A Brief History of Mother’s Day Drawings

My wife badgered me about Mother’s Day something fierce this year.

“You always do it,” she said. “Every two years.”

“Every two years,” I said. “I don’t remember committing to that. I don’t have any ideas this year.”

“It’s my favorite thing. Please?”

That was the first conversation about five weeks ago. We revisited the conversation every few days after that, and each time I insisted that just because I did a cartoon drawing of our family every two years in the past, that didn’t constitute a promise for the future. Erin was not persuaded. In her mind, I will be doing these drawings until the day I die. Maybe even after that.

So, I gave in. I did another drawing, I gave it to her this morning, she gushed, and Facebook nodded their collective approval. And then I sat down to write this blog and I discovered I’d been swindled.

I have literally NEVER made Erin a cartoon family Mother’s Day drawing two years after the previous one. I’ve drawn one four years after the previous one, and I’ve drawn one three years after the previous one, but until today I have never put myself through the hours and hours of work it takes to make these thing a scant two years after the previous one.

Well played, Erin.

* * *

This is more for me than anyone else.

I put a lot more thought into these drawings than it may first appear. I see them as capturing a moment in time, and I try to fill them with details that speak to their respective moments. Thought it might be fun to try to do a little recapturing. Let’s go back 9 years.



Full disclosure: this drawing makes me cringe. Literally, the only thing I think I pulled off well was my own face. Everything else is garbage. My opinion.

Subsequent Mother’s Day drawings would stick to a “sitting on the couch” theme (my wife calls them “couch drawings”), but with this first one I didn’t have anything like that in mind. I just wanted to do a drawing of my family and I wanted it to be simple and I wanted it to say something.

2007 was a rough, rough year for my little family. Cami, our youngest, was just 2-years-old. Very shortly after she was born in 2005, we discovered she had some severe physical and mental disabilities that, honestly, even as I type this eleven years later, still does not feel totally real.

In 2007, Erin, my wife, was not okay. It would be another three years before she could totally accept Cami’s differences and in the meantime she filled her days with doctor visits, physical therapy sessions, trips to specialists in San Francisco, battles with the school district, and just trying to remain positive and healthy in the face of the realization of her greatest fear. We just wanted to know what was wrong with Cami. We wanted a diagnosis because the limbo of not knowing is a true, ugly, tear-filled Hell. We never got that diagnosis, and it took a long time to come to terms with that. This drawing was made when we were still in the thick of the pain.

I drew us happy and smiling. I drew Erin and I protecting and encircling our two girls. Our world was small at the time, and intentionally so. The more we kept to ourselves and away from the reminders of how different and disabled Cami was (i.e. all other typical children and their parents), the happier we were.

Cami did this thing back then where if you asked her how big she was, she’d raise her arms up high. Elora, our oldest, was an adorable, typical four-year-old with one killer dimple. Erin, apparently, had anime eyes. I had a big, floppy wave of hair. A lot of that would change.



This is a bit more like it. The first “couch drawing” came just after we had finally become the family we were supposed to be as Violet’s arrival that year opened up the world in a way we didn’t expect. Suddenly, the family and Erin’s attentions weren’t all about Cami anymore. This was needed. The hyper focus on Cami and her needs left little opportunity for Erin to actually be a mother like she wanted to be. Violet, a bright, sparkly breath of fresh air, gave Erin a chance to step back from Cami and get reconnected to her as a mom and not just as her doctor or therapist or teacher or lawyer or any other of the thousands of roles she was asked to play for Cami’s sake.

I decided to depict both Erin and Cami, 6,  as extremely happy. Cami had just gotten her haircut and donated her hair to charity, so she had this crazy cute short cut. In her hand is a duck toy she played with constantly… whose name I can’t remember now. Cami is a champion fidgeter and always needs something to whip back or forth or she’s just not happy.

Erin is holding Violet, 3 mo., who was basically a lump of smiley humanity at that point. She didn’t give me much to work with. I generally try to depict us in the actual clothes we wore at the time, but for some reason I chose to have Erin wear the shoes she was wearing when I first met her back in 1998. Somehow, I still remembered what they looked like.

Elora, 8, was big into peace signs at the time, and a fashion style we not-so-lovingly referred to as “hobo chic”. The child had nice clothes, but she refused to wear them in nice combinations. Since I was the artist, I chose to put her in her most fashionable outfit she had, but it certainly wasn’t how she always looked. Now, I kind of wish I had given her something a little more accurate and ratty.

As for me, I look way cooler than I actually did at the time. The frayed pants and sweet shoes are very true to the too-long pants and wife-selected shoes I wore at the time, but I hate, hate, hate clothes shopping. I generally hate all my clothes about two seconds after buying them. So, in this drawing I’m wearing a shirt I have never actually owned. But I thought it would be cool if I did, so…



Everything was going so well that year. In the time between this and the previous drawing, I’d been promoted to Art Director at work, Erin had started doing work as an on camera talent at the same company, we bought a new house, Elora was elected as Student Body President, Cami found a place to call just her own at the Heart of the Horse Therapy Ranch, and Violet was Violet. And there’s no getting Violet down. Erin and I even got the chance to vacation in Europe, a first visit for both of us. It was an incredible time.

I let Elora, 11, choose her own outfit for the drawing. It’s hard to tell, but her shirt depicts a dog riding a surfboard. It was her favorite. I have no idea why. She was also really into fluffy skirts and tutus at the time.

Cami, 9, experienced a serious growth spurt since the last drawing, and now her fidget toy of choice was a little Brobee (from Yo Gabba Gabba) doll. Her shirt shows off her newfound love of horses after her first year as a regular rider at Heart of the Horse.

I don’t know why I never thought to put our pets into the drawing before now, but I went for it this year. Oz, our dog on the couch, will never stop licking. He’s gross. On the floor, Batman the dog chases King George the cat–a daily occurrence.

Erin is wearing my favorite t-shirt of hers and a necklace with the first letter of each of our kids’ names on it. The necklace is tiny, but if you zoom in you can actually see it. Even though she was working part-time for the first time since Elora was born, she’d really come into her own as a mom and the pains and trials of yesteryear had developed into a strength. She’s an amazing woman.

Once again, save for the pants and shoes, I’m not actually wearing what I wore at the time. Also, I lost a lot of hair between the last drawing and this one, so I pushed my hairline back a bit and shortened it. I’ve also got a bit more going on in the chin–as in, I’m doubling it up a bit. Just a bit though.

Violet was a crazy person two years ago. Still is. She’s a spunky little thing and climbing around on the couch like a little gremlin absolutely fit her.



Here it is, the drawing I gave to Erin just this morning.

Hoo-boy. Shortly after the last drawing the world blew up. My wife and I both lost our jobs within 24 hours of each other and we’ve been rebuilding ever since. Going back over these drawings, I’m impressed by the ebb and flow of life. Ups and downs are just part and parcel, but in revisiting them I’m impressed by how much that plays out over the long term. It gives me hope, honestly, that we’ll be back on top in no time… and then we’ll probably fall again, somehow. This is just the way things work. There’s comfort in that.

This couch is crowded, and that’s even after having taken off the dog from last time. I’ve drawn us more closely together, like we’re circling the wagons a little bit. We endure our challenges and trials together.

Elora, 13, is quite the poised young woman now and I needed to find some way to represent that, so I gave her a regal pose. She’s only an inch shorter than Erin now, and I think you can pretty much tell that just from this drawing. Once again, she picked out her own outfit.

Cami, 11, I chose to keep largely the same, save for a little weight gain. Cami looks like she’s five or six years old. She’s a bit perpetually frozen in time. Her shirt reads “Team Happy” and that’s the effect Cami has on people, and certainly on us. Last Fall, she donated her hair again, so she’s back to the short hair.

Our pets are no longer allowed on the couch, so they’re all stuck on the floor. Oz is particularly saddened by this.

Erin has returned to school this year to get her Master’s Degree in Communication. She’s our professional, so now she gets a dark, professional look (this drawing is darker overall, which I think fits with how beaten up we all feel at this point). At her feet is her book bag. Also, after having drawn it on the wrong side for the past two drawings, I finally got the part in her hair going the right way.

I’m dressed like an 8th Grade boy, which is accurate to how I dress right now as I fulfill my role as a stay-at-home dad and work on various projects. The hat I wear has the Tremendum Pictures logo on it, where I work (mostly at home) as a writer (among other things). My shirt is actually a real shirt, one of very few I enjoy wearing. I don’t really care that it says Batman, I just like the fit. My shoes, you’ll notice, are the same from last time. My wardrobe is deteriorating. My hate for clothes shopping coupled with our financial challenges leaves me with little motivation to improve or update my wardrobe. Also, you can barely tell in the drawing, but my temples are now gray.

Violet has been just OBSESSED with Star Wars this past year, and particularly with Rey. She actually does own and wear this costume, and she has a light saber, too. Her enthusiasm is adorable. Even if she grows out of it later, the is the Star Wars year. (The fever extends to Cami as well. They’re the only movies she asks for and her new fidget toy is a little Stormtrooper.)

* * *

Just to bring it back, I’m so grateful for my amazing wife and for this little family we’ve managed to create together. Giant, giant Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there! You do a great work.

I get asked all the time what I charge for “couch drawings.” They’re labor intensive and not cheap (ex. I’d have charged about $500 for this latest one), but if you’re interested in exploring the possiblity, feel free to drop me a line at bwhheasley (at) gmail (dot) com. 


Day 33 – How Not to Give a Job Interview

On August 28th, my wife lost her job. 24 hours later, I lost mine. This blog is a continuation of the day-by-day chronicling of our emotional journey back to employment. This is bound to be upsetting, hilarious and hopeful.

Tuesday – September 30, 2014

DSC00186Erin had her third interview today, and by far her worst. The gentleman–let’s call him “Dude”–was crazy rude. Dude began the interview by tossing out the “boring,” prepared questions in favor of the brilliant questions in all of his impetuous, prepared-5-seconds-ago wisdom. Dude had things he wanted to know about.

Dude began by asking Erin about her car, and whether it was nice enough to transport clients around in. When she told him what she was driving, he thought about it a minute, clearly trying to figure out what a “Scion” is before deciding “Hmm, yeah, that should be okay.”

He then asked if Erin was okay with crass jokes and crude language. Not that they’re unprofessional, but things can get a little blue. They like to have fun, y’know. Erin responded about as tactfully as possible by saying that while she does not choose to participate in such behavior, she respects the right others have to conduct themselves as they wish. Dude no doubt noted that she “couldn’t hang.”

Dude looked at Erin’s resume and announced out loud that Dude is used to interviewing people with more sales experience. By now, Erin was wondering, on multiple levels, what she was even doing there in the first place. If she had any doubts about whether or not she even wanted the job, they were solidified when Dude asked how she planned on balancing a full-time job with three kids at home. Erin’s not a lawyer, but that felt a tad illegalish.

Interviewers, you don’t do this. I don’t care how cliched “Where do you see yourself in five years?” might be, it’s better than outing your company as a well-funded frat party.

* * *

The big, huge, huge, HUGE news today is that my blog, Day 1 – Double Unemployment was selected by the WordPress editors as a “Freshly Pressed”. Meaning they really like it and went out of their way to share it with others. It’s an unexpected honor and, not gonna lie, a nice piece of validation. It’s been a ton of fun watching all the new people coming in and discovering what I’m doing over here in this little corner of the internet. A lot of you seem to like what you’re seeing enough to stick around. This is only cool.

* * *

Technically, today started at about 3:30am when I went to bed. My normal bedtime seems to be between 2am and 3am, which is insane but only about an hour off from my “employed” bedtime. I always go into the kids’ rooms before laying down for the night, just to check on them and make sure they’re okay. I found Violet sleeping sweetly with all the junk on her bed artfully arranged, so I took this picture:

Don't let her angelic repose fool you, that is our demon Muppet.

Don’t let her angelic repose fool you, that is our demon Muppet.

Erin woke up to find my Facebook post about it and retaliated by taking this photo while I slept in:


That was only fair.

* * *

Other Artistic Endeavors Postscript:

When I’m not writing and applying, I’m filling my days by doing freelance projects. I completed two projects today, including some more of the bizarre work I can’t explain. This Two-Face piece I might have gone a little too far with:


This is the other piece I turned in, a riff on the client’s wife’s misunderstanding of the song “Nights in White Satin” by The Moody Blues.


I didn’t know the song at all, but the idea for the drawing cracked me up. Today, for the first time, I actually bothered to listen to the song. I can kind of hear her version. It’s certainly much funnier.

Holocaust Remembrance Day (and Other Funny Cartoons)

I wonder constantly how my children process this world they’ve been born into. I feel very in touch with my own childhood perspective, but my kids are not me. Our oldest, Elora (9), has my penchant for sarcasm and big words, but she’s much more self-assured and creative than I was. She sees everything as an art project.

Here’s her latest (click to enlarge):

To me, a calendar tells me what day it is. To Elora, it’s an opportunity to highlight the things that are most important to her and illustrate her life. April Fool’s Day gets a “ha ha!” Earth Day gets a drawing of the Earth with what looks like little kids around it. And Holocaust Remembrance Day gets…

Wait, what is that? Let’s take a closer look:

Confused, this morning I asked Elora what she had drawn. We’ve talked about Hitler and the Nazis before after watching some Twilight Zone episodes, but I couldn’t remember ever talking to her about the Holocaust. Judging by the thought bubble in the drawing, it looked to me like she’d worked out that April 19th is a day for pondering. What’s more, the sad, downcast face of the girl in the picture seemed to indicate that Elora had some idea that this wasn’t the day for thinking happy thoughts.

But what’s in the thought bubble? To me, it looked like a hole and a person about to jump into it. Elora set me straight.

“It’s a little kid playing kickball.”

“What?” I asked. “Why?”

“Because that’s what we did that day at school when I drew it.”

Basically, she had no clue what the Holocaust was and filled in the blank with the first thing that popped across her mind, effectively making Holocaust Remembrance Day into that day when we reflect sadly upon the tragedy of  lost kickball games.

I explained to her what the Holocaust actually is and, knowing Hitler to be a pretty messed up dude, she accepted it without surprise and got dressed for school.

What strange thought avenues did your childhood filter lead you to? I remember seeing the blinking red light of a jet plane in the night sky on Christmas Eve and being convinced it was Rudolph. Took me years to work through that one. Got one of your own?