Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Drive By Posting

Quick update:

I still hurt. I'm feeling better than I was, so I do thing, and then I over-do it, because I'm me. I've been off the narcotics for two days now, but I think I'm gonna take some as soon as I hit publish. I have company coming, so I've been cleaning, and I might have done a bit too much (see above about overdoing it.)

My Ravellenic Sweater is progressing nicely.


Just a few more rows and we'll split for the armscye. I can't decide if this sweater is going to work. It might be too drapey. I am undecided as of yet.

I haven't tried on the blue sweater. Mostly I just sit around admiring it.  I'm scared to try it on. It is too pretty to not fit me. Maybe I'll get all high from the painkillers and then I'll be brave and try my sweater on later today.

The children are still alive.

I think the covers everything.

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Team BunnySlaves

In honor of the Olympics I have entered the Ravellenic Game 2012.

Go Team Bunny Slaves!

We are hard at work on a pink sweater.


As you can see I have lots of help.  Memphis is very good at getting white hair in the knitting.  And chewing the tips of my needles.  And sitting around looking so darn adorable and cuddly yet very disapproving at the same time.


(doesn't the bunny foot just kill you, it is so cute!)

I'm not sure what I get if I complete my event (the Sweater Triathalon).  I think it is bragging rights.  But if I get my sweater done I might enter the Hand Dye High Dive.  I'll keep you posted.

Saturday, July 28, 2012

Happy Birthday Pork Chop!

When Pork Chop was three years old she used to tell people "My name is Pork Chop, I am three years old, and my favorite color is green."  And then people would know all the important things a person needed to know about Pork Chop.

Pork Chop is now twelve years old.  Now the script is "My name is Pork Chop, I am twelve years old, my favorite color is green, and I love zombie."

Yup, my beautiful princess wants to be Queen of the Zombies.  If there is ever a zombie apacolpyse is will be because Pork Chop genetically engineered a zombie virus.  I would like to apologise to the world in advance. 

Dear World,

I am sorry that my offspring brought about the destruction of modern civilization as we know.  I am sorry she brought an end to modern plumbing, air conditioning and fully stocked grocery stores.  I am sorry she introduced an element of constant danger that our lives were blissfully free of before her existence.  On the plus side she is super cute.

My sincerest regret,


Of course the world will never see my apology because the internet will not exist.  I am really going to miss the internet.  Google would be really hand if civilization broke down and I needed to learn to live off the land.  But I digress.  Back to Pork Chop.

What is a zombie loving girl to have but a zombie themed birthday party!  (yes I know her birthday was in June, but June was very busy for us.  This was the weekend that worked for us.  She is a very understanding girl).

We quarantined the house.


And boarded the windows.


Then we partied like zombies (cause zombies don't sleep!)

Five giggling, squealing, singing Adele at the top of their lungs 12 year old girls.  It was big fun.  Even the dog had a good time.


Happy Birthday my beautiful girl!


Friday, July 27, 2012

Pain = Productivity?

So last week my ovary decided to explode.

I wish I was joking.

So it wasn't exactly my ovary.  It was a cyst on my ovary.  And it was awful.

What followed was a week of me sitting on the couch knitting. It would have been awesome if not for the excruciating pain.

I wish I was exaggerating.

It hurt worse than childbirth. I could not move without wanting to cry. Sitting still was the only thing that didn't hurt to do. Sitting very still.

 Narcotics helped.

And made me itch.

On the bright side knitting kept me from scratching all my skin off, so there is that.

I took this picture the day after my ovary exploded.


That's me, chillin with Dexter and my knitting while I sat very still.

 I took this one exactly a week later.


I know it is a crappy picture, but I get a pass on my camera work this week. I'm still in pain.

So a sweater in eight days. While on narcotics.  I'm lucky it only has two sleeves.  We'll have to wait until it dries to see if it actually fits.  It might be Pork Chops new sweater...

Friday, July 20, 2012

I have been pondering this in my mind.  I want to blog.  I love my blog.  I miss blogging.  I still think in blog posts.  I take random pictures of stuff to post on my blog.


See.  Totally random picture of a half knit sock that is now part of a fully knit pair of socks.  I take pictures for my blog.

I just never actually manage to sit down and actually do the blogging part of having a blog.

Which kinda defeats the purpose.

I've considered officially ending my blog.  After all, if I called it quits for good then I could let go of the guilt I carry over all the unblogged things.  The guilt, it weighs me down.  Letting go of those things that do not bring us joy, and weigh us down is a beautiful thing.  Who doesn't feel the need to simplify their lives and let go of the needless baggage?  Letting go of that which is destructive to us can only be a good thing.  And unearned guilt is a destructive thing.  I think my guilt over my blog is unearned and unnecessary.  By  not blogging am I harming anyone?  Am I doing anything wrong?  Do I really have anything to feel guilty about?  I've decided the answer to those questions is no.  So my guilt is indeed unearned and destructive.  But my blog does bring me joy.  I don't want to throw out the entire enterprise because one cog doesn't work.

But the non-working cog is me.

It isn't a camera issue, or a computer issue, or a lack of access to the internet issue.

It is me.

What is wrong with me?

I've been turning this over and over in my mind.  What is wrong with me?  And I'm sure my siblings could write novels on the subject.  Oh the novels my siblings and some of my closer friends could write on all the things that are wrong with me.  But in this one tiny little instance I've decided the fault does not lie with me.  Instead the fault lies here.


Yup.  It is all their fault.

I no longer blog because of these sweet little demons children (seriously, how cute are they.  sometimes their  cuteness makes me hurt).  These devious creative minds and a little something I think of as the "Death of Naptime" are the reason I never blog.

Gone are the days where I had two, sometimes three, uninterrupted hours in the afternoon to amuse myself.  Hours where I needed to be quiet so I couldn't do productive things like vacuum.  Hours where I had to be at home, so I couldn't do productive things like run errands.  Quiet quiet blissful hours where I could just HEAR MY OWN THOUGHTS.  Many of which I wrote on this blog.

I never realized what a luxury it was to hear my own thoughts.

Now my four demons children  are all done with the napping phase of life.  I wish I had known that Sweet Pea's last nap was going to be "THE LAST NAP EVER."  I would have had mourning services for it, where we all could gather together and mourn "The Death of Naptime."  But Death never announces its intentions.  It never RSVP's or gives you a courtesy call to tell you it will be dropping by in ten minutes.  It sneaks up on you, and steals the things you hold most dear.

Oh Naptime.

Like all mourners, I didn't realize what you meant to me until it was too late.

With no naptime my days are filled with constant activity, and no structured down time for Mommy.  I can clean at any moment.  I can be your personal chauffeur with no restrictions of schedule.  They are always awake to play with, to read to, to make things with.  My feet hit the ground running, and I don't stop until I fall in bed at night.  And sometimes my day still doesn't end there.  The joys of Motherhood and all that.  I'm sure someday I will be writing a morose blog post about the "Death of the Midnight Visitor at my Bedside."  But not today.  Today I do not appreciate the Midnight Visitor at my Bedside.  I'm sure that is another thing that can only be loved in fuzzy cherished memories that are only vaguely reminiscent of the reality.  But I digress.

Where was I anyways?

I might have had a point when I started, but it now eludes me.

Short answer:  no naps = no blogging.

I'm going to have to find a new time to blog.  I can't get up any earlier if I wanted to.  Pork Chop has me getting up at 5:30 to go running with her.  Six months of colic was not enough torture, now the girl makes me run.  Sometimes she comes precariously close to being not awesome.

I could blog after the children go to bed, but honestly, after getting up at 5:30 in the morning to go running, I am simply out of brain cells by 9:00 at night.  I'm lucky I manage to sit on the couch without drooling on myself.  Night blogging isn't going to happen.

I wonder if there is a way to set aside some time from like 1 to 3 in the afternoon.  We could call it "Mommy Time."  And the kids could just do whatever the heck they wanted too as long as their screams didn't disturb Mommy.  Two hours every day to do what ever they wanted, as long as they leave me along and do whatever it is they want to do quietly.

Kinda like nap time used to be.

This just might work.

Until CPS comes to take my children because they've been quietly setting things on fire.

Think of all the blogging time I'll have after CPS takes my kids.

And the blog fodder I'll have telling tales of my supervised visitation.

Yup, this just might work.