Deep Thinking

I feel like I'm supposed to be making grand observations about the world and the meaning of life, or something like that. I mean, if people are supposed to read this, isn't it neccessary to be more interesting than the back of a cereal box? Unfortunately I'm just not the existential type. Maybe I was in college. Nah, I think I was past it then...might have to go all the way back to middle school. Before I realized that life is life and thinking about it too darn much didn't change anything. Probably just gave god a good laugh. Oooo...I just got existential! Okay, well now it's time for breakfast and I'm hungry, so unless you want to hear me get all existential about toaster strudels, I'm out.

If the World Could Stop Turning Please!

I'm soooooooooooo not ready to go back to work. I love watching a thousand little faces light up in my classroom every week, but I have one very important little face at home to think about. It's not even like I enjoy spending all week without a shower and not knowing what the outside world is...I just want to be here for my baby. Maybe etsy is the answer to my prayers. If I could sell $70 a day I wouldn't have to go back to work. My salary (woo teachers) less the cost of daycare is only worth $70 a day. What is wrong with this country? If I lived back home in Australia I'd have been PAID $5,000 to have a baby. If I lived in France, I'd have 2 years time off! Poop on this country. Yeah, yeah, I still live here. I know. Damn it.

Selling

There's something about selling a piece of artwork that helps to justify your entire existence. Don't get me wrong, I realize I exist outside of my work, but some one likes me, you really like me! The days that drag on, with noone buying, noone nibbling, eat away at your self confidence, your worth and your soul. I know that sounds grandiose, but it's the truth. So when someone lets you know that yes, you are worth 2 hours wages plus shipping, well that's just fun.

My life

Welcome to my whole world. And in a couple short weeks I'll be leaving him in someone else's hands. Someone else who is going to share all his firsts and spend his days with him and become so important in his life that I fear they will come to replace me in his heart. It's not fair that we have to work to make money to pay someone else to raise our children. It's not fair that at 3 months old, 6 weeks for most parents, my baby will not understand why his mommy isn't holding him when he cries. Work sucks.

My work

Did I mention I'm an etsy artist? Wow, artist...I don't usually claim that title. It's something I think has to be bestowed upon you, not claimed. I am an art teacher, that's easier to say, and true....but artist? I guess I have been paid for my work before, that makes it official right? *big breath*

http://www.ferntreestudio.etsy.com/

Here we go y'all!

Okay, so I don't blog. Make that didn't blog. Where on Earth am I supposed to find time to type down my thoughts when I have a 3 month old baby and a job and a studio and, and , and... oh wait, nevermind, the baby sucked all the thought producing ability out of my pretty little head anyway. Phew! Pressure off. Guess all y'all will get is the aimless ramblings between diaper changes and drawing. Should be fun. Or at least, um, interesting.