When my girls were little, I sometimes came up with creative ways to occupy them when I was sick.  Between problem pregnancies and long-term illnesses, I spent a lot of time on the couch with little girls who were not the type to sit still and watch Sesame Street.

One of the ways I used to occupy them was to let them draw on the bottoms of my feet.  I’d give Victoria washable markers and she’d doodle halfway up my leg while I got to rest and not fall down or throw up for a little while.

(I still remember how idiotic I felt at the prenatal appointment when I stripped down and then realized I was decorated up to my knees in toddler art and had forgotten to wash it off!)

I still use the busywork trick.

Tuesday night, I really wanted to watch a television show.  My boys were bored so I sat Alex at the top of the couch with me and 25 Matchbox cars and Jack at the end of the couch with washable markers.

For a good twenty minutes, I lined up fire trucks and convertibles with one little boy while another enthusiastically decorated me.

On my right foot was a series of… well, I have no idea, but upside down they look a bit like a weird smiley face.  And on the left… I was orange.  Jack decided he wanted to make me an alien.

It worked.  I watched my show, the boys played and were happy (before moving on to the next busywork — even doing graffiti on Mom only works so long), and I’m pretty sure most of it was non-toxic.

And then today… I kept meaning to take a bath or jump in the shower but one thing after another happened.  And so I took a walk around the neighborhood with two little boys and decorated feet.  I drove to the lawnmower repair shop and rode along to the car repair shop to see about air conditioning.  I gardened and chased the kids outside.  I said “hi” to the passing teenagers.

All with these feet.

(Blue toenails courtesy of Annalee, who offered me a free spa treatment and pedicure the same night.)

My left foot kept scaring me throughout the day.  I’d forget about it all and then catch sight of that and think I’d missed some sort of terrible accident.

Even after I finally got that bath, my left foot is still pale orange.  And the brown heart appears to be permanent.  I’m surprisingly unconcerned, though.  It kind of makes me smile.

I can’t imagine what our townspeople must think of me.  🙂


Filed under the little stuff

9 responses to “Certifiable

  1. Lovely. I’ll have to try that.

  2. Funny, b/c my kids absolutely love to draw on me as well. I try to keep it contained to areas I can hide but sometimes they get carried away. It’s kind of like giving them permission to do something they’re not supposed to do!! Super fun.

  3. sarah

    My husband lets the kids “tattoo” his back and stomach all the time. It was a great way to get my son interested in writing his letters!!

  4. Marvelous! I love your colorful feet — they make me smile… One thing I see around here (at school drop off, the grocery store, the coffee store) is the occasional mom, all dressed for work in an elegant suit, nice shoes, a fancy leather briefcase and… a colorful pasta necklace strung on an old piece of yarn… (makes me wonder, now, whether any of those elegant moms have decorated feet under their elegant, opaque stockings?)

  5. YOU ARE MY HERO!!!!!!

  6. I love it! I have blue toenails right now myself. 🙂

  7. Joanne

    I have only just stumbled upon this site and I have sat here for near on 2 hours laughing out loud and crying uncontrollably at poems, blogs, toddlers… Tomorrow when my 3 year old wakes I’m not going to watch him stare out of the window at his new trampoline getting soaked in the rain, I’m going to stick on our rain coats and bounce the morning away. THANK YOU! x

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s