Today was an odd day. It was both wonderful and frustrating at the same time. Surprisingly, the frustration had nothing to do with Connor. Alan and I have been trying to make a conscious effort to not sit around with our coffee in the morning. We love drinking our coffee, surfing the internet, and watching TBS sitcom reruns like ''According to Jim.'' I love doing this. I wish I could do this uninterrupted every morning, but obviously we have obligations. This being the case, we are intent on setting a good example and sitting around laughing at a flimsy storyline is definitely not a great impression for a soon-to-be-toddler. So each morning this past week, we have been working out or cleaning or crafting, even gardening, to keep our son with imagines of busy, happy parents.
I love what we did today. We have an old coffee table we got from a second-hand store. The right side on the top is a removeable panel of glass, it looks neat, but if it's not in it's spot, there is a large rectangular hole on the side of the coffe table. I could imagine someone not noticing and setting their drink down. Whoops. So I bought some painter's tape and metallic black spray paint. We taped off a design into the glass, it gives it an art deco, almost:
There are endless possibilities with this one, but we went for a larger design. I think a small, tribal design would be amazing, as well. Then, of course, we sprayed the taped side and let it dry. When we're done, the inlet goes painted side down and looks pretty neat
Of course, after Alan left, I couldn't just let my creativity go to waste. I did one heart-shaped jar today. It was so pretty without any paint, I was almost hesitant to put the acrylics inside. The finished product is definitely worth it, though
Today I heard something I needed to hear. Since Connor was born, I have tried to do the best I could. I attempted breastfeeding, I pumped, I made all of his baby food organically, I have gotten him into music and art as much as I could and made it a point for him to spend time outside. I have had women my same age and older, getting tips from me, asking how to do what I've done, and a friend had never let her 2 year old fingerpaint before she saw me and Connor doing it last month. Yet not once had any of them told me I was a good mother. They never said I was working hard or doing great things for my child. My boyfriend told me all the time and any time I asked. While imitation may be the sincerest form of flattery, it is always nice to hear ''you're doing a great job.''
So today, when a friend from back home told me there needed to be more mothers like me, I was taken back. It seems weird and perhaps this is a personality flaw, my feeling this need for validation through others, but it made my whole day. Sure these other women learned from me & perhaps since I was younger and some already had more than 1 child, it was a little embarassing. I am just happy to hear that today. I am glad other people notice my hard work to stimulate a creative environment for my son.
Alan thinks so. He loves the kind of mother I am and I know, flaws and all, I am a good mother and I will continue to strive for a slow life with my family, crafts included.