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.
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,