Summer Update

Today I spent a moment pining for those days of summer in high school when I didn't really have a lot going on and I could read and float around on a raft in my grandparents' pool. I really miss floating around in a quiet pool reading all day, but that would be obvious, no?

I also spent a moment catching my breath and thinking about how I spend my days now. Recently, both of my wee ones have started the same school, with the same drop off and pick up times, five days a week. For the first time in years, I have several uninterrupted hours without a child asking me for something just about every day. Of course, I still have a million and one things to get done, but just having the chance to have a quiet house for three hours straight when I want is joy. Joy!

At the same time that there is this joy, there is actually a lot to get done in a day. Even this morning, I left the house with the boys after making them lunch, and was on a constantly-moving errand running schedule for the next three hours. Bloodowork, shower accessory shopping, FedEx drops (two locations), mini-storage tour, traffic times ten... When I got home, there was work to be done on the computer for wrapping up the Spring fundraiser for the Waldorf school, schedules to be arranged, research on vets to be done, pest control and therapists to call...  And I suppose blogs to write.

At the moment it's only about 2pm, so I feel like I have gotten a good amount done today. At the same time, I still have to figure out dinner, take Henry to dance class, and keep working on the cleaning up and out. I am supposed to be starting a basic whole foods cleanse today, but have not had a chance to get all my ingredients together because Bret had a really awesome last-minute opportunity to go to a bike workshop last night. Good thing the Co-op is open tomorrow! I can catch up a bit.

I've been working on embroidery projects, knitting projects, and other random craftiness. I'm cleaning out the toys, cleaning out the studio, cleaning out my drawers and bedroom - slowly but surely progressing toward that point when we move into the new addition and let the contractors seal off this end of the house and create a master suite for us (complete with walk-in closet and outdoor shower. It is going to be badass!)

We visit our new puppy on Saturday, and get to bring him home Friday, July 20. This addition is welcome, to be sure, but will be extra walks and play (and work, but that will be just fine).

We are back in the eye surgery loop, which will be a LOT of work for a few months, and makes life unpredictable, but then at the same time will eventually make life a lot more simple, and make Toby much happier with his eyes every day.

We have a lot of things happening, and a lot of things getting done. Pans in the fire, and juggling well most of the time. Hopefully I will be checking in here a lot more often soon, because I miss it. I also might start writing more about some other things, but we'll see how that goes.

For now I will just be grumpy about the fireworks that will spew heavy metals all over the fields and lakes and oceans around the USA tonight and tomorrow, and hope not too many folks get burned and blown up. I hate fireworks, which is weird, I know. So I will try to be cheerful about everything else, because even with all the craziness, everything is going great, yay!

Well, here we are in 2012, listening to hateful white men talk about hating gay men and keeping contraception away from people. What a rad start to the new year (I deleted the news apps from my phone. It's better that way, at least during the election cycle, I promise.)

In mama news, Henry is solidly potty trained. It's a hot-damn miracle. Toby, not so much. But to have just one kid pooping himself is so awesome, I can't adequately express the joy it brings.  Henry has also progressed in his ability to play in a group, interact with peers, and socialize generally with many different kids in many different situations. It's Phenomenal. He's phenomenal. He is building wacky Rube Goldberg machines everywhere he can, or at least setting up marble runs and dominoes to be knocked down. He will school you on the periodic table, but he will also come give you snuggles and love you like no other.

Toby is a maniac. He is doing great with his eyes - good pressure, good reflexes - but he has a thing about wearing contacts. He's gotten touchy about it since we switched to the RGP lenses, and his glasses are starting to fall apart. We have to check in about all of that and make sure everything is cool, and find out if strapping him down to get contacts in is a worthwhile endeavor...

Bret has been working hard at getting everything together for our home renovation, and it's awesome. He has done a lot of hard work clearing things out and getting things together, and now we begin the nitty gritty process of whittling down a number so we can sign a contract, and commit to the months of work that are to come.

I've been off again, on again sick. At the moment, I feel OK, but have absolutely no voice. And a nice cough to boot. Crimping my resolution style - no yoga for me while breathing and head down mean extreme discomfort, but thanks. Soooooon. I have managed to organize projects so that one thing gets my attention at a time, and a million projects aren't in progress or sitting in the box ready to pop out, since really only one at a time is a reasonable thing.I will make Bret his cardigan by the end of the year.

I've decided to grow my hair out for Locks of Love, since it's long (accidentally) already and I might as well have a purpose for just being lazy about the mane. Ans a reason not to on the fly go in and get it hacked off.

I'm making plans to run a 5k in July. Making plans to clean the hell out of this house and Waldorf-ize it asap. I'm going to learn more stitching, and get freaky good at that. I am going to make felt and wool toys for my kids, and for the Morning Meadow store. I a, going to create a fantasy gnome village in my playroom for Toby to enjoy, and hope Henry gets on board. I am going to make the underside of the bunk bed into a adorably stitched Solar System, and male the Alphabet for their walls. Eventually, I will get to making Henry the periodic table I promised last year.

I also plan to teach Henry how to play more games - like chess - that his Aspie friends like to play. I think it would be a great tool for him to learn to think strategically in that way, and also a good way for him to experience losing (the other kid is WAY good) and being a good sport.

So for now, we are reassessing. We are rearranging. We are prioritizing.

For me, canning jam and pickles and tomatoes and other things is way at the top of the list. But so is being present for our kids, creating things for them that are special, and engaging them on a level that is impossible when the dreaded TV is on. We are working on it. Working hard. It always feel like I'm a few steps behind my aspirations, which should be an impetus to keep moving, but has become, of late, an easy way to say, whatever. Getting past that whatever, getting into life fully, embracing my inner hippy, and finding the beauty and love that is in this community we are so lucky to have - those are my resolutions.

I also resolve to get back here more - I will revamp the schedule, but I believe that there will be a minimum of three posts a week - a homey/crafty/yummy one, a simple moment captured, and a post reflecting on motherhood, for me , and all that means. This I have to tweak as I am still setting up our family rhythm chart, and my work here has to fit into that rhythm as well. I'll be talking more about that, possibly here, possibly on a new blog chronicling our implementation of KJP Simplicity Parenting into our home and lives - have to decide what I can handle in terms of upkeep. But it will be a journey, nonetheless.

So, Happy New Year. Blessed Epiphany (how does one say that?). Welcome to the slow introduction of 2012, where things in my life and community are awesome, and where I have decided to shun all news of the nonsense playing out in crazy towns across America right now.

Love and peace, V

Open letter to myself

Dear Virginia,

Honey, you have a problem. You need to gather yourself and your books and your projects together and make a plan. You need to stop trolling craftgawker and Pinterest, stop perusing the recommendations on Amazon, stop reading newsletters and culling book titles, stop searching Ravelry for new patterns... Stop. Etsy will keep on without you.

The pile of books, both digital and physical, that you have queued up to read is staggering. The puke of projects, with and without materials, with and without looming deadlines for completion, with and without intended recipients... It's a train wreck.

So pause. Get to work. Read. Enjoy the nourishing bounty of the season with the CSA share and try some of those Nourishing Traditions recipes with the ingredients you possess.

But for Goodness' sake, chill out on the stacking or you will never get through anything currently in line. And that would be tragic, because some of it is AWESOME!!

Love, V

Mama Monday: I love these kids. So. Much.

Open Letter to Toby, on this stormy night

Dear Toby,

I know that the sudden thunderstorm that had lasted through the late afternoon into the evening has been different. We don't usually get them for so long, so I can tell you are a little shaken. You are sleeping in a new bed, and you are learning all these new words, and your imagination is running wild. But here's the thing:

Tonight is not the night to spontaneously decide that the sound of thunder is really the sound of a monster coming, and therefore terrifying. It's also not the night to start screaming this at your brother, and freaking him out a little bit (even though he really doesn't think it's a monster coming. He just doesn't like unpredictable, loud sounds, and once he's a little on edge, the sound itself freaks him out. You aren't helping).

Last night you woke us up at midnight, and got papa and Henry up for the day around 4:00am, so while YOU got a nap, no one else did and everyone else could really use a peaceful night. Of sleep. Seriously, sleep. This monster business just will not do.

So, sweet darling, enjoy the slushy sound of the rain, and the cars driving on wet roads, let the thunder rumble through you, relax and go to sleep. Please. Please. Please.

Love and kisses,
Mama

Mama Monday, Take One

Sometimes getting it together to do the things that would make me super-mama is a way bigger challenge than finding the initial inspiration. Take, for example, me desire to simplify our lives, our house, our schedule, and be more present with my kids. Has it happened in the magical way I envisioned it? Oh, hell no. Has it happened, really, at all? Maybe a tiny bit. A teeny tiny bit.

I have a list of craft projects that I *really* want to do hanging out bookmarked on my new computer, but I also have a list of books to read, things to clean, projects around the house, and other crafty projects that are not bookmarked to attend to - and that is if I have the motivation to anything other than eat ice cream and pie and watch TV. (OK, so that's just what I will probably do tonight, because I did bake a kickin' blueberry pie past night, so you know...)

I have been getting some knitting done. I have also been getting a little bit of research and organizing done to help me navigate Henry and his Aspergers. Of course, Toby has been in full time daycare the past week, and will be for the next month, and Henry has not been in school at all, so honestly scheduling has been so much easier for me. Whether it's all less stressful for the kids, eh?

I need tips from mamas or others on a few fronts, because I have these aspirations and I would really like to accomplish, and would love a little advice on making it come together:

1. Whole foods. While I would love to say that we never eat anything packaged, or take out, or crappy, we do. I am probably worse than the kids or Bret, but the reality is that our goals of not purchasing things we can make has not really worked out so well. We were doing better when we had the share from the CSA, but even then, I would hit the end of the day and not feel like cooking, and either cobble together something fast and dirty (and not generally something that Jamie Oliver would look kindly upon) or grab take out. Blech. We want to be baking bread, making cheese and yogurt, making crackers (maybe, that seems like it could be crazy-talk with my little nutters), making bagels... BUT, cooking with our crazy children around is next to impossible. By the time we hit the weekend, if Bret's inspired to make things, I've just gotten desperate for a break from being touched and whined at all the time, and hate letting him take off into the kitchen for hours. I don't really want to be in the kitchen for hours on end, in part because I am lacking in inspiration and confidence, and in part because I long for pre-kid weekends of sloth. Help me people. I need tips to inspire, and tips on freezer-ready foods! We do have a huge chest freezer, and having one cooking day a week and a few frozen-dinner-we-made-ourselves meals a week would be completely acceptable. Now if I could just get Henry to eat these things...

2. Crafting. I love knitting, handwork, needlework, blah blah - I need more time and more space for all of this craziness. I am getting better about keeping the stash manageable, and also getting better about not stockpiling too many projects because I am always finding new ones, but how do you crafty mamas do it? I see these amazing blogs, and I think to myself, "Self, these mamas cook from scratch, nourish their children's souls, look cute, make everything, and also take fashionably adorable photos of their cooking, houses, crafts, and clean children all the time. What gives?" Oh, and they have like five kids under seven to boot. Beyond the question of Who the hell are these people?, I want to know how they have the time to even create the image that they are making all this happen, and blogging about it?!?! It means that on some level the level of craftiness I want in my life must be possible, because I don't feel the need to be many of those other kinds of together, but I would like to be able to make a damn quilt once in a while.

3. Playdates. Where are you people and how can I find you? And how does anyone with children hang out with other people ever, because even with our more mellow schedule, I don't know that I could coordinate a playdate if I was getting paid to do it right now. Henry could use some more playdates, so holla!

4. General house maintenance. I feel like as we prep to do these renovations, everything is kind of falling apart. But I still need to call a plumber, possibly the alarm company, just had the phone company here, just got the AC fixed... Looking around, there are things that need painting, everything needs dusting, the exterior needs a good pressure-washing at minimum, every room could be cleaned out and reorganized. I don't have the time for any of this, let alone all of it so that we can have a nice house that's all put together. Or even a yard sale that would clear things out and also make us some money. It's like even these seemingly smaller-scale projects get swallowed in this overarching whole that is just, well, overwhelming. Not overwhelming in an end-of-the-world, or Hoarders kind of way, but just a little overwhelming. Enough to make me say a swear word under my breath and then opt to eat a piece of pie (I still need to go do that...)

So, send me your tips on whole foods (from scratch) cooking, baking, and canning, creating space for crafting, paying well with others, and generally getting my house in order. I know these are some of the ever-present mama issues, but whatever. I have to ask.

On another note, Toby and Henry are sharing "their" room for the first time tonight, so think happy thoughts for good bunk bed sleepers, with pleasant pixie dreams!

Adrift, for three days.

Thanks to the cleverness of my lady friends, the kindness of my husband, and the desperation of Carnival Cruise Lines to sell tickets, I am about to embark on a little, tiny jaunt to the Bahamas. Nothing fancy; we leave tonight and return Sunday morning early, and we are only docked in Nassau, which is not the most exotic or exciting place in the Bahamas, and there is a good chance of at least some rain.... BUT, I am super excited to have a few days of adult conversations that are not interrupted by requests for help with play dough or mediation over wooden food items. I'm excited for time to read, and sleep, and just be. I may work out. I may drink a little. I may buy a grass bag, who knows! I will drink lots of free iced tea, read, knit, and sleep (hopefully in the sun by the beach or the pool) and will not feel guilty for more than a moment. I'll miss my boogers, but they are home with papa, getting excellent quality boy time together, so that will be magic for them.

Off to pack, now that I am less than two hours from my departure time... Oh, when will I learn that procrastination is not the best policy? (or is it...?)

Open Letter Weekend

This open letter may not be of the usual ilk, so bear with me. It's been an exceptionally long week, and long weekend, so I'm not feeling prickly or perky or funny or any of those things that make for a good, fun open letter. I prefer that sort, but tonight you get me as I am, which is this:

And Open Letter to Parents of Neuro Typical Children, and Parents of Children without Major Medical Issues:

I understand. It's a mama law. Where one is standing feels like the clearest place in the world, even when it is difficult. One's own struggle feels like it is the most important, and one's own experience feels like it is somehow both linked to all others and somehow completely unique. I understand the reflex to compare children, to compare experience, to relate the experience that you are hearing from another parent to your own experience as a parent, or to a parent that you know, or the parent you saw on a TV show. I understand.

I beg you to stop.

As the parent of one child with Asperger's Syndrome and hyperlexia, and another who wears contacts and/or glasses due to surgeries in his first few weeks of life to remove congenital cataracts, I plead with you to stop. My struggle with their issues is my own, and I admit that I feel like it's the most important thing in the world. Their struggles (and my own) feel like they are connected to all other children's issues and also unique. Both of these things are true, but we are living a different life that you genuinely can't understand. It's OK. We are OK.

The thing is, it's been a long week. Potty training an almost four year old boy with Asperger's is damn hard. Potty training is never fun, I know. There is SO MUCH poop, why doesn't anyone ever get real about the poop? But here's the thing: even though Henry is very high functioning, it might take years to potty train him. Please, please stop telling me that "you've never seen someone wearing diapers in his dorm room!" because the reality is that there are autistic people who are not toilet trained at sixteen. There is so much neuro-typicality baggage in that one statement that I have heard countless times since Henry turned three, I can hardly unpack all of it. It's time to step back, and just let us work through this one. If your kid is potty trained, I'm so so so glad for you. Please, unless I am asking, don't tell me more.

I sometimes wonder if I am the only mama with an ASD child that feels like the weight of the world makes my connections with other parents far more difficult. I've come across some amazing blogs by mamas of ASD kids recently that have helped me cry, embrace some of the emotional weight I am carrying about, and realize that while isolated in some ways, I'm not alone. My world has shifted, but if you are a mama I love with a neuro-typical child, please understand that I love you to bits and pieces; I just have fewer pieces of myself to hand about right now. I still need you in my life, I still miss you. I'm just juggling so much with therapy and everything else that the thought of trying to explain all of this every time it comes up is, well, overwhelming.

And at the same time, I feel the weight you must when it comes to talking to me. How many times have I thought "How lucky I am to have two beautiful boys, who are doing so well, and who don't have a major medical issue that requires full time nursing care?" or "How lucky I am that my children can move on their own and feed themselves?" I shouldn't feel like my issues are the worst, because I know that they aren't. But, I am every parent. My children are the center of the universe. It's a mama law. It's OK. I understand. I do.

With love and care,
Virginia

Ouch.

If we've spent any real time together, you likely know that I have had to endure extreme dental work over the years an, ahem, dislike the dentist. I love my dentist, but hate the dentist in the abstract. My teeth are sensitive and a mess, and all the stuff to fix them hurts and is expensive. And it stresses me out.

Recently, I had my first actual toothache. I couldn't shake it. I had to go to the dentist here, not in Vero Beach where I generally see my good lady-dentist who I adore. After Xrays and cleaning and repairs, I still have a toothache and might need a root canal. Awesome. I'm off to see this Gainesville fellow this afternoon, hoping there is some way to make things feel better until I can get myself down south, where I like to open my mouth a tiny bit more. (She gives me Halcion also. This helps.)

Basically, I am complaining because I am stressed out and annoyed at my teeth, and wanting everyone to feel bad for me and bring me treats. Got it? Mwah.

Am I not hip since I still want a Kindle? Oh well.

So the iPad has been unveiled. There are commercials and everything. It's pretty cool, but I still think I really want a Kindle.

I suppose that the sexy touchscreen would be fun, and having what is essentially a little laptop would be awesome. The color screen is indeed pretty. But no. I really REALLY want the Kindle.

I have been reading a lot lately. Ok, "a lot" for me given the babes to constantly cuddle. I've also started cleaning out my bookcases, and have discovered that I really don't need to hang on to so many of the paperbacks I have enjoyed over time. Sure, I might read something again someday, but I'm not referencing things, generally not passing them along to others, and not finding better storage. I tend to read, shelf, and eventually donate a LOT of paper.

The concept of digital books, therefore, fits right on into my world beautifully. I love the idea of toting around a smallish device and being able to read books, blogs, papers, whatever. Oh, and I love the samples, the mobile downloads, and the storage. I love that all these books sync with your iPod/iPhone and that you can get classics for free. Love all these things, which are essentially equal on all these devices.

The Kindle has me won, though, and here are the reasons why:

1. I love that screen. When I played with my sister-in-law's Kindle, I was amazed with how easy it was to read that non-lit screen. Sunshine? Sure! Pictures? Great in black and white. It is really cool, really easy on the eyes, and much mote like reading a book than a computer screen. I have not seen the iPad in person, but reading on the iPod touch is a little hard. Oh, and forget about it in the sunshine.

2. Eventually, I am sure I will get an iPhone. My future iPhone will do just about everything the iPad will do, and I won't want to tote around two similar devices. Or pay for monthly service for both, which brings me to...

3. The Kindle's upfront price includes the mobile access to downloads and updates in 3G. I love this. I think spending the $250- $500 is worth it, just to have both the hardware and the connection all at once. Not adding another monthly bill to my life = super-big plus.

Don't get me wrong. I'm an Apple lady. I am writing this on the iPod we got for our two-year-old. I love this thing, which makes me believe that the iPad will be awesome for those who want a "laptop light" to tote around. But I have an iBook. I want a reading machine so I can have fewer silverfish in my life, and read the rest of the three very cool books I have thusfar previewed.

I love that reading is back on my life, and can't wait to get cracking. Now, I just need that Kindle...


Sent from Henry's iPod

My New Year

My 2010 is starting today.

I just got the time to be still and think about what things I want to change in the new year, so my resolutions start now. Or tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow.

I could make very specific goals (I do have a few of those in the back pocket), but I prefer the top two lofty ideas I came up with while I was in my little bubble this weekend.

1. Practice being present.
Yes, this is kind of cheesy, but suck it. I've been ridiculously stressed out, and freaked out, about all the things falling through the cracks, and all the scary possibilities that loom in the potential futures. Anxiety begets anxiety, and it has, quite frankly, paralyzed me in many ways. I could make my resolution getting back into yoga, because the practice of presence was precisely what had me hooked on it years ago, but it's not just yoga. My goal is, in fact, to bring myself into the moment and enjoy the process, rather than just focusing on an end and worrying about getting there.

2. Patience.
I need more of it, pretty much all the time. When Henry was a tiny baby, I remember being more patient than I ever imagined I could be. (I have no idea if I was delusional, or even if I am just remembering it wrong. The chances of either being true are excellent.) I have not found that same well of patience since Toby's birth, and have found myself looking back over a day or a week, wishing I had been more patient and not acted as I did. I'm not yet sure how to remind myself to find patience in the moment, and I'm not getting a tattoo (I love Christine's though).

I figure that by actively incorporating presence and patience into my life, I will also be more attentive and kind, and really enjoy the pure love of my family. I'm also hoping to focus more attention on my life, and do some of the little things for myself and my family that I have been wanting to do for ages. (See back pocket list for details.) It will mean turning off the TV and computer more, buying less, creating more things from scratch, and learning how to incorporate the kids into activities like cooking, cleaning, and gardening. All of this will be good for all of us.

So, Happy New Year to me! I'll let you know how it's going.

And, break!

It is probably painfully obvious from my posts alone, and I assure you that if you had a face to face conversation with me there would be no doubt: I am exhausted.

I have been very up front about the fact that I have found two kids beyond hard to manage, and that I don't get nearly enough sleep to function as a human being. Long-term sleep deprivation screws with you in ways you can't imagine, and I fear I may never get my brain back.

Let me break it down for you: I'm generally a very smart person, and I have my poop in a group. Not perfection, but together. These days, here is the scenario: I walk into the grocery store to buy three things (aluminum foil, kale, and red lentils). We desperately need the aluminum foil and I'm thinking of making soup for dinner. While in the store, I get a cookie for Henry, because that is what we do at the grocery store. I pick up two of the items on the list (the lentils and the kale), but remember that cookie, oops. Apparently the cookie is a third thing in my new world. Not a chance I will think of that real third thing (remember that aluminum foil?) until I am on the way home, thinking about how smart I was to go ahead and go to the store before lunch so that while the kids nap I can bake those sweet potatoes after all since I have... oh wait, the aluminum foil.

This happens thirty times a day. No joke.

So this weekend, I am escaping from life. Call it a mental health leave, or whatever you want. Three nights in a hotel with a big, beautiful bed. No kids. No conversation. No responsibilities. No thinking. No reasoning. N.o.t.h.i.n.g. (Possibly some simple knitting math, but that is IT.)

I used to get a chance to do nothing every now and again. It wasn't for three days in a chunk, it was for a couple of hours here or there when Bret was working and I was home alone. Zone out. Knit. Be still. Read. Think about life or make lists or whatever, just time to myself for a little while. I can't even recall the last time I got to do this - I mean really DO NOTHING - and I am so excited about it.

I love my kids. I love my husband. I love my house.

And I will love it so much more freely when I get back Tuesday.

My Almost Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

I don't really remember a lot of things from my childhood for some reason. I do, however, very distinctly remember that my elementary school principal (Mr. Bond) would lead assembly every morning, and every once in a while (once a year I think) he would have a day that kept him from getting prepped, and he'd tell us that happened and then read us "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day." It's a book about a boy who has a really crappy day.

It happens. Sometimes you just have a really cruddy day. Everything that could go wrong, does. Things you never imagined could go wrong go horribly wrong. I had begun crafting this post in my head as I was driving home from the grocery store around 3pm the other day because I was having one of those days. Fortunately, however, things turned around; it wasn't a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, but it almost was.

Things didn't really start to slide until mid-day. I was tired. I couldn't get Toby to nap, so I took him shopping. I had a lot of things to get at Target, but went to grab some more tops at Old Navy first. They didn't have them. They had nothing. I got a call from Henry's school that he was not napping, kicking, and yelling, so I needed to come pick him up since he was disrupting naptime. I never got to Target, Toby screamed the whole way, and I got a note with Henry that said he'd been being a bad napper for a couple of weeks. Great. They screamed in the car on the way home. I realized we really needed to go to the grocery store, Henry pitched a fit wanting a cookie, so even though it seemed like a bad idea, we did it. I had to feed Toby in the parking lot, which didn't really work out (more screaming, no eating). Henry spit all of his water out onto the front of his shirt and we had no other set of clothes. Nothing good was on sale. The veggies were not good at all. Henry pitched a fit and kept standing up in the cart and grabbing everything. Toby woke up in the sling, had on no glasses, and looked as though he might cry at any moment. At the car, I found I had dumped a whole mug of coffee into the driver's seat and my nursing cover. I had to sit, in my new jeans, in coffee to get home. It was during this drive I started reliving assembly and Alexander's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

But...

When I got home, things started to turn around. Henry's teacher called me and was incredibly sweet, putting me at ease and relieving my stress that Henry was disrupting class all the time. We made a plan to tackle the no-nap craziness. Toby took a nap and I got to play with Henry. We ended up having a delicious dinner, thanks to our trip to the grocery. All the veggies I couldn't buy because they were not looking good, out of stock, or way overpriced were picked up by Bret at the Farmer's market on the way home. Oh, and the ONE thing I grabbed before getting pulled from Old Navy is great. And I got most of the coffee stain out of my nursing cover (enough to be OK with it). Bret and I tag-teamed the boys and the cleaning and cooking really well, and had a nice evening together. It all really worked out in the end, even though it was looking grim.

I think it's a good thing to remember that every now and again, you really do just have a bad day. Things will get better, and it's even kind of funny because it's just so bad, but it's OK to just have a bad day. It happens to everyone and life goes on. And it's also great to remember that even those days that start out really bad can turn around. Keeping your sense of humor and keeping perspective is so important, because you never know when things can flip. So in the end, I got two really great lessons the other day, and I got to remember that I learned a lot from Mr. Bond showing us he was human and reading us a very good book about a very bad day.

My knitting personality.

My knitting personality is sort of half-assed, faking it. I love starting projects, working through them, and giving away a finished project, but if something requires too much attention to detail (or math), I tend to just move on to something I know I can finish easily. I do enjoy learning new stitches, techniques, etc., but unless I can master them right away and integrate them into things I do a lot, I don't really bother. (I'd like to think all this applies only to knitting, but let's be real.)

I learned to knit from my grandmother Thea when I was in college. I think it was my sophomore year, so that would be like 1998 or thereabouts. I made a ridiculously pointless half-scarf in garter stitch and gave it to a friend. He was kind and did not diss it, but really, this thing was crap. It was like 12" x 20" (I had one skein, so it ended when the yarn did), and it was a mess. I had learned to purl, but it freaked me out, so I just knit - hence the garter stitch. I had no clue how to bind off by the time I finished the thing, so I sort of rigged the end of it somehow with lots of knots. The number of dropped and arbitrarily-added stitches was spectacular, and the tension was all over the map. Did I mention that it was bright teal, 100% acrylic? Uncomfortable, unusable, hideous thing. But, I was so excited to give away my very first knitting project, I could hardly contain myself.

I honestly don't recall if I made anything else for years, but I managed to pick knitting up again sometime around the time I took the Bar Exam in 2006. I made a lot of scarves to start. All in garter stitch, because I could remember how to knit, but had totally forgotten how to purl. I tried to look it up and practice, but it never quite worked, and rather than really working at it, I just settled for garter stitch and made a lot of scarves. You can get a fair amount of variation out of garter stitch scarves using different needles and yarns. But I exhausted the possibilities pretty quickly.

I was getting better, though. My stitches and tension were much more even, I was getting fast, and things were going well. I decided it was time to branch out... in 2007. I decided I really did want to purl, so I looked up tutorials online. How did we exist without the internet? Or, specifically, YouTube? You can learn to do anything. From like five (or fifty) different people. Between knitting blogs and videos, I learned to purl. I also learned about using circular needles to make roll brim hats. The hats made me swallow some fear and learn to use double pointed needles, knit together, and read very basic patterns, all of which hugely expanded my horizons.

Oh, around this time I also learned about proper ways to change colors, add an additional skein in the same color, and why having an embroidery needle for weaving in ends is actually something necessary. Let me back up - before this period, I would tie the ends of yarn together and keep knitting. I tried to time it for the end of a row if I was changing color, but just went with it if not. My knitting was just messy and basic - I accepted this wholly. As for weaving in excess thread, oh dear. I'd cut it as short as possible (hoping to avoid this at all), and then do it with my fingers, which usually made a huge mess of things too. It was crazy, all over the place. Not invisible. You see, these "small details" required either a bit too much faith (the yarn would, in fact, stay kitted together even if not knotted!), and a bit too much effort (I had to keep track of embroidery needles, and I lose these sorts of things). Now they are part of what I do (and I have my gear in a knitting bag!), but it took me ever so long to get to embrace them.

I have learned more since then, but really I stick to the basics because the next leap will require a lot more work, and probably more math. I can make really large simple things (like baby/toddler blankets) using a few stitches on circular needles. I can still make scarves, but now they can be much more interesting, and can come with coordinating hats. I have figured out how to improvise making my own patterns enough to make toys for Henry, which I really like doing because it's all messy and crazy, but it's OK. Of course, I need to learn more techniques to get better at this one, especially if I intend to share patterns with others (right now I just put the crazy messy out there, but knitters tend to be more tidy, so I need to work on that).

But the toys are really a good measure of my kitting personality. I learned and tried new things to make Muno, but I also had to improvise and fake it a lot too. I had to just make it work, with no road map and a lot of gaps in my skills. If you look closely at him, you'll find he's an utter mess of pieced together bits. But he works. And I believe he can make it through the washing machine, although I might be afraid to stick him in the dryer. There is something to that.

I can't make gorgeous sweaters or cabled socks (yet anyway), but I can make some stuff. Eventually, I may focus and really learn to do some major things, but I kind of like my simple projects. I know how often I toss Henry's blanket in the washer/dryer, and how he loves it. And how he totes around a red cyclops or wears his little hat (not often, he hates hats, but he wore it all morning the other day when it was cold outside!). I love that I can do that much. And that there is not a lot of math.