Peanut Butter and Jelly dipped in Lemonade

Jack and Fiona dip the crusts of their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in their lemonade. “Mommy you try it” says Jack. “No, I don’t want to dip my peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my lemonade” I say. Then I think, I should try it, if Jack and Fiona think it’s so good. I dip it in, feeling lucky I have the opportunity to try peanut butter and jelly sandwich dipped in lemonade. “It’s good!” I say. We’ve had a nice day, no school today, just us three; we begin the day downstairs in the studio and garage. Jack got covered in black ink, got poop on the garage toilet seat and the sink covered in black ink, Fiona did good with her painting. I gave them wood, white chalk, files, rulers, and clamps to investigate. I painted on my large canvases and worked in my notebooks, traversing between motherhood and artisthood. My two lives meshing together.

Leaving all domestic duties; laundry, cleaning, picking up, controlling the mess, I only did the most important so far: diaper changes, food prep, cleaning the poop off surfaces and butts, focusing on creativity and personal growth, inspiring Jack and Fiona to explore, giving them freedom. It was nice. We had a great day. I put Jack and Fiona down for their nap: I did a short exercise, only twenty minutes since I’ve been sick. I walk down and smell more poop. They aren’t asleep yet; the thoughts start circling around my mind, but I keep everything calm. I change diapers, give them a few toys and say I am taking a shower, you are taking your nap. It worked.

I go into my studio, not intending on working. The babies are asleep; the house is a disaster. I should go up and clean. I decide to work for an hour. I pull out my notebooks, open them up and lay them out.  Grab: paints, containers, brushes, palette knives, rags, charcoal, graphite. I work fast, subdued washes, some lines, some print techniques. I work on my canvases again, I’m overthinking. No fun. I accept this and fight for the opportunity to do so. Destroying and covering. Reworking. I think I like it. I’m glad I came in and worked. It’s important to work when I feel the urge and I have the energy. I’ll do the housework later. Which is Now.

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About Dirty Laundry Blog

Thoughts on Motherhood Through the Eyes of an Artist