered me in her attempt to cuddle. Sandwiched between both kids, I got no sleep at all from that point on, especially since Sam kept kicking me in the ribs and Cass kept digging her pointy little elbows into my spine. Family bed my ass. Kids need to sleep in their own beds so Mommy doesn’t chop off her hand the next morning by accidentally sticking it into the grinder while trying to make coffee. Yes, the sleep deprivation really is that bad.

The good news is I have a rule for days like today. If I’ve been up all night with the baby and haven’t had at least six good hours of sleep, I can declare the day to be Blow Off Day. Blow Off Day means I can toss the whole plan out the window if I want. The only things I have to do are feed the kids and make sure nobody kills themselves or burns down the house. Cassie can watch as much TV as she wants, eat popsicles all day, and run around in her PJs for all I care. I can spend the entire day sitting on the couch doing nothing but nurse Sam and contemplate my navel. Let the dirty dishes pile high and the cats puke all over the carpet. I don’t care because it’s Blow Off Day.

There are, of course, various degrees of Blow Off Day. Some days I blow off more than others. The worst case scenario was back in April when Michael and I both came down with this really nasty stomach flu. We spent all night passing each other as we ran to the bathroom to puke up our guts. I was so sick I couldn’t even take a sip of water without vomiting. My husband and I spent the next day passed out on the couches in our living room. Cassie sat on the floor between us, eating sherbet and popcorn and watching ten straight hours of The Wiggles. We were so sick, we didn’t care. To make matters worse, I was seven months pregnant with Sam at the time. I don’t ever want to be that sick again as long as I live.

But that’s the worst case scenario, as I said. Being sleep deprived and on my own with the kids isn’t quite that bad. So I only blew off the morning routine – wake up at 4:45, shower, dress, feed the cats and write for an hour. I decided to sleep in (as best I could, anyway, with two kids piled on top of me) and just pick up the daily routine at whatever point I got out of bed.

The beauty of this is, it didn’t matter if we got back into our routine or not. It was Blow Off Day, for crying out loud! But if I did get us back on track… well then, I would deserve a little reward for that, wouldn’t I? Say, an all expenses paid trip to the bookstore, courtesy of my loving hubby’s credit card? Ka-ching!

So in spite of a rough night and a late start, I did work to get my act together. We got out the door by 10, hit the YMCA for a bit of exercise, and then met with some other moms and kids for our weekly play date at a nearby park. Both kids went down for their naps at the proscribed hour. I made up the hour of writing I had skipped in the morning and was able to follow that with an hour of sketching after Cassie woke up by convincing my darling daughter that she really did want to draw with some of Mommy’s special pencils. Dinner was on the table by 6 PM, bath time was at 7:30, and Cass was in bed by 8:30. Sam is still in my lap right now, fussing and nursing. She feels a little warm, so I’m wondering if she’s coming down with something. She doesn’t have a fever yet, but if she gets one and we’re up all night again, it’s okay.

Tomorrow can be Blow Off Day too.

Here’s today’s artwork. This is actually something I finished last week. It’s from my “Waiting Room” sketch book, the little sketch book I keep in my purse that I doodle in whenever I’m waiting for an appointment. These sketches take a while to complete, but the results are always… interesting.


Motherhood, 18 Aug 2006

Surviving Michael’s Business Trip – Day 2

Being the only parent at home to take care of two kids doesn’t leave me with a lot of free time. I managed to get maybe 45 minutes of writing done yesterday and stole half an hour for drawing after Cassie and Sam went to sleep. The good news is, both kids seem content to go to bed around 9 PM. The bad news is, when I don’t get work done, I become a basket case.

However, I’ll survive. To help make the week a little easier, I picked up some bribes, er, toys for Cassie yesterday. I bought her a scooter and a set of Lincoln Logs. I was going to get her a tricycle, but when she saw this little pink scooter, she refused to look at anything else. It’s actually a nice little scooter too, except for the fact that it’s decorated with Baby Bratz toddler whores. Could someone please explain to me why toy makers think it’s okay to make toys for three-year-olds that encourage them to look like prostitutes? Have you seen the Baby Bratz? Jeeze, I thought the regular Bratz were bad enough.

Anyway, Cassie has her scooter and we’re taking it for a spin this morning. In the afternoon, she’ll get to play with her Lincoln Logs. While Lincoln Logs don’t encourage kids to look like whores, they are a lot of fun to play with. Even Cassie agrees with that.

I did manage to finish one bit of work, in spite of the lack of time I have. I’ve been working on this sketch since February. It’s colored pencil and ink. Not perfect, but pretty to look at.

Mermaid – 21 August 2006

Surviving Michael’s Business Trip – Day 1

Michael left yesterday for a conference in Keystone, Colorado. That leaves me home alone with a 3-month-old and a 3-year-old, a rather challenging situation to say the least.

So far, however, things haven’t been too bad. Cassie and I have had the minimal amount of arguing. It does get a little annoying when she stamps her feet and demands to have something “right now!” For some reason, she thinks that if she shouts loud enough and stamps hard enough, I’m going to magically drop everything and cater to her needs. I’ve let her know that she’s going to have to learn to wait, and to say please, otherwise she’s going to do without.

Anyway, yesterday was uneventful. Today we’re going to the YMCA and then to the toy store. I told Cassie we were going to get a surprise, so naturally she keeps demanding to know what we’re getting. I’m not telling her though, because if I can’t find what I want, I’ll never hear the end of it from her. “But moooooooommmmmmmmmyyyyyyyy! You promised me a triiiiiiiiiiiiiicycle!”

Nothing else going on here, folks, except for yesterday’s drawing. Enjoy.


Manga Academy Assignment #1