The temperatures have been slowly declining, hovering in the low 90s. It’s been lovely: we’ve been able to play on the porch and outside in the garden much more, and also enjoying sunny mornings indoors with all the windows open.
Unfortunately, over the past week and a half our family has been fighting off a head cold. We have taken turns being sick: first my mom and Jake and Beatrice, then Michael and my dad and me. I’m still on the mend.
Bea didn’t let a cold stop her from improving her crawling skills, however. She still prefers scooting on her belly, but also has started using her hands and knees. She also got up to a sitting position by herself recently. I now have to keep a close eye on her: she is very fast and has army crawled over to the cat (or Michael’s trains) in the blink of an eye. She also found her toes — they keep her entertained more than any other teething toy.
Meanwhile, Michael is being a very patient big brother as he learns to keep his favorite toys out of reach. He’s leapt forward this month in terms of language: listening to him narrate his imaginative play is an absolute delight. He also recently discovered he can make Beatrice giggle, and often pretends to be a jumping frog shouting RIBBET to get her to belly laugh.
He also had a play date with my mom while I was sick and needed extra rest: he loved spending special time exploring with grandma. I got this photo from their excursion, and couldn’t believe how grown up he looked.
We’ve done a few thrift store runs on days when the heat was especially oppressive. I love finding secondhand treasures: it saves us money (especially with the kids’ clothes!) while also helping me curate our home with vintage and eco-conscious beauty.
My favorite discovery is this crescent moon candle holder. Michael loves his “new” farm puzzle and tractor flashlight.
Being sick threw us off our routines: we’ve had more screen time and less outdoor play as we recovered. But I’ve still tried to be intentionally unhurried about things as I can. More meals at the table with the candles lit. More mint iced tea or iced coffee out of pretty cups (this cup now comes with me everywhere and helps me stay hydrated). More homemade treats (including this easy and delicious cinnamon roll recipe).
We’re also making more time for art. Michael loves painting and art, and I wanted to do something with him instead of watching or doing another project next to him while he painted.
I also really wanted something to do with my hands when my wrists are tired from knitting or spinning. So earlier this year, I decided to buy a set of watercolors and a sketchbook.
Art is something that has never been easy for me. I have always loved writing, and I do consider myself a fiber artist, but I struggle with art in the traditional sense of paint and paper. If a picture is worth a thousand words, I would much rather write the words than pick up a paintbrush. Because of that, I used to avoid it. It gave me anxiety to think of other people seeing my clumsy attempts at drawing or painting. I placed so much pressure on myself to be good at things.
But over the past few years, I’ve begun to embrace being an amateur. There’s something remarkably freeing about doing something only for the love of it, without any expectations or pressure to be good at it. I enjoy playing with color, and the unpredictability of wet-on-wet paint, and finding random references on Instagram or Pinterest to help me hone a particular skill.
I’m not planning on sharing much of my watercolors here: I feel like that might add some of the pressure and expectation I’m trying to avoid. But I wanted to share an unexpected side effect of learning how to watercolor: the way I see the world has changed.
In watercolor, it’s often a good idea to move from light to dark colors because the white of the paper is your light. So when I’m beginning a new painting in my sketchbook, I look for the lightest places and move forward from there. If I see something beautiful I want to paint, I’ve begun automatically looking for the lights and shadows.
The practice of looking for the light has been bleeding over into other parts of my life. Especially as I struggled through these past few weeks of illness, sleep deprivation, and parenting difficulties, doing watercolor alongside my son has helped me remember to focus on the light more than the dark.
I could dwell on the difficulties that have been weighing me down: exhaustion, loneliness, tantrums, teething, illness, etc. But I find, just like watercolors, I enjoy both the process and the end result much more if I look for the light instead: baby giggles, bedtime snuggles, cinnamon rolls, good books and tv shows, handknit socks, frothy coffee, porch playtimes…and (of course) watercolors.
five acres four generations 