It's not a fifth grade vocabulary assignment, it's what I feel about the advent of my mom's art website- finally.

My mom's been an artist longer than she's been a mother, more than two-thirds of her life. Her work is varied, but skilled, and has not gotten a lot of exposure because she's buried herself so much in the family business and the art of child rearing.



Well, now she is a single grandmother, still busy with the store, but she is in a time in her life when it is good to dial back that career and just wrap herself in what she does best. So we built her a website- mostly Michael, of course :)


Isn't her work just lovely? Of course, I'm biased- but who wouldn't be?

So, if you have a chance, check out her website. It's called Alla Prima Lady. For those of you not familiar with the art terminology, alla prima is a painting technique in which the layers of paint are applied all at once, in one sitting, while the paint is still wet. This is not the procedure she uses all of the time, but the name has another layer of meaning that I won't go into here.

You'll find a lot of Native American art, as that part of her heritage has long interested and inspired her. You'll also find florals, Americana, astronomy and surrealism. You'll find acrylic, oil, watercolor, and charcoal. Some of her pieces have structure- a shell sticking out of an oceanscape, jewels on a peacock's tail...

It's a big step for her, so stop on by and welcome her to the internet.

All images © 1987-2008 Karen Roncari

Labels: art, artisan, mom, painting, website

I bring my three-year old to work with me most days. This is, of course, slightly stressful for both myself and her, but somehow it works.
She has two little play stations in the jewelry store, with bins of LEGO blocks, books, toys, and crayons. I spend my lunch breaks reading books to her, and the other employees hang out with her as they can. Michael works with me, so the burden of childcare is seldom on my shoulders alone.
One or two days a week, Michael works from home, and Kid #3 stays with him, with the full run of the house until her sisters come tromping in from school. Soon I will be working from home one day a week as well, so Kid #3 will spend a maximum of 3-4 days in the store.
She's only three, so I don't really know if she is old enough to resent me for this. She seems happy enough, if a bit cooped up sometimes. She is a typical child for her age: energetic and imaginative, pushing her disciplinary boundaries and asserting her independence. She loves me to death, and I am giving her the best childhood that I can at this point in time.

So it came as a crushing blow to me the other day when someone said to me,
"I feel sorry for her."
This came from someone who has it pretty much together in the 'mom' department, and I look up to her. I spent the next couple of hours obsessing about my parenting choices, dealing with the inevitable guilt that comes when one feels like an incompetent mother.

But am I really an incompetent mother? Who writes the rules here? My children are loved, well-fed, clothed (more or less), and are getting a good education. They have periods of boredom: after school some days, odd times when they are stuck in the car or at work. But it isn't terminal. Boredom stretches the imagination and teaches patience and creativity. They invent games, dream up entire fantasy lands in their heads, and learn to occupy themselves.

Throughout history, children have played in fields while their parents plowed and gleaned, they have sat quietly through four-hour Puritan church sermons, and they have huddled in the dank underbellies of ships for months traveling to a refuge on foreign shores. Did this damage them beyond repair? No. In fact, some of our brightest contributors to the progress of the world have come from situations such as these.
Are we to bow to the slightest whim and imagined need of our offspring in order that they might grow up sheltered and pampered? Does the idyllic childhood produce perfectly adjusted adults?
I think not.

I think that children are a product of not only their environment, but of the attitude around them as well.
For example, we have moved an awful lot, as I've mentioned in previous postings. I hate doing this to our children, as well as myself, but it has always been to a better life, a brighter future for us all. On the times when my guilt really shows, the kids whine and get antsy. But on the times when Michael and I are excited, hopeful, positive- that attitude rubs off on the kids and they, in turn, are excited and positive. They have had more adventure than most kids their age, and it has grown their boundaries and broadened their horizons.

Kid #3 may not be in a structured pre-school with fingerpaints and primary colors all around her, but she learns the names of gemstones and helps me pull models out of silicon molds every Monday. She may not be with her peers, or safely tucked away in my living room, but she gets to talk to all sorts of people during the day. So, how is this going to harm her in the future? Now? As long as she gets an opportunity to run around now and then, as long as she is surrounded by love and intelligence and the ability to learn and think and grow- I think she will do just fine.

If our generation of parents continues to be enslaved to someone else's idea of how we are to raise our children, if we continue this trend of child-worship beyond practicality, we are headed for trouble.

The child who has had everything sacrificed for them their entire life will not know the value of his own sacrifice.

The child who has lived in a perfectly constructed and controlled environment will know only that which has surrounded her and will grow up stunted.

The child who rules the household will always rule. We are given our children to raise for eighteen years, and then they are on their own. Not that we cannot ever be a parent to them again, but they have to find their own way from there. Our culture is even now reaping the horrific consequences of a generation raised too self-centric: parents my own age are abandoning their children at an alarming rate while pursuing their own lives.

Tomorrow I'll get up and feed three kids, pack lunches, and drop the older two off at school. I'll drag Kid #3 into the store with me, try to keep her happy and occupied and fed and clean and out of trouble, carve some jewelry, wait on some customers, and somehow make it through the day.

Then I'll do it all over again on Thursday. And it's all going to be ok.

Labels: career, child rearing, children, guilt, life, mom, motherhood, work