Today, I cried in front of the fridge OR Confessions of a Single Toddler Mom, Part 1

Oh hey.

I know y’all didn’t miss that little blurb at the top where I told you this would be a place for mom truths. Just like every other woman who’s had the pleasure of pushing out a tiny human, I am sure to remind most people of it often, because the reality is that my child is 97% of my life. (For those of you struggling with math, that leaves a measly 3% for myself, and I choose to spend it complaining, trying to appropriately caffeinate, binge watching true crime shows and stand-up comedy on Netflix - shout out to Ali Wong, who is the realest MVP - and folding tiny socks. Oh, and there’s a little painting and creating in there somewhere.)

Just like anything else about being an adult, what they don’t tell you when you decide to have a kid, no matter your situation, is that it is hard af, and our mothers basically deserve a Purple Heart for their sacrifice and their service. Seriously. Or whoever raised you, whether it be a wolf or a grandmother or a father. I really think that parents should make the millions reserved for professional athletes. Our job is like fifty thousand times harder.

So, here’s my reality. And yes, I did choose it. Don’t think I don’t know this. For one second. My reality looks like: I am a single mom. And when I say this, people have this idea of what that means because of the family dynamic of the world that we live in today, and that’s just...not my personal experience of single motherhood. I’m not a single mom in the “gets-child-support-splits-custody-baby-mama-drama-baby-daddy-ridiculousness” sense. I’m a single mom in the “doing-it-herself” sense. While, yes, I am certainly luckier than some in that I have the support of my mother, who watches my son while I work one of my jobs, it has its moments where it is extremely lonely and incredibly overwhelming. On top of working two jobs and trying to run a business to keep my bills paid, I have the huge responsibility of creating this little future human: I have to teach him, play with him, care for him, inspire him, and love him.

It sounds like something that should just be...second nature almost. The idea of having a  “maternal nature” is such that mothers experience a great deal of shame from a lot of sources for their humanity. “Mom-shaming” is a huge, HUGE unfortunate reality and, personally, I believe it has to fucking stop. Unless you are beating or severely neglecting your kids, you feel free to do you, honey. March to the beat of whatever drummer your family is going to. Be super organic, be super into fast food, be into pageants, be into this that or the other thing, just be a good human and raise a good human, and we good. While I may be sassy and snarky myself, anyone who knows me will tell you that I am like a human blow pop...once you get past that outer seemingly impenetrable layer, I am slightly squishy inside. I try to love people, but once I decide people are unloveable, I’m over it and the honesty comes out. As far as my son, I am doing my best to raise a kind human who loves everybody, and so far, all signs point to me being on the right track. That’s all I have come to expect from other moms, and all I think we can realistically be held responsible for. 

Oh, wait, also - vaccinate your kids.  #herdimmunitysaveslivesyall

That being said, some of my mom moments are unique to my experience. Where my friends may have a spouse or a co-parent to kind of help them shoulder certain burdens, I don’t have that luxury. When my son is particularly crazy, I have to be the bad guy and the good guy all at once. I have late nights and really early mornings. I work late at night and often have to get up in the middle of the night to take him to the bathroom.  I’m the one getting up every morning and doing homework and packing lunch and doing all the laundry and kissing the boo boos and laying down the law and all that shit that parenting entails.

And I won’t lie to you: it is sometimes incredibly fucking lonely.

My kid could be sickeningly sweet and some days I have just about had it. There are moments where, no matter how hard I try, I just want to run away. Moments where I wonder how it is possible to love someone so much but also want to punt them. Moments where I have actually used the words “I would literally sell you on the black market:” happen in the same hour as moments where I just look at him in wonder and go “wow. I made that.”

 While I have said before, and will tell anyone who cares to hear me how grateful I am that I have my mother and our “village”, so to speak, it is not the same as having a true partner in parenting this child. There is no one I can turn to in those moments of awe and know that we created this little person together and that he is a piece of the best of each of us - and, at times, the worst of each of us. When I feel like ripping my hair out and just need a minute, I can not ask his father to take over so I can excuse myself. Instead, I have found my own methods of coping in those moments…most of the time.

But today…today, I cried into the open refrigerator.
Today, I cried into the refrigerator because I felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility and just how heavy that is. Today, I cried while looking for creamer on the shelves because my son had been going non stop since getting up before my early alarm. Today, I cried into the fridge because I have to work both jobs, which means a thirteen hour plus day, and even though he’s at school for six of those hours, it’s a long day, and just thinking about it is exhausting. Today, I cried before nine in the morning because I didn’t know what else to do. Today, I cried.

And you know what?
Tomorrow, I might cry, too.

There’s nothing saying I will, and nothing saying I won’t. But I told myself when I started doing this whole blogging thing that I wanted to be a hundred percent up front with y’all. And this post might not appeal to my entire audience. Which is cool. It’s swell. It’s just fine. But maybe there’s a mom out there who needed to know she wasn’t the only one who feels like she’s just fucking drowning some days, no matter how infatuated she is with her kid, or how focused she is on their care and keeping.

So, this one is for you, mom.
Keep ya head up, boo.

Catch y’all on the flip side.
Yours in creepiness,

Rachface

 

#THISISNOTAFONT OR “Why my soul dies a little every time someone tells me I write so nicely”

“You move paint from side to side really accurately! Well done!” 

 ”Man, I love how you apply heat to chicken and splash it with sauce.”

”You slightly adjust words to go with a tune so efficiently, though, man!” 

 ...do you see the trend here?
if not, you are cordially invited to GTFO.

You wouldn’t say any of these things to a painter, or a chef, or a musician. (And if you would, see the above statement, because I literally do not want to know who you are and I do not have time for your shenanigans in my life or anyone else’s, thank you.) So why, PLEASE TELL ME WHY, do you keep saying things like “what font is this?” & “nice writing!” To my fellow letterers and I?! 

I mean, I know the answer to this but I’m going to tell you why and make it easy: because no one taught you any different.

But that’s (kind of) okay.
It won’t be okay anymore after you’ve read this post, but right now, I can let it slide. 

Sadly, though, it’s true. I’m not going to wax too philosophical about our society and the value it places on the arts because that’s another unfortunate reality, and I could probably write a whole book about it if I wanted to, but like, who really has the time for that anyway? Art, in general, is completely underrated, and lettering as an art is something that more people need to understand and celebrate. Cause...I don’t know if you know this guys, but what we do is HARD AF.  

Sure, there are a lot of people who make it look easy. 
Take Stefan Kunz, for example. He’s a fucking master, and his art is unbelievable. He makes it look effortless and super easygoing, when in fact, all his work is the end result of the same thing that being good at anything, in any field, requires.

Know what that is? 
Hard work, patience, persistence, and a whole lot of fucking practice.

I am SURE that he has put in hours and hours over the years of getting things just right, and as an artist STILL DOES THIS. No matter what level of game you got, practice is still a vital skill and an important part of being good at anything you have passion for. You think Nick Foles sits on his ass and shit like the Philly Special just happens?! Nah, son. (Side note: BDN, the city of Philadelphia loves you, and you’re amazing, and don’t leave us, cause Carson Wentz has made it clear that you’re our blessing kthanksnotbye.)

So since there’s this thing called #NATIONALHANDWRITINGDAY that is fast approaching (rumor has it it’s January 23rd, in case you wanted a random useless little factoid), I thought I would do some edifying for you about a few things. The first, I’ve already kind of explained. And that is that this shit doesn’t just happen. If you’ve read my bio then you know I spent years and years already obsessed with lettering, so I had a basis for it, but you can bet your ass as time has gone on, I’ve gotten better. Like anything, especially in the art field, it has taken time to develop my own individual style, to discover my favorite ways to do things, and, guess what? Here’s the thing no one will tell you (actually, that’s a lie, we are all pretty honest and transparent about this, but it sounds good and official so I’m leaving it in): I AM STILL LEARNING. EVERY DAY.

And that’s true of anything you want to be good at. There’s always something new to learn or experience. Always a new medium to explore, especially in the art world. I learn new tricks digitally every time I buy another damn procreate brush. I learn something new about watercolor almost constantly, because they are all so incredibly different, no matter how incredible or handmade or lovely they are.  

But the kicker, guys, is you can take that and apply it to any career field, really. As time marches on, things change and evolve, and you have to change with them. That’s why - great example here cause they are fucking superheroes - nurses are required to take continuing education credits and keep their license current. (My baby sister is a nurse, shout out to her for being one of the realest MVPs on the planet, nurses rock.) Ever had a TERRIBLE professor and realize that they became that way once they got tenure? Picking up what I’m putting down there? You gotta stay fresh. Stay educated. Stay hungry. Otherwise, you get lazy and boring, and someday, you’ll be speaking in a monotone a la Ben Stein, and no one will even want to be friends with you, let alone help you succeed. 

So, now that we’ve talked about that, I can mosey on down to my next point. 
Which is this: YOU SEE LETTERING LITERALLY EVERYWHERE.

You may or may not have a good grasp on this one,  

You know that pretty logo for a store or brand you like? There’s a letterer or graphic designer that studied different styles of it to make that happen. That cute little sign at Hobby Lobby (FEHHHHHH. FYI those mass produced signs are the reasons lots of people don’t wanna pay lettering artists what they’re worth, so shop small, seriously. And if that isn’t in your budget, don’t be a sheep anyway, cause when you say BAAAAA I say HUMBUG.) for your bathroom? Lettering. The graffiti you drive past on the freeway? LETTERING. Even the road signs. Carefully. Chosen. Lettering.

It’s all around you, so you might as well call it what it is. 
Now, for the most part, is it written by hand? Yes. So you can say that. But we still prefer to say things are “handlettered”.

Just cause we like pens and shit, and paintbrushes make us giddy, doesn’t mean we cant be bougie AF okurrrrrrr?! 

So, the next time you see a lettering video that soothes you, or a piece by an artist you really love, if your reaction is still “omg your handwriting is so pretty!” Or “what font is that?” 

 

Smack yourself. 

Then come re read this shit.
But until then, keep it creepy, y’all. 

 

Rachface, over and out.  

Oh. Hi. It me.

Finally, it’s here. Launch day.

Is it perfect? Nah. SO MUCH WORK still needs to be done here. So much needs to be added. So much needs to be tweaked. I have to learn so fucking much still. But I pulled the trigger anyway.

Wanna know why?

Cause you can NOT just jump in halfway. And I was tired of doing just that. I’ve officially been paying for this website for like seven months, and each month would come and go and I would abandon editing things because I get frustrated easily, and technology is annoying af. But guess what?

Technology isn’t going to stop frustrating me until I learn it and practice with it. Time is not going to stop for me just cause I want it to.

So I had to decide if I was all in or not, and you know what y’all?

I AM SO FUCKING ALL IN.
So is this site everything it’s going to be? Nah. I’m gonna keep working and working at it. But it’s a start. And that’s the first step.

Happy to have ya, bitches.
Take a look around.
Oh, and happy Monday.

Creepin’ it real as always.

Love,
Rachel