a new era

today was my son's first day of kindergarten, and scott and i's first sabbath without kids.  it was delightful.  after the usual hubbub of getting the kids out the door in the morning, we leisurely spent the a.m. napping, reading, and snuggling.  went out for lunch and then did some shopping (!), bought me some boots (!!!) and a new BEAUTIFUL winter coat.  happy birthday to me!

my son was beaming when i picked him up "mommy!  three recesses AND gym!!", i made chicken cordon bleu for dinner and then the kids made an obstacle course in the backyard and we raced - my daughter won.  i think i will have bruises from the "sit in the toy dump truck and move it over to the tree without using your feet" obstacle.  what was i thinking trying to squeeze my butt into that toy?  scott pointed out the fact that the bucket portion of the truck seems to have been widened - he wisely said "we broke it"...but i think we all know who broke it, and there's no "we" about it.

so, all in all a fantastic beginning to this new era in parenting.  i keep saying to scott "we made it!" and i can hardly believe it.  i almost get misty eyed due to the fact that both my kids can wipe their own butts and get into their own carseats.  and now they have lockers and school shoes and lunch kits! 

my hope for this season is to spend sabbath with scott, one day a week painting, and one day every other week volunteering at the crisis pregnancy center.  it feels surreal to be in a place of making decisions based on my passions and giftings, and not on childcare needs, nap times, the emotional/physical needs of my kids, etc.. 

and what an absolute joy to watch my kids grow and explore and mature (a little).  i found out that my daughter, who's in grade 3, found her little brother on the playground at lunch and invited him to play with her and her friends.  he got to be a baby porcupine in their game.  i'll have to spike his hair for wednesday so he can really get into character.  what a big sister.  the only time i remember seeing my big brother at elementary school was on the bus - and he told my mom that i kissed a boy on the ride home in grade one and she sent me to my room to "think about it".  i did kiss him, but only because the bus guard - one of those burly grade fivers that you see in movies - made me.  his name was Grant and he had an english accent.  and so began my illustrious kissing career.  of all the times i should have been sent to my room, the grade one bus kiss was not one of them.   

i don't blame you though mom.  how does one handle such scenarios?  yesterday my son cut his sister's new doll's hair.  she walked downstairs and he said "it cuts like real hair!  look!" and proceeded to unwrap his fingers, revealing a small clump of dolls hair in his palm.  to her immense credit she did not scream, she just came to me and calmly relayed the information.  what's a parent to do?  i made him pay her a dollar.  i said that he had damaged someone elses property, and according to the law he had to pay for it.  he took it well. 

Lord knows what disciplinary measures i'll be wading through next week, or even tomorrow.  it's enough to make me want to turn ostrich and hide my head in the sand. 

praise God there's another sabbath coming.

 

the last day

today is my last day of 36. 
this last week has been a nesting flurry - despite not being pregnant.  i came home from my month away and went a little crazy with paintbrush and nails and debit card.  i think i have this feeling of impending imprisonment in my home during the long winter ahead, and i want to make it as beautiful as possible for the coming siege.  tonight i'm sitting back, taking it all in with a sigh of satisfaction.  i'm currently on my couch with the sun shining in through the tree in our front yard, covering me with dappled light.  scott and the kids are out for a walk and i stayed in, warm and cozy, to finish a novel and write to you all.  it's been a lovely day.  i wish all of my "last days" could land on a sabbath.

tomorrow my youngest registers for kindergarten.  i washed his hair today but got sidetracked with dinner and forgot to comb it so it's sticking up every which way around his little head.  perfect.  he told his sister and i the other day, over lunch, that he was a little nervous for school.  big sister piped right up with "but you're going to love it!  and you get to be in a play at the end of the year!  and go to assemblies and the library and gym and even dance class!!"  he turned his big eyes to me - "i don't want to be in a play!" strike one for big sister.  but a big A for effort. 

i picked up my paintings from rosthern a week ago - it was like reuniting with old friends.  we're still arranging and re-arranging them around the house, but oh!  how i missed them.  and what a sense of worth i feel when i experience how they turn a room into a beautiful space.  i think that this gallery show has propelled me forward into seeing myself as an artist, not just someone who enjoys painting.  not that it was a financial success, but the whole journey of creation and display and offering my work to both friends and strangers....something has clicked inside.  and i'm thankful.

last week i arrived home to 3 foot weeds (did i tell you?).  what is it about weeds that are so irksome?  scott and i walked with the kids down by the river last night - gorgeous gorgeous evening with the setting sun and wildflowers and tall grass.  surrounded by weeds and loving every minute, and yet, in my own yard...is it because i can't control them?  is it because i work so hard to get something i have paid for to grow and these just shoot up willy-nilly, seemingly without the need for water or fertilizer or attention?  infuriating!!  my mom calls weeds 'God's flowers', but in my mind i think the opposite. 

a while ago, while i was uprooting these intruders, i had the thought that weeds are like sin.  (stick with me here, i think i have a point.) it's so easy to lie, to envy, to covet, to gossip, to lust; and so hard to sacrifice, and honour, and submit, and have compassion.  you don't have to cultivate sin, it just springs up when and where you least expect it.  and kills the Spirit alive within you, trying to grow and flourish and beautify.  i did not have to plant anger in myself or my children, or tend to jealousy.  but love, joy, peace, patience, self-control, kindness, goodness...these need to be nurtured and practiced and protected.  not that they're more fragile, just harder to grow.  maybe this is why God reveals himself first as a gardener in Eden.  where weeds need no help to flourish, the garden needs a Gardener.  and so do i.

and then today scott and i had fries from mcdonalds and decided they're like sin.  they taste so good in the moment, and then 10 minutes later you pay for it. 

and wetting the bed is like sin.  momentary pleasure that quickly brings discomfort.

do the metaphors never end?  okay, i'm stopping.  but here's to my 37th year ahead - may it be filled with artistry, a garden of God's character, healthy food and a dry bed.  cheers.

my secret identity

picture this woman:  she's wearing keens, mid-thigh khaki shorts, a comfortable yet fashionable shirt (probably bought at one of those earth-conscious stores), there's a well-worn nalgene bottle in her hand, half full.  her legs look strong, her hair is relaxed - no fuss, she's wearing makeup?  minimally, with a corded bracelet.  she's carrying a baby in a backpack and has just come from hiking a mountain.

this is the woman i've always wanted to be.

i'm turning 37 in two weeks and have finally come to grips with the fact that i will never, ever, be this woman.

i've been on holidays for almost a month - we've been to a cabin in saskatoon, a camp on vancouver island, grandparents in the lower mainland of BC, and now i'm with the kids at my parents in Ontario.  somewhere, in this journey, i must have caught a glimpse of myself:  wearing a dress, manicured hair, sandals with rhinestones, chunky bracelet, makeup and purse.  i was holding a travel mug with tea, and was showered and changed after my jillian micheals workout dvd.  somehow, in that glimpse, a wakeup call sounded: it's time to embrace myself and let the dream of outdoorsy-casual-low-maintenance janet make way for the reality of indoorsy-dressy-medium-maintenance janet. 

i look better, and feel more comfortable, in a dress than in shorts. 
i don't like hiking mountains.   
i like a little flavouring in my water.  and caffeine. 
i look prettier with some mascara and lipstick. 
so what?

this, i must tell you, has been a freeing revelation.  i went shopping with a dear friend down in washington, and i didn't even try on a pair of pants - only leggings!  it was so relaxing to walk into a store and think about what i actually wanted to wear instead of what i wished i would wear.  does that make sense?  see ya later shorts and sweatshirts.  hello cardigans and sundresses!

i've gotten the line "why are you so dressed up?" a few times (especially at camp :)), but I'm getting less and less embarrassed when it comes.  i answer "this is the way i dress".  doesn't that sound mature?  for the first few weeks i felt the need to explain this revelation to everyone.  most of them looked at me like "it took you this long?".  i guess everyone else has been in on this secret except me.

wouldn't you know i'd be the last one in on my own secret identity.

so, i'm off in my maxi dress to get my birthday present from my parents:  leather boots.

leaks

i know that Tolstoy is famous.  i know that many people give him acclaim for his writing skills.  but still, this passage was surprising:

however painful the mother's fear....the children themselves repaid her griefs with small joys.  these joys were so small that they could not be seen, like gold in the sand, and in her bad moments she saw only griefs, only sand;  but there were also good moments, when she saw only joys, only gold.

yes, i'm reading Anna Karenina, and i confess that i'm reading it because i want to watch the upcoming movie with insight.  and it's great.  and it's long.  but worth it when you come across little gems like the sentences above. 

i've seen a lot of gold this week.  my husband is (finally!) on holidays and i definitely love being a mom more when there's a father around.  we spent the last 5 days at pike lake, staying at a friends cabin.  it was all a cabin should be - a little leaky, filled with windows and yellow walls, clean enough for comfort, relaxed enough that you're not reaching for the broom every day.  a large wrap around deck leading you down to the lake, Adirondack chair and canoe.  sounds dreamy right?  it was. 

and the golden moments were many - my husband cannon balling off the dock to the squeals of my kids, my daughter finding an injured dragon fly and carrying it around on her shoulder for the rest of the day, a local beaver that swam over to visit us, my little boy jumping in the lake with his favourite flowered floaty around his waist. 

but lest you think there were no sandy times, the toilet was broken and i couldn't sit on it.  thank God i've been working out regularly or i don't think my squats would have held out.  and thank God for coffee.  coffee keeps things moving quickly, and every second counts when squatting over a foot-high trailer toilet.

on a perfectly un-related note, i was visiting a church tonight that reminded me of parkside.  small, quirky, relational, raw, simplistic and relaxed.  it was lovely, and during worship God gave me a picture of myself.  i feel keenly aware of my flaws lately, the cracks and holes that exist in this molded creation that is janet.  i was praying, asking that God would fill me with His mercy and use me to extend it to others.  and i saw this hole-riddled shell, leaking out what God puts in.  without our imperfections we would be oblivious to the gift that grace is.  God uses our frailty to wake us up to His perfection, and to equip up with empathy for the frail beside us - our sisters and husbands and kids and friends... my holes are the means of God's mercy leaking out to others.

so, leaky toilets and leaky lives.  thankfully i don't have to do penance with squats.

thoughts on age

a couple weeks ago i had this dream that i was standing in line waiting to get into some function.  i didn't know what the function was, but it was in a building, and i was in line, and i was in the front!  so, i really didn't care what was inside because i was revelling in the fact that i was at the front and the scores of people behind me would just have to wait (hey - i can't help it if i'm sinful in my dreams).  i finally got through the doors.  i still couldn't see what was happening but the air was thick with anticipation and excitement.  the door attendant asked to see my ID, so i passed it over and she looked at it closely.  VERY closely.  she started scratching at my birth date to see if it would come off.  she said "promise me this isn't fake".
i was in utter shock.
i answered "i am 36 years old.  are you serious?  do you really think i need fake ID?  THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!".  i might have hugged her, my memory is a bit fuzzy at this part, and i don't think i ever made it inside much further than the doorway before i woke up.  but the meaning of the dream was clear - no need to call in the interpreters for this one.

a few days later i was talking to my friend Sonal about her leggings.
"where did you get those?  they look so good."
sheepishly she answers "lululemon"
"oh" i say
"i know they're expensive, but they literally last me 10 years so it's worth the money".
hmmm.
i go home and tell scott that i think i need to buy some lululemon leggings because mine keep shrinking (blame it on the leggings!) and look horrible and "Sonal says they'll last me ten years!"
suddenly i'm hit with the realization that in ten years i will be almost 47 years of age and will probably NOT be wearing leggings. 
"forget it," i say "i'll stick with the cheap ones".

scott is probably thinking, 'i didn't even have to say a word!'

my daughter, who is 8, recently asked me what it was like in the "old-fashioned times", when i was a kid.

my birthday is coming soon, can you tell?

but here's the truth - i wouldn't go back.  it's not worth the thin waist or the ability to eat copious amounts of food with no thought to the consequences or the lack of responsibility.  i like me better now.  i don't live afraid anymore.  i have fulfilling work and relationships and, yes, responsibilities. i adore my children.  i'm in love with my husband.  i'm living the dream at 36!

so bring on the birthday.  although i might make myself some fake ID.

reminiscing on humidity

lately it's been gloriously hot and humid.  i can say this for two reasons:  first (and foremost), i have air conditioning for the first time in my married life.  and second:  i grew up in Ontario.

Ontario in August can feel like your being slowly suffocated by a hot wet sock.  really, that lovely.  and yet, there's a part of me (and i didn't realize it until recently) that enjoys it.  i spent every summer of my childhood at a camp in the Ottawa Valley, living in a trailer, and hanging out with friends.  it was a Pentecostal camp - now, i know that's giving you visions of wild church services, complete with dancing and laughing and crying.  well, that was about it, but add to that vision the fact that these services happened every night (!!!) during family camp, and that they were held in a tin barn that conducted and stored heat like an incubator.  a barn lovingly known as the tabernacle.   as crazy as it sounds, these were magical summers for me which planted a deep desire for God in my life. 

and quite a few camp romances :).

there were many families who spent weeks on end at this camp every summer, and there's nothing like spending every day, all day, with a group of friends to solidify their place in your heart.  we played a LOT of cards, water-skied, swam, attended church, bought fundip and fries at the tuck shop, hiked through the adjacent farmlands, and pretended to smoke grass around the campfire. (and by that i don't mean marijuana, i mean grass).  sadly, i've lost touch with all of them.  but the other night i walked outside and was struck by this wall of humidity and heat and my first thought was "why don't i have cards in my hand?  i need a game!".  the air smelled sweet and sticky and my skin instantly felt prickly - it was delectable!  i was transported back to an age with few responsibilities, lots of questions and emotions, the sweet sadness of young love, languorous afternoon naps and the ecstasy of a cold lake on a hot day.

so, if you want to make my summer, the next time the humidity hits show up on my doorstep with chips in one hand and cards in the other.  i'll even let you win.

[and if anyone knows Angela Giles, Colin Wiley, Jonathan Shepherd, or Karen Kwapis tell them Janet Laing says Hello!]

i made it!

on saturday night i welcomed my third child into the world:  my art show.  9 months in the making, the delivery was surprisingly less painful than that of my first two children.  and though not quite as magical as holding a newborn in my arms, it was a delicious experience.

i was surrounded by friends, applauded by strangers, and held by my husband.  i couldn't have imagined a better night.  so, i've been described as "an artist" publicly now, and have a show to prove it.  you might not be amazed by that but i sure am.

last week i had this terrible vision while falling asleep - that scott and i died in a car crash on the way to the show.  it was quite terrifying and reminded me of when i was engaged and confident my husband would not make it to the wedding.  i could just see the headlines "woman and husband die on route to first art show".  so i was quite thrilled when my friends Lesley and Vern offered to drive us.  when we arrived i told her about my pessimism-issues and she said "i had the same thought while we were coming here..." .  good grief - it's catching!!  we made it there and back with only one moment of terror - how does a deer look so graceful and endearing in a field and like a sadistic monster in the middle of the highway?  the van was packed with friends - 7 in all - and we laughed like teenagers and i even belted out some whitney housten (until scott encouraged me to simmer down).  i wasn't the only one singing scott!


cori kay flew all the way from BC to attend the opening and i'm looking forward to one more blissful day with her here before she jets back tomorrow night.  she's one of those house guests that fits in like the furniture and plays with your children and is just as happy to sit and read a book with you as she is to make the waterpark rounds.  what a treat. 

i feel exhausted from gratitude and wonder - my cheeks hurt from smiling.  it's marvelous to feel like such a wreck.  however, i also feel my age due to the consecutive late nights and the two workouts i've done from my new "bootcamp" dvd.  i think that, despite the ridiculously hot weather, a bath is in order.  praise the Lord above for air conditioning!

thanks again to all of you who made it out, and to all who still plan on seeing the show.  good news - it's been extended until the 25th of August.  so you have lots of time to saunter out to Rosthern, enjoy an afternoon tea with saskatoon berry pie and soak in some beauty.   the play - Jake and the Kid - is truly remarkable and i would highly recommend taking it in as well.

and, of course, i would be remiss if i didn't write and enormous THANK YOU to lindsey, for making the dream a reality, and gifting me with the privilege of hanging my art next to hers.