Happy Monday, all.  Despite the rain and unbearable humidity, it was a nice weekend all around!  As usual, I didn’t finish half of the chores on my ongoing weekend list, but we did get to see some girlfriends from home and enjoy a nice day in the City.

Jeff’s request for nothingness allowed for a lazy Sunday filled with intermittent naps while we hid from the rain.  By the end of the day, Jack and I were both whiny and cranky, but nothing a trip to the park couldn’t cure.  Jack must be getting another new tooth  very soon because he keeps grinding his teeth and was especially irritable yesterday afternoon.  While the crying and restlessness is nothing new, combine that with futile attempts at sleep training and you get one bitchy mama.  Though I missed celebrating with my own dad, Jack and I did what we could to ensure Jeff had a nice first Father’s Day.

And the Pièce de résistance of the weekend… Anyone a fan of Jackson Pollack?  Wouldn’t you know,  we have our own expressionist artist also named Jackson.
Jack “made” Jeff a shirt for Father’s Day.  Inspired by something I saw online, I thought I’d channel my forgotten dreams of being a studio artist through my son.  Letting an 8month old go nuts with some fabric paint is always a good idea. He likes to destroy things anyway, so why not capture it on a t-shirt.  Since Jeff bleeds NY Mets pride, we chose a fine spectrum of blue, orange and white. As someone who was only allowed to play with Play Doh in the kitchen, it was liberating (and crazy), I must say.   It was fun letting the kid get filthy in the name of “art.”  That’s what baths are for, right?

In between snatching the non toxic paints OUT of his mouth and thus, getting the paints on my fingers (legs and hair, too) and avoiding disaster on our already stained carpet, most of the pictures are blurry.  I forgot to upload all the pix and the final outcome, but I’ll be sure to post them tomorrow.

Jeff smiled and politely thanked the baby artist “Aw buddy, this is exactly what I’ve been looking for.”  I’m completely biased, but the final result was chaotic perfection.

Admiring his work