Art

I took the boys to the Art Museum. It sounded like a good idea and perhaps a segue into a whole slew of Christmas art projects I am hoping to do over the coming weeks. I figure if we are not going to be home for Christmas, then we will go above and beyond to make everything feel Christmas-y. Anyway, when the AQI is hitting 200 and everything feels nasty and bleak, you've gotta figure out something worthwhile to do. Something that is inside and does not involve a shopping mall.  (I could shop at fresh markets ALL DAY EVERY DAY, but the kids are OVER those. The last fresh market I took them to had gerbils, rabbits, guinea pigs {all alive thank God} and that was my saving grace for getting them to cooperate. Of course, there were the twenty-five billion questions firing out of Hudson's mouth with regards to what those creatures were doing there, but I avoided those as best as I was able. The kids is convinced he is getting a rabbit for Christmas, BTW. Okay, I digress....)

Anyway, art museum: it was pretty boring. And I mean that in the nicest possible way. There were some large installations like this piece:

And thankfully, Hudson paid no attention to one thing that seemed a bit overemphasized, if you ask me. I guess the artist had a pretty high opinion of himself.

The boys liked this "house". But about 10 seconds after seeing it Tucker started saying, "I wanna go to Poppa Bear's house" repeatedly. (Poppa Bear's house has Lincoln Logs which he loves to play with!) I was impressed with his memory!

There was this horrible moment too. Immediately Hudson asked if we could try this when we got home. Um, no.

It was not all bad, I really liked this one. Carving in stone is cool.

The past five days have been really long. Josh is in Japan and I have been 100% parent, 100% of the time. When I am completely alone, I find that I do not even rest well because it is like I know that if something goes wrong in the middle of the night, I am on my own to deal with it, so I never totally relax. Not to mention, there is just the general concern for Josh's welfare that keeps me distracted. He is fully capable, but the guy does not typically travel without his personal assistant (me) who has already done all the leg work on how to navigate the subway, researched seventeen different ways to reach the hotel, planned on how/where to exchange for new currency, and maybe even packed his suitcase. Rest assured he has done perfectly well without me. (Boo.) Meanwhile, I did not accomplish all of the things I wanted to when he was gone, but I did figure out how get some rest at night (light on, door rigged) and I made sure we did make the mile walk to church (on time even!) on Sunday. It is really hard to be the one answering every question. Giving every bath. Reading every book. Preparing, cleaning, organizing every meal.

Sorry, Picasso. This is my kind of art.

At a playdate today I had a woman tell me she *thought* I must have been an elementary school teacher because I was so good with my kids. I nearly choked on my Chinese dumplings. Parenting continues to make me feel like a total failure. Like I have no idea. every day. what the heck I am doing. 

I constantly feel like I am having this out of body experience where I hear myself parenting and I am like, "What the heck did I just say?"

Does anyone else feel like this?

(BTW, thank you all for thinking the Instagram post of the boys holding hands as a punishment for fighting was funny. I am still sure I am going straight to Parenting Purgatory for that one.)

So, if someone thinks that you have it all together, are they right or wrong OR is parenting just subjective like art? 

Like art, parenting is expressive and personal. Some people will see your style and like it. Others will question your technique. We've all seen the results of someone's parenting and thought "Well, that is just screwed up!" and we have also probably said out loud at some point to someone, "Your parents raised you right!" Can you be doing it right and not know it? Or probably more importantly, how do you know that you are doing it wrong before it is too late? 

Clearly my boys are two totally different people. They are motivated differently, the react to situations differently, they value different things, and so what works for one does not work for the other. Collectively they just raised the parenting bar. Being effective will require distinct artistry. 

My favorite kind of art. Part Deux.

I guess I will just have to work on making sure I have the right tools for the job. Anyway, we left the art museum pretty quickly. It was not my style. So, we ditched the place and headed to the shopping mall. At least there they have some (explainable) things that we like to look at, like cheap clothes, awesome $1 bowls of Wuhan noodles, and fun little vistas like this:

Hudson and Holly watching me.