Artsy Farsty

I get the infamous question all the time...

Who taught you to do that or this or how to...

Well most of the time the answer is no one. I figured it out or made something up.
It's about like my cooking. I make stuff up as I go along, but we won't talk about that right now.

I didn't actually "learn" how to do art. I just went with what I was given when I was little and have built on it ever since. You can't teach HOW to think outside the box, but you can guide someone to do so.

This would be why I have put together art classes for kids this year at the dance studio.
I want kids to dive in and get their creative juices flowing. I won't be "teaching them" to do art. I'll be guiding them to use proper mediums and techniques together and guiding them to excel in making their masterpieces. Most importantly, I'll hopefully be helping them to release their inner artist whether it be a cartoonist, painter, sculpter, etc. I hope to help kids find their niche. What are they good at? What do they enjoy more? What do they like?

I want the kids to be able to be able to have a worry free zone.
No one grading them. No one telling them they're wrong.
There is no "wrong" in art.

SO here's my story on my artsyness.

To keep me entertained and busy, my mother used to put paper and crayons in front of me and play copy cat.

**my younger dance girls know this game well**

She would draw (usually a bumblebee) a picture of something and I was to copy it.
This started my drawing and doodling expertise.
From then on, I doodled on everything.
My high school teachers giggled at my notes  because I would do them in different fonts or fill the margins with patterns, pictures, or who knows what.

When I was in Kindergarten, I had an old book that had "art project how to's" in it. My favorite was the penguin made of construction paper.

One day my teacher let me sit in the middle of the class and teach them to make the penguin. Yes, kindergartener teaches kindergarten.
Thank you Mrs. Wooldrige for letting me always go to the art center and never have to play in the other centers with the other children.

Then came elementary school. I tested in and was selected to participate in SAGE. It was heaven on earth for me. We got to think outside the box and the more creative the better.

At Central, we had art as an activity period. I hated it.
I hated someone told me I did it wrong or mine wasn't what it was supposed to be. To me it was right and it was how I wanted it to look.
The final straw was the day the teacher told me that my pattern wasn't a pattern and she was going to throw my picture away.
I swore no one was going to steal my art thunder. Yes as a 4th grader.

So through jr. high and high school I did not take art from the school. I weaseled my way out of the extracurricular by taking half a year of band in the 9th grade.
I was a majorette. Marching season was done and so was I.

All through school I made who knows how many t-shirts, jeans, signs, bags, canvases, and oh Lord the SHOES!
I remember once we needed shirts for a dance we were doing for a pep rally my junior year. There were 12 cheerleaders including myself.
 I stayed up til 4am stoning and painting those things. The E6000 was stout, and the shirts were strewn everywhere in my room to dry.

Through college I funded my gas money and making the difference in my car note with my paint projects.

Now, it goes in my child's diaper fund.

So that's where it came from. Years of just figuring out what worked and what didn't. What I liked and what I didn't.

So that's where it all came from and why I want to have art classes at the studio.

Big Girls Don't Cry

I get somewhat sentimental with certain things.

Cars for example.
I get attached.
Kind of.

We go through alot together.

When I was 16 my parents surprised me with a brand new red Chevrolet cobalt.
It was a little vroom vroom car.
I had a lot of memories to go along with it.
Cruising the sonic, football games, basketball games, riding around with friends, driving off to college...driving home from college.
And then I convinced my dad I needed something different, convinced him I had it sold (which I did), and got my newish 2010 Limited Ford Escape.
I was a little sad to see my little red car go, but on to more mature ventures I told myself.

I was so proud of myself.
It even had the fancy lights inside that changed color and the upgraded leather seats.

The deal was I paid the difference in the car notes.

So my freshman year of college I got the black escape to tote around the kids I babysat, Texarkana shopping sprees, furniture, my first grocery shopping trip after Andy and I got married, drove back and forth to my baby appointments, drove Piper home from the hospital, and more.

Then the black beauty turned on me...
After a faithful 5 years we had to part ways.

Thank heavens...

After the stupid thing ate my Gaither Vocal Band Christmas cd I was done.
Then it got worse.
The air quit... in the middle of July.

That wasn't going to work out commuting 15-20 min everyday with a 7 month old, and riding with the windows down wasn't my thing.
Too much noise and smells. Ew.

SO on a Friday morning... a week without cold air... on the way to work I had had enough of the Escape's shenanigans and decided I was not going to pour money into this thing to fix all its wrong doings when I could spend the same money on a newer car.

SO after consulting with the husband on my lunch break, I got the green light to look.

Me being me, 10 minutes into "looking", I saw what I wanted and I had my mind set on it and I wasn't going to be happy til I got it.

I went and spoke to the fabulous salesman at the Magnolia Motor Company, took the car for a test drive, let him check mine out, and ran some numbers.

I was sold. Bye bye black car.

HELLO newer white Ford Fusion Titanium.

Hey, all or nothing-leather, pretty colored lights, touch screen, push button start, remote start. Hallelujah it has air conditioning too.

SO on the following Monday morning I traded in the treacherous thing and took possession of my new found companion on my commutes to town and other adventures.

Who could argue with averaging 28-34 to the gallon?
Especially driving highway every day both ways.

SO needless to say, I was not sad and teary eyed to see the SUV go and switch back to a car.
No I don't miss "all the room". What room? I have more room in the trunk of this car than I did in the Escape? Serious. No lie.
Andy can even fit more comfortably in it too.

Now the adventures begin in the white car.
Vroom. Vroom.

7 Months and Counting

Our precious is 7 months old.

Yes, as artsy as I am and nonsense I stink at doing the 1 month posts, pictures, stickers, parties, and stuff.
She's lucky I even filled out her birth weight and time in her baby book.

Although I did put her wrong length in it... I'll blame it on the morphine pump.
I could have sworn they told me she was 18 in. long...

So Pipes is 7 1/2 months old.

She likes fruit blends, but she passes on the Hawaiian Delight. Not a fan. It gets pushed away.
She also likes peas, sweet potatoes, squash, carrots, but passes on green beans.
Don't worry honey, so does mommy.
Yuck.

She is quite the water baby.
We love spending afternoons after work at the Jennings Resort for Bathing Beauties whilst enjoying a shared snow cone of the strawberry cheesecake or the homemade ice cream type.
If we don't get a snow cone we share a cotton candy blizzard from the local DQ.
She then kicks back in her pink whale float and chews on the eyes or splashes the water while I float her around the shallow end.

I've had eye witnesses on the account. If the spoon doesn't come fast enough she lets you know with a loud screech or simply snatches the spoon away.

She is about 20 lbs and close to 30 in. tall.
She has just recently figured out this crawling thing, but only when she really wants to go or get to something.
For example...
The dogs have a habit of sharing their toys with her. Literally.
They bring her a nylabone, then go get one for themselves and come back to snuggle next to her while enjoying their quality chew time.
So she now thinks that they are her toys too.
She makes the valiant effort to reach them when they are lying solo on the living room floor before we snatch them away, but sadly those efforts fail.

Yes, the dogs still accept her as one of their own. They do not let her out of their sight and are quite protective of her.
It's adorable.

She loves to people watch.
If she does not know you she will study you with a furrowed brow til she knows every freckle on your face.
With that said, Walmart, Target, etc. are entertaining for her so of course I take her.

She also loves taking a bath in the sink....with the measuring cups.
She will soon have her own set reserved for bath time.

Lastly, she loves her daddy.
As a little girl your daddy is your first hero, love, dance partner, etc. There was nothing better than your daddy coming to your rescue.

When Andy comes in, she stops what she's doing, gives him a big slobbery grin, and waits with arms wide open and waving for him to scoop her up. Be still my heart.

When she wakes up and gets in our bed while I feed her, she reaches for him all the while climbing to touch his head, pull his hair, stick her fingers in his ears, etc.
She wants her daddy.

We live a good life. One I never thought I would have being married only 1 1/2 yrs, having a 7 month old, 2 dogs, working 2 jobs, and finishing school.
It's full of surprises...good surprises like expecting to eat spam for supper, but coming home to a steak with all the fixings.

My Opinion

Some have wondered where all this strong will has come from all the sudden.Sit tight and I'll explain.

Growing up I was quiet. I did not ever want to make anyone mad, and I would have been easily classified as a people pleaser.
I did not like confrontation whatsoever and would do anything to avoid it in general.
I didn't know how to say no when others asked to copy my homework.
When things popped up at school to be made for the cheer squad, prom, etc. I couldn't say no.
By no means did that mean that I wasn't happy to help, but there were other things that should have taken priority.
Not staying up til 4am rhinestoning shirts for us to wear the next day, but perhaps studying for AP Biology or AP Cal.
OOPS.

As I got older and entered college, I had a professor who told us we were the stupidest group of students he had ever had.
Me being me, I took it to heart and wanted to quit the class, change my major, move states, and create a new identity.
When I was trying to do my homework one night, I told my now husband about it.
He asked me was I stupid.
Of course I said no.
He told me not to let him bully me into something I know I'm not.
Do my best and show him I'm not dumb.

So I did.
The professor ate his words.

When I got pregnant, I had a slight shift in personality. Obviously seeing as my hormones were like that retro video game "Ping" or whatever... The thing where the little ball bounces everywhere and you try to bounce it in the right direction.

I all the sudden had no filter on my mouth. Literally.
Did I sometimes over use the "I'm pregnant with raging hormones" excuse? Oh ya. At that point I was still super confused as to why some things came toppling out of my voice box the way they did.

But being pregnant and having no filter made me realize what it was like to be able to tell people no, do what I thought was best for me and not what would make others happy, and I was able to actually voice my opinion with no thought of what could possibly go wrong except for someone to disagree with it.

The longer I pondered on it, the more confident I was in being able to stand up for myself in a sense that I didn't just say yes or no just to make sure everyone was happy and pleased with what was going on.
I was confident in my voice.

I did not want my Piper to grow up like that.
I did not want my Piper to grow up scared.

So it was time to set the example.
That's how you lead.
You can't tell someone to do something the right way and then do it wrong.
That's not how it works.


I want my daughter to grow up strong, courageous, and confident.
I want my daughter to know how to stand up for herself and what's right and what's wrong even when it's not easy.
I want my daughter to run to us when she needs help.
I want her to know her parents support her and will fight for her.
Do I want her to act a fool while doing so? Oh heck no.
There's a wooden spoon for that.

Which leads me to say this.
I do not want my child to be run over or pushed aside because she is too scared to say anything.
I also will not allow anyone to run over my child.
If anyone feels it necessary to do such a thing, remember I have a special set of skills and I will find you.

You know the old saying- There is no wrath like a woman scorned.
I think they got it wrong because there's a whole new level when you become a momma.
There is no wrath like that which comes from a Momma protecting/defending her child. 

On the Soapbox

Disclaimer** This is my blog. I say what I think. I do what I want. Don't like it? Quit reading or create your own blog. There's my opinion on that.

This is how my blogging works.
I hear about something, read something, or think about something long enough and I feel the need to have a strong opinion.
Whether anyone has figured it out or not, I have strong opinions.
Whether I voice them or not is dependent upon the strength of such opinion.

So here are my opinions since I last wrote...

1.) The subject: People who have more than 2 kids are nutso. FALSO

My Opinion: FALSO.The ability to conceive and mother children is taken for granted, but I don't necessarily believe you aught to make it your goal to have umpteen biological children.

I can see 6-7 as plausible. When you pass 10, you lose me. Let's be honest.  I personally believe God won't give you anything you can't handle.If he blesses you with 7 children, kudos to you. I'm stoked that someone is willing and has the capability to love and nurture that many children. I was given 1 child because the good Lord knew I might pull my hair out if I had more.
 Now I will say this, shame on you to those who feel fostering, adopting, or birthing more babies is all about how much government assistance or how big of a tax refund you can get. You aught not be given the grace of being able to have children if you knowingly aren't going to actually love them and raise them up. You're missing out on a tremendous experience.

2.) The subject: Pity Parties

I don't do well with those who throw the "oh look at me I live a hard life and I don't want attention for it" pity party on their Facebook statuses or what not. Heaven forbid someone to question your well being if you don't plaster it for the world to see. That's looking for trouble in my opinion.
If you want a public service announcement that you stubbed your pinky toe on your new garden gnome, go for it, but don't get upset when the negative backlash of people talking about how ridiculous it sounds comes back around to smack you in the face.
Guess what though?
There's usually someone if not 100 other people who have it a whole lot worse off than your pity party problems.
Let's try being thankful we're alive today shall we?

3.) The subject: Military Benefits

Our government has issues. Is that surprising? Shouldn't be.
My big issue is military benefits.
They don't get enough of them.
And that's all I have to say about that.

4.) The subject: Opinions

That's why their called opinions. I have mine. You have yours. They may not be the same, but have the courtesy to respect that and not be ugly.

I have quite the opinion on the next subject. Just a warning.