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The guest blogger is back to clear his name. OK not really. I admit it I melted the kids’ sippy cup lids and the pan I was “steaming” them in and I dulled a knife beyond recognition trying to extract said lids from said pan only to find that all of the articles were indeed a total loss. I may also have something to do with the insanity of these little beings that seem to follow us all over the place, while sneezing in our faces, fighting over objects that have no discernible value to anyone only to abandon them after winning the fight, kicking us either in A. the jewels or B. the container of their future sibling (you can do the math I assume) while riding in the shopping cart and begging, yes begging to get a t-ball bat and ball only to take two swings and say “That’s enough, you can carry it home now”.
So of course one of us is blameless in all of this. She is the princess and we are all gigantic boulder sized peas under the mattress. So if we are to change our ways and give her the respect and deference she deserves we will need to listen to the words of one far wiser than we. Ladies and gentlemen I give you Mr. T. I pity the child that does not heed his wisdom, or the woman who dresses like his back up singers.
As I was doing some ‘research’ while the kids napped (I think flipping through Elle Decor IS research), I saw an article about French photographer Didier Massard.
On the one hand, I am surprised by how much I like his work – in some ways it reminds me of ‘Lord of the Rings’ or ‘Mary Poppins’ (and I don’t consider myself a fan of LOTR).
But I guess I am a sucker for a landscape – real or artificial. Check out ‘Mangrove’, ‘Rhinoceros’ and ‘Carousel.’
It seems I’ve, unwittingly, hopped on the treadmill of school obligations. Who knew enrollment in preschool would entail fundraising, fieldtrip permission slips, birthday treats and…valentines. We received a note on Monday (just ‘in case’) with a list of all the classmates and the various and sundry aides and teachers. Bottom line: 28 valentines.
My helper was less than enthusiastic. He painted a few then declared he was tired and, when that didn’t work, said his leg hurt. Nice try! I bribed him with gummy bears which was just the incentive he needed to paint all 28.
Before he’d paint one I’d announce ‘and this one is for Mary (or whatever the student’s name happened to be.) Finally we came to ‘Blake.’
‘And here’s one for Blake’, I chirped enthusiastically, crafty fun mom that I am. ‘I don’t want to do one for Blake,’ was the reply. ‘He took my tractor.’
Fair enough.
I find I am most appreciative of a gift when it is unexpected.
On Saturday morning I got an unexpected gift of a quiet hour at the Chicago Art Institute (with my sidekick H in the Baby Bjorn). I’d actually hoped to see the Winslow Homer/Edward Hopper exhibit, but apparently I’d missed the crucial bit of information that it doesn’t start until mid-February. Story of my life!
Nonetheless, I enjoyed the photography exhibit, featuring Rineke Dijkstra’s and Hellen van Meene’s work. I am NOT an art critic by any means, but I love the colors in van Meene’s photography and how she poses her subjects.The contemporary art section had a beautiful landscape by Gerhard Richter on display. I am always amazed by the photographic quality of his oil paintings.
H was the recipient of much attention from the museum staff and visitors alike. If you had hair like this, people would stare and point at you, too.
He was most intrigued by Doug Aitken’s work. Not sure if it was the dark room, the images or the sound, but he is definitely a fan.
I concluded my perfect hour with a quick stop at Intelligentsia for a pound of Decaf Black Cat and the best cappuccino I’ve had in a long time. (Complete with latte art.)
