Category Archives: art

5 Reasons I AM NOT Writing Today (Grammar Police, Get Your Red Pens Out)


1. Between the political conventions, the new blogs I’ve been reading, the cleaning, and the rain, we haven’t been anywhere or done anything worth writing about. I know! We need to get out more so strange things can happen.

2. I am waiting for my cousin to finish building my art website and to turn it on, or whatever it is Internet people do to make pictures and words show up instead of error messages. I am using up all of my energy by trying to be patient. It’s not working out so well. My cousin works full-time and has a new baby at home. I’m lucky he is helping me at all. Seriously though? I am obsessed about this website. I can’t think of anything else. What if it doesn’t work? What if it does? What if I don’t have enough art to put on it? What if I have too much? What if fewer people go to my new art website than go to my old family blog (this one) (Is that even possible?!!!).

Batman: A more concrete career choice in comparison to the mother, writer, painter path I have chosen for myself.

3. I might be writing too often anyway. Or, maybe I am writing too little. Or maybe I am just writing about boring topics or about politics too much, or maybe not enough. Maybe I need to learn more about SEO or I need to post a funny picture with a cat or a dog on it to my Facebook fan page every thirty seconds. Maybe I need more pictures or maybe I need less. I don’t know how to attract readers to my blog. Why am I so worried about that? Why am I not worried more? What am I writing about anyway? Why should people even care? How can people not care? My life is fascinating, sort of and on occasion. I’m funny, sometimes, except for when I’m not, which might be more often than I think. I can’t decide.

I may have to start breathing deeply into a paper bag.

Starting new things makes me feel like this. I’m laughing so hard I can’t breath and then I’m a little scared because I can’t breath.

4. I’m grumpy and tired. It rains every single day. I’ve hit some kind of writing block or writing wall. I only wish I’d “hit the wall” by running instead, but we can’t seem to get outside. It’s raining. It rains every. single. day. Sorry, I had to mention that twice for emphasis. Rain, dark clouds, more rain…it gets a little depressing after a while.

5. I’d rather sip coffee and watch my daughter fight with the dog over a plastic zebra toy. It’s pretty hilarious. I’m not sure if this is a sign of my cultural bankruptedness or if my brain is running in circles and this sort of mindless activity is like a reset button. Either way, that’s probably how I’ll be spending a good portion of my day today. 90% of my time will involve finding the plastic zebra because it ALWAYS gets lost. Let’s all hope it doesn’t get a leg chewed off…again.

It seems like every recent picture I have of Tiny-Small is blurry. She never stops moving. She even wants to drive. It’s scary.

All I know is, I’m not writing today. I don’t mean to be difficult, but it just feels impossible. Also, the coffee is calling my name.


Jim Turns Cookie Monster Into A Serial Killer

I was in the shower, washing my hair, when I looked down and was shocked to see this guy looking back at me:


That’s when I asked Jim who he had drawn on the bathtub wall and more importantly, why? He claimed he drew Cookie Monster from Sesame Street so that Tiny-Small could color him. She had already colored Elmo. Our conversation went something like this:

Jim: That’s Cookie Monster.

Me: What? How?

Jim: He’s blue. He’s holding cookies (that’s what is in his hands).

Me: That’s not Cookie Monster.

Jim: Yes, it is Cookie Monster.


Me: But, Cookie Monster has eyes on the top of his head like Elmo does. See, that’s how you drew Elmo. Twice.


Jim: Well, I’m not an artist like you are.

Me: He looks kind of creepy.

Jim: I know. He could be a pedophile.


Me: Or a serial killer.

Jim: Tiny-Small thinks it looks like Cookie Monster.

Me: She has a lot to learn about monsters.

Jim: She’s 2. I’m not an artist. That’s what she gets.

Me: Who is this?


Jim: That’s Popsicle Monster. He’s a new addition to Sesame Street, at least the Sesame Street on our bathtub wall.



Me: I’m scared for our child.

Jim: Me too.

Tiny-Small Writes On The Wall

This is a list. A list of things Tiny-Small LOVES to write on:

1. The Floor
2. Her Foot
3. Her Mouth
4. Her Belly
5. The Wall
6. The Electric Bill
7. Her Elmo Tent
8. The Coffee Table

This is a list of all of the things Tiny-Small refuses to write on:

1. Her Coloring Book
2. A Notebook
3. Anything her mother deems acceptable to write upon.

My Mother-In-Law says that Jim never wrote on anything he wasn’t supposed to when he was a child. So, I guess Tiny-Small got the scribbling gene from me. Or, maybe it’s just what I have been modeling for her…and accidentally teaching her over the past two years:

I draw on the wall.

And, sometimes I let Tiny-Small draw on the wall.

Which must be a little confusing.

Especially, when she is also allowed to draw on the bath tub wall.

This kid doesn’t have a chance when it comes to drawing on the wall. I’ve encouraged it in every way imaginable so I shouldn’t have been shocked to discover her standing at the wall with her pen poised contemplating her first illegal scribble. I scared her when I suddenly said very loudly and right behind her, “We don’t write on the walls.” She jumped clear out of her skin and looked at me with astonishment in her eyes and I can’t really blame her. The rule must seem preposterous.

The worst part? I’ve been known to scribble all over the electric bill too.

I have a feeling we are going to have colorful walls and secret love notes stashed in hidden locations (along with the phone and gas bill). I am just going to have to be more careful about what I am teaching her and make sure she understands the rules. Right after I make sure I do.

P.S. I guest posted today at Family Mobile Apps: If you want to check it out. It’s about a certain toddler, living in my house, that loves using technology.