Art Therapy Monster

Lately I've been enjoying learning a little about art therapy and practicing some interventions on myself. Toward those ends, I read all the blogs by art therapists I can find (and I wish more of them blogged as I haven't found all that many). However, the few I do read are pretty awesome and today one of them, Carolyn Mehlomakulu, did a post on metaphorizing problems into monsters via art media of some kind. Rather than elaborate on the dynamics here by quoting too extensively, I'll link to the post in question and encourage people to go have a read. It's interesting stuff.

At any rate, thus was I inspired to create Fran The Tired Monster.

Let me tell you about my monster. I have three children under three. (Well, one of them won't be born for another few months yet, but she still has all kinds of ways of making her presence very much known. So practically speaking, I feel I have three under three already.) I've always wanted at least a few kids and I think there are advantages to having them close in age. Realistically, though, I expect that most of those advantages are things we will be experiencing more in the years to come. Right now, I love my babies bunches but I'm tired a lot.

It so happened that I was particularly tired by the time I got some time to myself today, as I'm fighting off a cold and so is Little Guy, and neither kid was good about taking a nap this afternoon (erm, is this all starting to sound too Dickensian)? I ended up hiring the teeenager across the street for an hour of babysitting so I could rest. Whilst relaxing and skimming the feeds on my google reader, I came across the post mentioned above and thought, "Ah, yes, this is what I will do right now. Make a portrait of my monster of woe."

And so, here is Fran, poor girl:

I didn't actually finish her by the time the kids came home, but that was okay because I set Bear up with some art supplies and we worked together companionably for a bit while Little Guy played on the floor. It was kind of fun-- blending feelings of self pity and humor into an understanding monster that I now have some affection for.

 I think, after the kids are settled for bed, Fran and I will satisfy a pregnancy craving and treat ourselves to a bowl of mint chocolate chip icecream. With vanilla wafers and whipped cream and bananas. Now that is the way to make friends with a monster. :)

Ciao.

Morally Questionable Behavior

Today's post will be a story about my two year old. :-)

Earlier today Bear, Little Guy, and I were playing in the living room. After a little while Bear wandered into the kitchen, and soon I was hearing tell tale sounds of dishes clattering and liquids being poured from one cup to another. Now, Bear is allowed to help unload the dishwasher and to wash dishes with me from time to time (which she loves), but she is well aware that making unauthorized messes in the kitchen is prohibited, if not always strictly enforced.

"Bear!" I called from the living room.

"Yes?"

"Are you engaging in morally questionable behavior?" (She doesn't know what that means, but I'm pretty sure she recognized from my tone that she was being interrogated as to her actions.)

A moment of silence, then. . .

"Yes."

"Well, maybe you should come back into the living room with us and stop engaging."

Bear soon reappeared,  clutching a coffee cup with a little cold coffee sloshing in it (yes, I hadn't done the dishes yet). She fixed me with a calmly defiant gaze and asserted coolly, "My not stop engaging."

It was cute, there is no denying. I tried not to laugh, and instead meet her gaze with the tolerantly skeptical look of one secure in their authority, smiling while ordering, "Bear, go put that cup back in the kitchen."

It actually worked. If only all our power struggles were negotiated this simply. Meanwhile, it really is fun to use big words with her and watch how she incorporates them into her vocabulary. Maybe she'll be reproaching Little Guy for his morally questionable behavior the next time he tries to play with her toys. :-)