Life Imitating Art Imitating Life

 

This drawing was one of the products of N's recent art lessons.  I literally laughed out loud when she gave me her explanation of it.  The pink girls with the full skirts are Norah and Mommy.  (please note my super awesome platform heels and the giant, pink bows--two accessories which, anyone who knows me well can attest that I never leave home without.  And Norah wanted me to clarify that her shoes aren't showing because her "dress is touching the ground so you can't see her shoes") 

The blue guy on the right is Jason, and the blue guy on the left (in the flower-covered hat) is Eli.  What made me laugh about this picture was that Eli really has taken to wearing Norah's floral tea party hat on recent multiple occasions and Norah felt it important enough to capture in her own, personal artistic rendering.  (As I've mentioned before, I think he mainly does this to get a rise out of Norah, because she gets SO upset if he dons anything even remotely effeminate, partly because she's territorial, and partly because she thinks it completely unacceptable for boys to wear girls' attire)

 Not long after showing me her drawing, Norah called me into my room, urging me to bring my camera.  It seems she wanted to do a partial real-life re-creation of her art work. (I didn't even realize it until after I took the photo, but she even has her arm in the same position as it was in her drawing...funny girl!)  I'm telling you, some days, I laugh ALL day-long. 

A Fish Called "Mango"

Meet Mango.  He has resided on Norah's bedside bookcase for the past 18-months (with the exception of a brief stint on the fireplace mantle after a near-death experience involving a curious little brother), and is the sole pet-resident of Robinson County.

I've been meaning to blog  Mango's Fish Tale for about 18-months now (I figure my daughter's first pet is probably a significant memory that I should record), so please indulge me as I try to get these facts down before they slip from my mind forever.

It started out as a weekly, routine grocery shopping venture to Walmart.  Eli was a freshly minted newborn, and Norah had just turned two.  My mom had Norah in her cart (for those who don't know, I am incredibly spoiled blessed to be able to shop with my mother each week, and we typically split the kids up to save on cart space) and I had Eli in mine. 

On this particular morning, we had drastically different lists, which sent us to opposite sides of the store, with the understanding that we would meet back up in produce when we had finished our "variety item" shopping.  All went according to plan, except, as I neared the produce department, I caught sight of a glimmer that resembled water and fish scales, clutched beneath the death-grip of my two year-old's tiny hands.

"Please no!" I thought to myself.  "Not a fish.  Not a pet.  I don't need any more responsibility (or mess) in my life right now.  Not to mention, what I am supposed to do when this thing keels over in a couple of weeks?  Norah's not ready to deal with death..."etc.

I'm sure my mother can attest to the disapproving look I gave her as I pulled my cart up beside hers and upon closer inspection confirmed what I had feared. Norah was, in fact holding a beta fish. 

I believe the first words to leave my mouth were, "I hope that thing is gonna live at Mimi's house."  To which Norah replied, "Momma, did you see my fish?  He's pink and I love him, and I want to call him 'Mango'."

Pet-nazi or not, she had me.  The name was perfect (and I thought pretty ingenious for a 2-year old, and Mimi confirmed that it was 100% her own invention), and her precise blend of sincerity and hopefulness was completely irresistible. 

I picked up my phone and called Jason at work to see what he thought about adding another (small) mouth to feed to the Robinson family.  He was (surprisingly) as apprehensive as I had initially been  (What can I say, we are typical first-time parents...nervous about how even the tiniest decisions will impact our children), but after a brief discussion, we decided to bring Mango home.

And I must say, he's been a pleasure.  He's very quiet, inexpensive, extremely low-maintenance, and easy on the eyes.  He's survived a 3-story (bookcase) drop, and seems no worse for the wear.  And Norah adores him.  Sometimes she talks to him at night when she's lonely.  (And occasionally, she relays important messages from Mango, such as "Mango thinks I look hungry and should have a snack" or "Mango doesn't really like this dress").  She loves to watch him swim, help me change his water, and especially to feed him.  (she's very good about rationing his portions).  And she can tell you all about him ("He is a Beta fish, also known as a "Siamese Fighting Fish, he likes to keep to himself and not swim near other fish..."etc.).

So, to all you fellow first-time parenting, slightly apprehensive, non-pet people, let me say that if you're looking for a good compromise, at least for us, beta fish are the way to go.  (Granted, it hasn't stopped Norah from begging us for a puppy on a regular basis...but it is a small consolation that she still has a pet of her own) And who knows, maybe someday, when the kids are a little older, we'll try our hand at raising something larger...but for now, I think this level of responsibility and upkeep is JUST right for Norah.

A is for Artist

Eli has seemed very interested in Norah's artistic endeavors of late, so I decided it was time to give the boy a little creative outlet of his own.  Since we're still working on getting his letters down, I thought it wouldn't hurt to draw a letter for him to paint.  He didn't seem to mind the subject matter, and went straight to work.  (Singing "A-A-A" to the tune of Jingle Bells, ala Elmo's World, as he worked)

He clearly relished the messy nature of painting.  (although his finesse was a little lacking, if you'll note the paper folding up on itself while he intently continues to work)  And yes, Mom R (since I am so sure you noticed) he did use his left hand for the majority of the time...

Except, of course when he switched to the "butter churn"  technique...

This also seemed to be the point at which his countenance fell.  Not exactly sure what went awry, but it was clear to me at this point that he wasn't 100% pleased with how things were working out.

Here he is bringing me his completed masterpiece.  Judging by the "dirty diaper" hold he has on it, and that unmistakable pout on his face, he wasn't impressed with his product.

This was my favorite shot from the afternoon.  I love the expression on his face. Mischievous, embarrassment, reluctance, and if you look closely, a tiny glimmer of pride.  (Which makes me think maybe all he needed was for me to hang it on the fridge and tell him how great it was)

Ten Years...

A few preliminary words of warning.  This post is long, and contains very little about Norah and Eli (although neither of them would be here without the event that I am about to recall, if that counts for anything).  In addition, this  post might will get a little mushy, so if you're not into that kind of thing, just keep walking....I wont hold it against you.  Honest.

Ten years ago today I married my best friend.  Ten years ago.  That's one third of my lifetime.  When I put it in those terms, it sounds like a significant span of time, but it really doesn't FEEL like very long ago.

Still, if I'm being completely honest, the first thought that entered my mind as I pulled out these "old" photos was, "Oh!  Look at how YOUNG we were!"  In sharing these pictures with Norah, she asked me who everyone was, and upon my naming each person (myself and Jason included), she made a point to reply, "when he/she/you were MUCH younger."  Haha...yeah, I guess so. 

Jason and I were young.  We got engaged on his 19th birthday (which is a whole, other, sweet story), and married 14 (excruciatingly long) months later, when we were both 20.  Neither one of us thought we were too young at the time.  And neither one of us think we were too young in retrospect.  (I treasure that he is the only boy I've ever kissed)

I knew that I would love Jason Robinson for the rest of my life, and I am so thankful that we have been able to experience "growing up" together on our journey to "growing old" together.

Looking at these photos always makes me tear up.  I can remember the roller coaster of emotions I felt that day, as easily as I can read them on my own face.  June 10th of 2000 couldn't come fast enough for either of us...and when it finally arrived, it flew by in an instant.

I bawled my eyes out down the aisle...both ways.  We married in the little church building where we grew up (and first met in the cradle roll as babies), Central Church of Christ, in Bryan.

We paid for the majority of the wedding, ourselves--not because anyone asked us to, but because we wanted to.  (Thankfully, Central Church graciously let us use the building for free--an act that still touches my heart today, as Jason and I had been attending A&M Church of Christ together for several years at the time, and the church at Central still treated us like close family, showering us with so much love and encouragement). As a result, it was a simple wedding, and for the most part, I am glad it was.  I never once felt like we got caught up in the "wedding" part of getting married.  We both knew that the day was about us starting our life together, and we were thankful to be able to share that beginning with so many of our loved ones.

Much of the  wedding and reception are all but a blur in my memory, as the day went by so fast.  Some things that I DO remember from June 10, 2000:


On the day of our wedding, Jason and I didn't see one another until those big, double doors opened and I started down the aisle...but we DID, however, write each other pre-ceremony notes (which were exchanged through our attendants while we were getting ready).  I still have both of our notes, preserved in our 20-year old handwriting, and they will always be precious to me.

I remember the short time I spent with my dad in the foyer before he walked me down the aisle.  I was amazed at his composure and that he didn't cry at all (something I had BEGGED him not to do in the days leading up to the wedding because I knew that if he cried, I would be a goner).  He smiled and took my arm, and let me know he was  proud of me, and how happy he was that I was marrying Jason.  (But as I mentioned, in spite of his holding it together, I cried my eyes out until Jason took my hands, and then I was completely at peace)

 I distinctly remember the way I felt looking into Jason's eyes as we took our vows.   I remember the love that he looked back at me with...and the pride I felt that he was looking at me with those loving eyes and that huge, beguiling grin, in the presence of all our friends and family.  To this day, that is one of the most precious memories from my lifetime.

I remember leaving the reception and driving to our first apartment, just a few minutes away, to change clothes (in separate rooms) before leaving for our honeymoon.  It was your typical first apartment...in the ghetto.  But it was our HOME, and we were thrilled to live there.  When we arrived at the door, Jason surprised me by scooping me up and carrying me across the threshold.  (When we moved from those apartments three years later, several of the neighbors told us that they had witnessed this spontaneous act of chivalry and were moved by it).

I remember driving to Houston to stay at the hotel airport that night, before our honeymoon departure the next day.  And Jason missing the toll exit, and having to pay the toll twice...but never losing his cool or being frustrated.  I think we were both so happy to be married that we could have driven around in circles for half the night and it wouldn't have bothered us.

I remember us both being famished when we finally made it to our room at the hotel.  (We later confessed that neither of us had eaten anything, all day,  besides the two bites of cake we fed each other at the reception!) And ordering room service for the first time in my life.  Being the glamorous, sophisticated twenty year-olds that we were, we ordered cheeseburgers.  And they were delicious.

Fast forward ten years...and I am awakened by the same, sweet man, with a tray of breakfast in-hand.  (Now, before you start to judge me for being a bad wife and not making my working man breakfast in bed on the morning of our anniversary, I should clarify that one of the things I have learned over the course of our 10 years of marriage is that, although my husband has a deep appreciation for bacon, he would much rather sleep than have breakfast in bed...and I have learned to respect that)  So, the fact that he set his alarm for a HOUR earlier than he gets up on a normal work day, so that he could make ME (who stays home) a delicious breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast, milk, and juice before HE headed off to work, is a sacrificial act of love that I will always treasure.

Jason's mom and Grandmother picked up the kids for the evening, giving us the opportunity to have a date night together.  True to our sophisticated 20-year old tastes, we opted for  glamorous Wings-N-More, because it just sounded good.  Then, later, we headed over to Cafe Eccel, where we split a strawberry tart and reminisced about "10 years ago".

One of my favorite conversations of the night was about music.  Jason and I are both avid music lovers, so I posed to him the question, "If we were to make a soundtrack of our time together, what songs would come to mind?"  It was fun to recall different memories we had tied to different songs/eras, but the one that made me smile most was the chorus of a Travis Tritt song from our early dating years..

"Let's hold hands on the porch swing, under the moon
While the wind through the willows plays us a tune
We can lie on a blanket, out back in the yard
And wish for our future on a faraway star
You'll feel the passion as time after time
I press your sweet lips to mine
Then we'll dance to the radio, right up 'til dawn
'Til you drift off to dream in my arms"

So many of our dates were spent out in the country (where Jason's mom lived), on a porch swing under the moon, gazing at stars and dreaming about the "forever" we wanted to spend together.  Every time I hear that song, it takes me back to those days, and the sweet memories I have of them.

And now here, 10 years into "forever" with Jason Robinson, I can only say how blessed I have been by our time together and by the man that he is.  He's been true to his word to "love, honor and cherish" through ten years of "better or worse", and  I can't imagine sharing my life with another man, or trusting anyone else with my heart. He is a Godly husband, amazing father, and he will always be my best friend.

From the Mouthes of Babes: Bears, Black Eyes, and Bugs

Eli: (pointing to a red corvette as it smokes us down on the bypass) "Wook, Norah!  That's a FAST car!"

Norah: Yeah, but that car is speeding.  We are going the speed limit. 

Eli: What's that, Norwah?

Norah: The speed limit is just right. Like in the three bears.  Not too fast.  Not too slow.  

Norah officially has her first black eye.  It came as a result of flipping her chair over on top of herself.  (the chair actually hit her cheek bone and left a long, straight bruise, which after a couple of days spread to her eye)  She was pretty sensitive about it at first when people would ask, but Jason explained to her that "People ask what happened to your eye because they love you." and she seems to handle it much better now.  (Which also probably has a lot to do with the fact that her best friend showed up to church Sunday night with a matching shiner on the exact same eye...go figure!  I hope to post photos of them together soon)


All of the rain last week drew in a MASSIVE water bug (or what we Southerners often refer to as "cockroach"...ewww my skin crawled just typing that), which threw Norah into orbit.  She screamed bloody murder and quickly retrieved Jason to handle the situation.  After the extermination of said bug, Norah informed us, "I do not like bugs.  Only ladybugs, caterpillars and butterflies."  I couldn't agree more, sweetie.

From the Mouthes of Babes

First words spoken by Eli this morning, as I cuddled and rocked him in his underwear, before getting him dressed. (And no, the cuddling and rocking isn't a daily pre-dressing ritual, but I will take it any day that he's feeling snugly for as long as I can get it!)
E: Is THIS the right finger, Mom? 
A: (looking down, not sure what he is talking about) The right finger for what, buddy?
E: The right finger to put in my belly button.

On the car ride to church last night (some of my BEST kid-conversation eavesdropping happens  in the car!)

N: Eli, when we get to church, I am going to hold your hand, and we can share my Winnie the Pooh umbrella.  I love you so much.  You're my best friend.  And if you died, I would be SO sad.  But I would still love you.
(Insert cricket chirping here)
N: Eli, is there anything you want to say to me?
E: (obviously trying to give her the "right" answer) Norwah, thank you for sharing your umbwella with me.
N: You're welcome.  Now, repeat after me. I love you too, Norah.
E: I love you too, Norwah.
N: And if you died, I would be SO sad.
E: And if I died I would be SO sad.
N: No.  Say, "If YOU died I would be so sad."
E: If you died I would be so sad, Norwah.
N: Thank you, Eli.
E: You're welcome.

Art Lessons

Jason and I have been debating for a while now about signing Norah up for an extra-curricular activity.  We had just about decided on gymnastics (Norah's choice), when Norah's drawing phase kicked into high gear.  We decided to hold-off on gymnastics (which we may start in the fall) and contacted an amazing art major friend from church, to see if she would be willing to give Norah some art lessons this summer.

Thankfully, sweet Katie said yes, and with much enthusiasm and joy, Norah had her first lesson this morning.  Her very first project?  A personalized, homemade sketch book.  Katie had her paint the cover , then stitch up the binding (which she had drilled holes for).

Norah went to work at filling it up with pictures, almost as soon as the binding's knots were tied!

Can you tell she's stoked?

I love how she sticks her tongue out when she's concentrating extra-hard on getting the details "just so".  (She is VERY particular about how she wants things to work, and as a result can be a little emotional while drawing)

She even took time out of her busy day to give Eli an "Art Lesson" of his own.

I think she had a little more control over what they drew than he did (like I said,  she's very particular)...but Eli enjoyed the attention, just the same.

Some of my favorite art pieces from this week...

"Santa and his Reindeer"

Apparently the man in the red suit really slims down in the off-season, but at least his reindeer look happy and well-fed.

When I asked her if this pretty, girl reindeer was wearing bows in her antlers, N's reply was, "No silly.  Mommy, that's her crown!  She's the reindeer QUEEN."

"A Family of Reindeer"

She is SO my daughter. She claims that pen is her favorite drawing medium (a pilot G-2 .07, to be exact...a girl after my own heart) and she is already thinking about reindeer in May.