Contagious

Activity begets activity.  It's evident in my running.  Once I start I can't stop.  I run one day and the next thing I know I am waking up at 6 am four days in a row to pound the pavement.  I love it.  I need it.

I'm finding it now in other areas as well.  Rather than sitting and watching reruns of Grey's Anatomy during Lion's nap time, yesterday found me on my hands and knees digging through our game and puzzle bins.  Games and puzzles that had not seen the light of day in months were taken downstairs.  A part of me wanted to take them directly to  Goodwill but baby steps.  Once I know they have all the pieces and no one asks where they are, they will be gone.  I know that now.

After I hung the canvases on the wall, I knew it needed more.  So Lion and I got the paints out and went to work.

It was fun.

It was comforting.

It was familiar.

The rhythm we had was so much like the one I used to have with Bunny when she was his age.  The questions about what will happen if you mix one color with another, the desire to paint one after the other, all so similar.  He's even painting his own version of Hamstacks (albiet without the fascinating backstory of French scientists who live at the circus).

And now I'm blogging again.  I haven't blogged with any real regularity in months, maybe even a year.  But here I am three days in a row in a place I haven't been in so long.  I don't know why but it just feels right.  It feels like something I need to do.  My first blogging home But Why Mommy doesn't feel like fits anymore.  I'm still a mom but it's not all I am.  This is freer, there are no expectations here.

I once had dreams of being a style blogger, a craft blogger, something.  Now I don't.  Maybe it's age, maybe it's maturity, maybe it's apathy.  I'm writing for me.  I'm writing about the things I want.  There are no apologies for being gone for so long.  I obviously needed the break.  There are no promises of more.  I may be here in a week, a month, a year or I may not.  But I am here now and I think I'd like to stay.

Half Finished

I am the queen of half finished projects. 

I get a brilliant idea in my head.  I rush out to the craft store.  I start.  And then I don't finish.

My room is full of baskets containing unfinished crochet projects and yarn that didn't quite make it into a project.  The craft room of doom contains piles of beads, empty canvases and a dormant sewing machine.  Even if I finish a project there is no guarantee that anything will be done with it.  It may lay forgotten on a table or a shelf for months.

Last year we repainted our green living room a lovely latte color.  It is brighter and lighter but it lacks the punch that green had.  So one day when the kids were painting, I decided to join in.  I grabbed three canvases, some mod podge, textured paper and a bunch of paint.  I glued, papered and mixed the paints on the canvases.  It was fun and I was pleased with the results.

I had every intention of hanging the canvases on the living room wall near the TV. 

I meant to do it, I really did.  But I didn't.

The canvases were added to the piles in the craft room of doom.  Every time I saw them I meant to hang them, I really did.  But I didn't.  I did nothing with them for months.

And then one day in a fit of inspiration, I hung them on the wall.  The organization may not be the greatest but they are on the wall.  I finished something!