work/life

I almost didn't make it back to blog and I bet you didn't have an inkling of a clue that I was even in peril.  

Here's what happened:  We took all three kids to Disneyland for two, count them, two days.  I'm not a huge fan of crowds. Especially fun park crowds. Where do these people live in everyday life?  I've never seen exposed flesh in such vast quantities on my trips to the grocery store. Hell, I don't see it at our community pool.  Call me a prude, but please, people. If you have large gigglies, let's keep them contained. Just sayin'.

Anyway. It was pretty harry carry. No pun intended.  There was a fair amount of whining and screaming.  Some from me, most from the kids.  The Sugar Daddy just walked around and looked like the sexy hot dad he is that is willing to schelp his kids around the ant hill known as "Disney".

But the memories! We are building memories right? Well, the kids can sort that out with their therapists later.

Anywho. 

Work Life. Yes. That's what this post is supposed to be about. My art in Work Life.  Uppercase published this book which is chalk full of amazing artists.

And then there's me.  I feel like such a poser next to so many of the other people in the book.  

Thom flipped through the book then he looked at me and said, "Mom, you're so good. You're like the best."

And this is how we ended up at Disneyland. See how that works?

Here's the piece I did for the book.

And here's a look at the entire book.

You can purchase the book here if you are so inclined.

I'm off to get caught up on the laundry and spend the entire day trying to get "It's a Small World" and some awful mental pictures of Disneyland people out of my head,

the perfect storm

In my former life I read books. 

I read book after book, practically inhaling each page. Over time the stories have come together, sometimes overlapping, pieced together in my memory to form a haphazard version of a literary quilt. 

Looking back, I can see that there was a franticness about the way I read. As if I subconsciously knew what was to come.

What came were babies.  Two babies. Ten months apart.  A virtual whirlwind of diapers and formula and onesies and bottles.  This storm I live in is beautiful. Somedays I marvel at it's magnitude. Somedays I cower. 

I find, lately,  that my literary quilt is getting holes.  Parts of stories are gone. Names of characters and dates and places are eroding.

I think it is time to patch things up. I think I will pick up a book.

I should have done it sooner. The best way to weather a storm is with a good book and a comfy quilt.

the perfect gift

One of my most favorite gifts Amelie has received are these little book plates from her Aunt Julie. Aren't they the sweetest?

I worked in children's books for a few years before we had Thomas. Needless to say, most of my paychecks went back to the store. I have a collection of hundreds of children's picture books. I can't even begin to tell you how happy it makes me to finally have children to read them.

Julie got Amelie's book plates from a store on Etsy called Oiseaux.

Here's some more of my favorite designs available.

Julie is the queen of thoughtful, original gifts, a talent I dearly wish I possessed. I am usually left stumped and befuddled when I shop for others. Is it better to give than recieve? Not when Julie's buyin'.