This morning I woke up between 3-4-5 AM, as my son cried from his room and or climbed into bed with us multiple times. At night he clings to his daddy. In fact, Mason handles most of his night waking. He would much rather snuggle against his dad and be encircled within his strong arms, than over with mommy who has stinky breathe and too many pillows.
He cried out when his dad wanted to turn to his other side, “Turn over! Turn over!” and then double donkey kicked dad in the back when he didn’t hop to it. I grabbed him quickly over to me “Don’t kick your daddy! That’s not ok!” And the tears came rushing out…”It’s ok honey, but daddy is trying to sleep and you don’t kick or hit. It’s night night time.” Slowly he calms down…eventually finding his way back into the crook of daddy’s arm.
It may have been an hour, it may have been seconds but there goes my alarm. Waking our son just enough “What? What?” “Shhh night night time!” It’s 5:30 AM, my new normal. I get up, take a shower, get dressed, go downstairs. I make the house coffee, chocolate milk, breakfast bagels and kitty cat breakfast. I sneak in dishes and laundry in the middle of coffee brewing and bagel toasting. I carry it all upstairs into the dark and wake my sleeping family.
I love taking care of my family. I love making my husband coffee, keeping the kitchen clean and the clothes washed. I love helping get my son dressed for daycare. It’s every day and part of me. I insist on telling them I love them and getting family hugs as they head out the door. If it’s a rough morning and we are all grouching and arguments have arisen, I still do these things and I still insist on good-bye hugs and love you’s.
I take care of my family. I wash the sheets, fold the underwear, find the socks. I put everyone’s shoes back and organize the bathroom counter. I make the beds and clean up side tables.
Then my day really starts! I go to work, have meetings and emails and projects due. I take breaks to check my art page and respond to comments. I move laundry over. I let the dogs out. I fold the clothes.
Some might look on from the outside and see my son clinging to his dad and not me as a sign of something. Or maybe I post too much art or too many videos to honestly be working very hard…How could she be working and posting on Facebook?
I have a very detailed and time managed life. I wake up and do 20 things before most people roll out of bed. I schedule all of my posts ahead of time, recording my work and daily activity to be posted several days in advance. I keep a calendar and record videos and pictures to post throughout the week.
I save a couple hours in the afternoons to take time to draw and paint. (I start work at 6am just so I can fit this in before picking my son up from daycare)
Some would say I should be focusing on my family. But if you knew me, if you saw me behind closed doors you would know that I play on the floor with my son in the afternoons. We snuggle and I let him pick the tv shows. I make him snacks. We visit the library and the park. We like to paint together. I chase him and he chases me. We hug and say “I love you!” We tickle and run and jump and climb.
think know that it’s important for me to take care of myself. And in taking care of myself, I rarely get my hair done or nails done, I rarely shop or meet friends. Instead I draw and paint and read and post. I make time for myself and I make time for my family. My husband once said to me “I think you would go crazy with out art.” And I know that he’s right.
I have to have this time to be me. I have to make art. I would plummet into depression without it there. It is something I have done since I was a baby that I couldn’t imagine living without it. It’s not an option or a hobby for me, it’s so much more. So ingrained.
I care and I give a lot. My art is the fuel for that.