Next Season

May has arrived and with it the snow has finally melted. The 40 degree temperature swing has been delightful and jarring.
I went from painting the whole first floor of the house because we were STILL stuck inside with snow to GET THAT GARDEN PLANTED NOW!  I even had a gentleman at the garden center tell me "you should know better, it's too late to plant violas".  Thank you kind sir.  Isn't one of the only perks of adulthood getting to make your own bad decisions?!
Especially regarding violas I think this should be so.

We are expecting our first days of true spring rain and I can't wait.
I love rainy days.
There is so much I still need to do inside and those new seeds of mine outside can't wait for their shower.

I'm finding myself pulled so greatly into my making lately.
At church a group of moms decided to spear head a time each week for people to gather in quiet just to work on their crafts.
 Last Friday I painted for TWO HOURS, UNINTERRUPTED.
The week before that another friend asked for a painting date and I got the first layer of a new acrylic painting underway.
It's been years, literally, since I've made/found the time for that kind of making in my life.
Now I crave it daily.

I've decided that my thirties, for me, are all about accepting myself as I am now.  It's been so easy for me to get caught up in who I was years ago, rather than look at who I've become.  Especially with the girls in school now I think often of myself as I was as a student.

It still feels shocking to me when I forget an appointment, remember a pick up time incorrectly, post a bill late.
The Becky I knew for 20 years would never have let that happen.  But that Becky was also pretty miserable.
I cared way too much about things that didn't really matter and drove myself crazy with worry over truly insignificant things.
It's maddening now to have a child that could literally give less fucks about her 5/10 on a spelling test, but it's weirdly refreshing too.  Third grade spelling doesn't really matter.  I know this.  I'm bummed she knows this, but it is truth.  She already knows things it's taken me decades to figure out.  Of course theres a flip side to that, but that's niether here nor there.

One of hardest things for me about aging is shedding my sensitivity and just letting go.  There is so much in my life that is out of my control.
I feel it everyday when I know I am pouring myself into my kid who struggles to behave and make good choices.  I can't choose for her.
I see it when I spend a whole preschool morning cleaning and organizing only to have it undone in minutes upon the kids' return from school.
I see it when I wake up with the best of intentions, drink my coffee and then the dog barfs twice in Louise's room and the morning goes to shit.
It's hard not to feel like you're doing something wrong when life isn't perfect.

But my making can be all mine.  I can draw the lines the way I want them and choose the colors as I see fit (unless it's a color by number which I honestly find incredibly satisfying..."look! I'm doing it RIGHT!!!")
It's something I've worked hard at learning to do well, something I'm always learning at.  It's probably the one thing in my life that I feel a spark of pride in.  Yes I did make that.  I NEEDED to make that.

So here's to this next season.  I think I'm finally ready for it.