10" x 10" acrylic on canvas
I've been feeling a little. . . melancholy lately as I've been at home with my boys this summer. I love having them home and out of school. We play games, go to the park, go swimming, hang out and pop popcorn and watch movies in the middle of the day and it's just such a sweet time.
But, being the pessimist that I am I'm also watching them and thinking of last summer and how much they've grown and changed since then. I'm feeling sad that time is passing and they're growing up. It's already almost July, there's only two months left of summer vacation. Am I cherishing this time as much as I should? Am I taking enough pictures, writing down all the little things they do that is unique to this stage of their life that I never want to forget?
I hope I am. I guess one day when they are all grown up we'll find out. :)
I painted this of my youngest son, when he was about six months old, a few weeks ago and when I was finished I looked at it and remembered those first days and weeks after he was born that were so incredibly sweet, but also so incredibly challenging.
It was much harder to balance the needs of three children instead of two. I was sooooo tired all the time. I remember some days looking at my sink full of dishes, and gigantic laundry pile and feeling so completely overwhelmed. There were lots of days when I'd just start crying for no reason at all. Hormones, the baby blues whatever you want to call it, I had it.
But then I would hold this baby, and feel his little hand wrap around mine, his breath soft on my cheek, his face tucked in close to my neck and I'd feel better. Who cares about dishes and laundry when I have this perfect little baby to hold and love all day and all night?
Just holding him made me feel better. He was my sunshine that broke the dark clouds and chased them away. He still is actually.
I try to remember this and all the other happiness each of my children has brought me when I hear a little outraged voice for the tenth time that day say, "He started it!!"