Why I Can't Be Martha Stewart

Oh I can try to be Martha.  My mother was Martha.  My mother had the most immaculate house, always.  My mother whipped up amazing meals, always.  My mother could come in from the barn, smelling like manure, and within a half hour, be clean and shiny, with fresh lipstick on, smelling like a rose, looking beautiful.

Thank God we don't have a barn. 

But I do have a three year old budding artist.........

...a naturalist as well!

My son Sean took this photo.  Instead of coming to tell me what his sister was doing.  But he did come out to the kitchen with the camera and say "Mom you should look at these". 

Mom was not too impressed.  Miss Evie had some clean-up to do afterwards, which she did willingly.  No remorse really, although she said her usual "Sorry Mom", which is coming out of her mouth a little too easily these days.  Meaning that yes, she needs to apologize for these things, but I honestly don't think she saw anything wrong with it.  The world is her canvas!

In the meantime, I have to go whip up a souffle or some other exotic Martha dish just to keep my hand in.