Neglecting My Kids

If Only

2012-01-04T11:46:00.003-05:00

Hear that sound?

Neither do I.

The children returned to school this morning.

Man I miss those little buggers already. Thank goodness I still have this one around.

She keeps things interesting.

We had a very successful Christmas. And some day I might get around to blogging it. But I wouldn't hold your breath. I'm a real time blogger. If I don't blog about it when it happens I rarely go back at catch up. I suck like that.

Sorry Grandparents.

During the pre-Christmas insanity my closet become a repository for all the Christmas gifts. This isn't really a secret. The kids found their stuff a few years ago. I'm pretty sure they now consider it their duty to look. Wouldn't you? I foiled their plans this year. I wrapped stuff as we got it. But all this toy stashing means my closet gets thrashed. As Christmas draws near you can barely open/shut the door. Forget about trying to find a specific shirt or pair of shoes. Honestly, you're lucky to get out of there with your life, let alone wearing matching clothes.

It is our post-Christmas ritual to clean our closet. It is more important than taking down our tree.

When all was said and done I felt pretty smug looking at my sweater shelf.

Isn't that magnificent! I have, well, let's count together

21 hand knit sweaters. Actually 22, since I was wearing my blue whisper cardigan when I took that photo. Imagine how many I would have if I lived somewhere that actually got snow!

Not to alarm anyone, but I haven't knitted anything since Christmas Eve. I've got nothing on the needles. I've got a boat load of UFOs. But nothing I feel inspired to knit on. My yarn stash is depleted. I'm down to sock yarn. I need to find an inspiring sock pattern to cast on today so I will have something to knit during knitting group tomorrow.

I've also got to find something to wear. I've never been to this group before and I want to make a good impression before they get to know the real me. I'm thinking a sweater might be nice.

Can we postpone Christmas?

2011-12-14T17:10:00.008-05:00

Christmas is approaching like a freight train. Loud. Fast. And unstoppable.

I am so not ready.

The children are getting several homemade gifts this year. One of which is unbelievably awesome. So unbelievably awesome we will never again have a gift this awesome to give. The Greatest is in charge of that project, but I've got an important role too. I'd say it is a 95/15 split for the workload. One project is because I want to be a Weasley (that's all me). The last of which is because I am full of self-loathing and have decided as punishment for being me and not a Weasley I must give up sleep and work on this project every spare moment the children are in school or sleeping from now until Christmas (this project is also all me).

And the Children wonder why I'm so stressed and yelling all the time.

'Tis the Season.

In other fun news we've had fantastic weather. Cloudy. Gloomy. Brooding.

And there's been rain! I adored it.

Until last night, when the dogs realized they are distant cousins of the Wicked Witch of the West and as such they must not allow water to come into direct contact with their fur. As a result of this revelation the old dog went outside and peed on the covered patio a foot from the grass rather than pee in the rain. Small dog peed on my family room rug. And boy dog peed on our Christmas Tree.

Awesome.

I'm starting to re-evaluate my life and pondering why we have so many dogs.

In unrelated news here's today's sweater.

(blurry, off-center, dirty bathroom mirror photos. I need more sleep)

Pattern: Sabine (rav link)

Yarn: Sock That Rock, Light weight, 2 skeins

Needles: Size 8 Addi Turbos

Modifications: I made quite a few. I cast on for one size, but ended up doing increases on the yoke until the stitch count was equal to a much larger size. I knit the sleeves next instead of the body, and I might have added some length to the sleeves (I don't remember, and my rav notes say "I might have, but I don't remember"). I never worked the decreases for the front of the body. I just kept increasing. First every other row, then every three rows, then every four rows, then every five rows, then I ran out of yarn.

Review: I knit this ages and ages ago. Probably sometime last year. I've never actually worn it until today. I don't love this sweater as much as I want to love this sweater. It has fantastic detail. There is waist shaping. I love the eyelet row on the back...

And sleeves...

Although I'm not sure why I keep knitting sweaters with fantastic back detail. My back looks like this.

No one ever sees them.

But back to the knitting. The bind-off technique is a revelation.

So pretty.

I love the yarn, and the way the colors remind me of a painting by Monet. I should love this sweater. The individual elements are full of win. But when you put it all together, it just doesn't do it for me. It has a similar shape to the Whisper Cardigan, which I liked so much I've knit two. I almost wonder if I shouldn't have just knit a third Whisper. The drape on this isn't as nice. And I wonder if it just isn't a tad too short. I used every inch of yarn I had, so if it is too short that is because of yarn supply, not a deficiency in the design.

It is wearable. And I got a compliment on it today from another knitter (although I haven't ruled out the possibility that she was just being nice). So I guess I'll keep it for now, but I can not promise that I won't frog it at some future date and make it into something new.

I'm Cold

2011-12-05T18:06:00.004-05:00

So we survived Thanksgiving. We had turkey, and stuffing, and mashed potatoes, and real cranberry sauce. And we had desserts.

So many desserts. I failed to get a picture of our perfect turkey, but by golly I got the desserts. There are only six of us in the house. We ate pie for breakfast for a week (and sometimes for lunch too).

Then I got sick. Really sick (which I am positive had nothing to do with my all dessert diet). The kind where you lie around and pray for death sick.

Forget running around town looking cute in my hand knit sweaters. I wore the same pair of pajama pants and grey t-shirt for a week straight. I think they might need to be burned now.

But I am feeling better. While I was lying in bed pretending I was dead I think winter officially descended on the desert. It started with rain, which made everything cold. And then it just stayed cold, it never warmed back up. It was 65 degrees today and I was freezing. Yes, point, laugh, mock me. I deserve it. My blood is ridiculously thin now. But when you're sweating in the 80 degree heat and I'm still wearing a sweater, well, we'll see who's laughing then.

I found myself wearing another of my new favorite sweaters today. (Is there a limit to how many favorites of something a person can have? I hope really really hope not, cause I'm working on 15 different favorite sweaters). As luck would have it The Greatest was home with me, so I handed him my camera and asked him to take a picture of my sweater for me.

I got this.

Awesome. I should have stuck with the self timer.

I did manage to get three more out of him.

Front.

Back.

And a requested close up of the cable (whose color in no way resembles the color in real life).

He takes a very utilitarian approach to picture taking. Get in, get out, get done.

I had to take my own picture of my cute shoes (which is so much harder than it sounds.)

He shops with the same mantra. Get in, get out, get done. And if I want to look at shoes I can do it on my own time.

I don't like shopping with him.

But I digress.

Back to the sweater.

Pattern: Contented Cardi (rav link)

Yarn: Cascade 220, in some number that means Granny Smith Apple Green, 5 skeins (I got this on clearance. Why would they put such pretty Granny Smith Apple Green on clearance? Their loss = my gain!)

Needles: Size 7 Addi Turbos

Modifications: None that I remember, and I've got none in my Rav notes. So we're good. Must have followed the pattern as written. Must have been a really well-written pattern. Honestly can't remember now. I just remember it being a joy to knit from start to finish. Even with the miles and miles and miles of St stitch.

Review: I loves this sweater. The Cascade 220 seemed a bit thick for this pattern at first, but I got gauge, and in the end I'm happy with the way the front drapes. So happy faces all around. It is comfy and warm and everything I need in a throw-over-everything sweater.

In unrelated news, guess what Bird wants for Christmas.

Twi-Hard?

2011-11-18T16:45:00.005-05:00

I'm not a twi-hard. Really I'm not. So what if I've seen all four movies. So what if two of those movies were at midnight premieres. I swear I'm not a twi-hard. It isn't like I have a life size cut out of Edward Cullen in my bedroom. Or famed pictures of Jasper on my piano. OK, I do have these socks. But I swear those were a learning experience. I got to do an after thought heel, which I had never done before (and still haven't done successfully), and I got to practice duplicate knitting. I swear, those socks were all about the technique! You believe me right?

I'm not a twi-hard. I do not think these books are literary masterpieces that will stand through the ages. I do not think the movies are instant classics that every person should see at least once in their life time. I love them for the cheesy fluffy mindless things they are. Mmmmmmm, cheesy, fluffy, mindless, sounds a little bit like cheetos. Mmmmmmmm, cheetos...

But despite not being a twi-hard, I could not resist making a vampire bite necklace for the fourth movie.

See how cute, even if it is slightly blurry. You get the gist right? My friend and I made them while we watched The Walking Dead. (Is there something inherently wrong in making vampire necklaces while watching zombies? Cause it felt a little blasphemous, but I couldn't tell whom we were sinning against, the vampires? or the zombies?)

Now my friend made her really blinged out. She used clear shiny beads for her necklace instead of chain, and it looks fantastic. I'm a little jealous of her necklace to be quite honest. I would show you a picture if I had one, but alas, I do not. You will just have to take my word for it, her necklace turned out fantastic and completely covetous.

And in addition to wearing my vampire bites to the new movie, I also wore... A HAND KNIT SWEATER!

Because people expect nothing less from me.

I took a picture with the self-timer.

Yup, not good.

So much bad in the picture. The light, my peeling nails, the double chin that I do not have in real life, the fact that the sweater is hidden by the new WIP. My self-timer skills need more work.

So I turned to the bathroom mirror and discovered...

Someone had made the mirror really dirty between yesterday and today. I'm gonna blame Bird, if I had to guess.

So I cleaned the mirror and discovered...

My black sweater has a lot of lint/dalmatian hair on it.

And black is really hard to photograph. (Side note: I look very angry in this picture. I swear I wasn't angry. I must just have an angry face.)

Here's the rundown for those who want do know.

Pattern: Emelie

Yarn: KnitPicks Essential Solid, in Black, 5 skeins

Needles: Size 2, random straights I had around the house. They nearly killed me. And Size 3 Addi Turbos. I loves my Addis.

Modifications: None that I remember.

Review: I cast on for this sweater the day it came out. I could not figure out why my lace did not look like the lace in the pattern pictures. I kept wondering what was wrong with me. I check the pattern, and double checked it, and wondered what was wrong with my pattern reading skills. Of course once I was all done with the lace section they released pattern errata. The lace was written wrong in the pattern, so my lace looked wrong. But I likes it anyways.

Have I mentioned how hard black is to photograph? Cause it is really hard to photograph.

I loves this sweater. Just a simple black cardigan to throw over anything and everything. I love the deep ribbing on the back. And the ribbing on the sleeves. Simple details that make this piece a classic. This sweater is good stuff. Only I was still cold during the movie. Must remember to bring a shawl next time!

CUTE!

2011-11-17T14:48:00.008-05:00

The weather has finally turned. I've finally gotten to turn the a/c off. It was beautiful throw the windows open and let the air in weather. For about a week. And then it turned to cold sweater weather. I would be sad I didn't get to enjoy the throw the windows open and let the air in weather longer, but did you hear me? IT IS SWEATER WEATHER! And guess who just happens to have a stack of really really cute sweaters in her closet?

So I've been running around town in cute sweaters, with cute shirts underneath them, with my cute wedge shoes that I bought on clearance. Did I mention how cute I've been looking lately? I'm really making an effort to get dressed every day. Except that one day last week when my neighbor dropped by unexpectedly and I was wearing my robe at 10 am and eating peanut butter on celery sticks. That wasn't awkward at all. So except for that one time, and that other time I can think of off the top of my head, I've been really cute. And I've gots no proof. I had the BEST hair day yesterday. And no proof. I need to hire a live in photographer to capture my cute moments.

But I did read an article from Pinterest about how Moms need to be in the pictures more often, and how to get out from behind the camera. She recommends utilizing the self timer on the camera. So today while I was making lunch (with decidedly less cute hair than yesterday) I decided to play with the timer.

I got some pictures like this.

Not quite right. But I did manage to get a cute one of Sweet Pea and I.

As interesting as pictures of me making lunch with my favorite little helper are my main goal was to capture the sweater for my blog. So I tried this.

Which of course, was not what I was going for. Not.At.All. I tried some more and got a few like these.

And then I gave up and went back to the bathroom mirror.

(See my big frizzy ponytail. I'm so sad I didn't think of this yesterday when I had good hair. You are just going to have to take my word for it, it was fantastic hair. The kind that only happens once, maybe twice, a year. Such is life.)

Ordinarily I couldn't include this next picture (I look so bad, I really am unexpectedly vain), but how cute is Sweet Pea's face?!!!!!

I couldn't not share that one.

So the deets on the sweater for those who care.

Pattern: Miette

Needles: Don't remember but the pattern calls for a 7, and an 8, so I probably used those sizes in my Addi Turbos

Yarn: Cascade 220 in some number that means baby pink, 3 skeins

Modifications: None that I remember.

Review: I started this sweater on Jan 4th, and finished it Jan 7th. (I only know that because of notes on Ravelry). Then I let the sweater lie around for nine months before I blocked it and added buttons. I fully expected this to be a disaster of epic proportions. It is pink. I couldn't imagine what I was going to wear a pink sweater with. And it is a cropped sweater. I've had four children. My stomach looks like it has had four children. I should not be wearing cropped sweaters.

But for some reason this sweater totally works. I adore it. It looks so cute with my summer tanks. And it is super cute over my summer dresses. I'm all about the cute today. Time to break out the thesaurus and expand my vocabulary.

The pattern itself is so well written, and full of great detail like the twisted rib, and bust shaping. And did you notice how seamlessly the lace design wraps around the corners?!!! Genius! I'm looking forward to more from this designer in the future.

And you can look forward to more pictures like this

Because I've got a self-timer. And I'm not afraid to use.

Grandparents Rejoice!

2011-10-10T18:05:00.002-04:00

Green thing took three days to dry. But it is now neatly folded and I've got something new blocking:

And something new soaking:

Just no pretty photographs of pretty Finished Objects to show off.

Such is life.

I do have some pretty photographs of my favorite models to share. I figured if I didn't include the children soon the Grandparents might rise up in rebellion. And everyone knows the key to a happy life is pleasing one's parents. So here ya go!

Public Service Announcement

2011-10-08T09:00:00.003-04:00

When you decorate like this.

You can not be constantly surprised by this.

Stop being startled when the kids leave fake bugs on the floor. Your heart can't take the constant adrenaline rush.

Just something to keep in mind.

p.s. Pinterest

Moving Right Along

2011-10-07T11:47:00.004-04:00

Everything is going according to plan.

I've got a pretty FO to add to my pile of pretty FOs.

I've got the next thing laid out to dry.

And I've got a new knit soaking in the blocking bowl.

(note= none of the pictures feature color resembling real life. I really should learn to work my camera)

I am well on my way to BLOCKING ALL THE THINGS.

Which of course means that something soon will go horribly wrong. Because nothing ever goes according to plan.

And I also think I've found a flaw in the plan. Once all my Pristinely Unblocked things become blocked they get added to the pile of things that need photographed. And of course photographs are stalled in the wait for a good hair day. Sometimes I think I'd settle for a clean hair day. But hair issues aside, moving them from one pile to the other is not enough. I must find a way to show off the finished knits. Prepare yourself for lots of bathroom mirror shots. Or maybe I can read my camera manual and see if it has a self-timer. I would probably know that if I knew how to work my camera. But I don't. And in order to read the manual I would have to find my camera manual. Which, sadly, I know the exact-ish location of. It is in my junk drawer. And the idea of sifting through all the stuff that ends up in my junk drawer makes me want to take a nap. If the mere thought makes me feel fatigue can you imagine how exhausting the actual process would be?

But I digress.

I'm talking about showing off Finished Objects to you. And today I just happen to have a finished crafty type project to show. Just not a knitted one. *shock* *gasp* *head tilt* *I didn't know there were any other kinds*

It seems to be my mission to mention Pinterest in every single blog post I write, so here is my Pinterest plug for today.

When I saw these I knew they had to be mine! So a trip to the dollar store and two minutes with my E6000 glue and there they were in my family room.

Don't you just love them? I'll admit it. I feel very clever for making them, even though it was not my original idea and no actual talent was required to glob some glue on the bottom of a vase. I added a third vase and opted not to put it on a candlestick for visual interest. I adore them. I'm thinking of filling it with pepermints for Christmas, or maybe holiday colored m&ms. So many possibilities. And I made it for less than $10. Can't beat that!

Progress

2011-10-05T17:22:00.003-04:00

So it turns out that shame is a great motivator for me.

Shame and this picture I saw on Pinterest.

Looking at that stack of unwearable knits that just needed a bath gave me a sad. I put all that time into knitting them. I don't know why I stall out at the finishing step. It isn't even the sewing of seams or the weaving in of ends that I hate so much. It is the blocking. I've talked about this before. Blocking feels too much like laundry and I loathe laundry. I need to find someone I can outsource my blocking to, the way quilters will make a quilt top but then outsource the actual quilting of the quilt. (Speaking of quilting I've really got to get my kids quilts done. I want to have them under the tree as Christmas presents. I really hate the way Christmas is creeping up on me, creeping like a speeding bullet, but I digress).

I could not let the pile of Pristinely Unblocked knits remain. So I grabbed a garment for which I knew blocking would bring me joy. I grabbed lace.

Lace blocking is MAGIC. It is my favorite part of knitting lace. It turns a lumpy ugly blob of knitting into a work of art. There were three shawls in the pile of Pristinely Unblocked but I felt the blue one would block best. I was hoping that if I started with a bang I would keep momentum and block one thing a day. Yes, I am hoping to eventually BLOCK ALL THE THINGS!

A girl can dream.

I may not have all the things blocked, but I do have one thing drying on my bedroom floor.

This time tomorrow I should have a beautiful blue shawl to add to the pile of finished objects that need photographed to add to the blog.

And to keep things moving along I've already put something else in the soak bowl.

GO ME!

2011-10-03T09:30:00.000-04:00

So my friend called me last month to yell at me for not blogging. "So you realize you haven't blogged since July 7th?" I was shocked. I was sure I hadn't blogged since sometime mid-June. Go Me!

So I put blogging on my to-do list. And every day it seemed to be one of the things that didn't get done, and was moved to the list for the next day. And for weeks I've carried this to-do around with me. I thought about doing it. But I played on Ravelry instead. I thought some more about doing it but I played on Facebook instead. And I went to the computer determined today was the day, but then I got sucked into Pinterest. (Side note: Join Pinterest and let me stalk your boards. I love Pinterest more than I love my Husband's dogs, but slightly less than I love ice cream.)

What else have I been doing?

Not much, just engaging in this little hobby of mine I like to call KNITTING!

I have been knitting like it is going out of style. Like I don't live in an environment whose weather is still in the triple digits. I'm knitting like I have half a prayer of being cold someday.

A girl can dream.

I have this stack of finished knits just waiting to be shared.

And I have this stack of knits that just need blocked and I can call them done.

Yeah, there are exactly eleventy billion things in that pile. I pulled out one sweater that I had completely forgot I knit. How sad is that. I really should learn to love blocking.

And I have this stack of partially knit things that I have abandoned and will finish at an undetermined future date. I was going to gather them all up for a photo shoot. But everywhere I looked there were more UFOs. Getting them all together from all the random places I have them seemed like too much work. So instead I just photographed the one that was closest to me.

The color in this photograph is only marginally related to the colors in real life. I never claimed to be a photographer.

As you can see I have knit my way through almost all of my meager stash.

This is an emergency.

SEND YARN!

Or I might be forced to finish a UFO. *gasp* *shock* *shudder at a fate worse than death*

Unexpected Conversations

2011-07-07T07:31:00.004-04:00

So I took the children to Wal-Mart yesterday and as I was putting Sweet Pea in that handy seat on the front of the grocery cart she looked at me and solemnly said "I nev-ah met your mudder."

I have a habit of repeating everything back to her, just so she knows I'm listening and I understand what she is saying. Oh and also because sometimes I can't understand what she is saying, so I have to guess at what I think she might be saying. If I get it wrong she repeats herself, growing increasing frustrated with me, until I finally get it right.

Surprised I said "you never met my Mother?"

Gravely she nodded. "I nev-ah met your mudder." she repeated.

Feeling the knife twist in my heart I agreed "No baby, you never met my Mother."

And with all the seriousness a three year old can muster she continued, "I nev-ah met your mudder. But I would love her."

Sometimes life catches me by surprise and takes my breath away.

She then asked if we could buy bananas because "we don haf bananas."

Sigh

2011-07-06T14:11:00.004-04:00

One might think that when you have dogs who are house broken and you let your house broken dogs in the back yard instead of the side yard (because the side yard is flooded from the monsoons and you don't want mud all over the house) that the house broken dogs would take that opportunity to do their business in the back yard.

One would be wrong.

The house broken dogs would instead come inside, jump the baby gate on the steps, and do their bathroom business in the upstairs hallway.

And in one of the children's bedrooms.

And I'm out of carpet cleaner solutions.

Awesome!

Some days are just crappy. (See what I did there? Crappy? Yeah I know, it was low brow, but hey, I'm sleep deprived today and my house smells bad now, and its going to give me a migraine. Double Awesome! I apologize for NOTHING!)

I'm off for adventures at Wal-Mart with four kids in tow.

Big Things Happening Here

2011-07-05T14:59:00.003-04:00

Yesterday was a quiet day. So quiet we didn't even see any fireworks. I know. Very very quiet. We laid around. We played plants vs zombies. We went swimming. I took a nap. So very very boring. You wouldn't even have known it was a holiday.

We did have one very big thing happen.

Bird, at the ripe old age of 7, FINALLY, lost her first tooth.

Her tiny soul is filled with joy.

Usually when my child gets a loose tooth I knit them a tooth fairy bag, but this one, like everything else this year, snuck up on me. One day her tooth was loose, then the next thing I knew, the tooth was not in her mouth where it belonged, it was sitting on the computer desk beside me. In typical big sister fashion Pork Chop offered to loan Bird her tooth fairy bag, but Bird needed a bag of her very own. And a bag of her very own she got.

I knit it on size 2 needles with left over discontinued Knitpicks sock garden sock yarn (did you follow that? I barely did and I wrote it. That doesn't bode will for my writing skills today does it).

The tooth fairy is a notoriously unreliable fairy, she can take up to six weeks to collect a tooth. But she's pretty good about showing up on time for that very first tooth. She also pays well for the very first tooth. Bird can hardly wait to spend her five dollars.

Big things for a seven year old.

Friday Lovin'

2011-07-01T18:43:00.002-04:00

It is that day of the week again. I tell you, summer is flying by. FLYING. So let's not waste any time. Let's get down to it.

This week I'm loving...

Fourth of July Decorations. Even paper balls make my house look fancy.

I'm loving...

How our dog loves to sit on your lap, with his butt actually on your lap, like he is another child. He's so gentle with the kids. He puts up with so much "love" from Sweet Pea. And all he asks for in return is that he be allowed to share his butt with you. If you're not sitting down he'll just lean his butt on your legs. He loves his butt and feels it must be shared with the world.

and I'm loving...

Bird's artwork. The preying mantis in the lower right hand corner is especially cute.

What are you loving this week?

Well, Look At That

2011-06-29T14:57:00.002-04:00

My shame is gone. It was close. I almost gave up, but then I gave in and blocked it.

As if I could stay away from you.

The laptop is simply too much fun to type on.

Sweater-ish

2011-06-26T20:37:00.001-04:00

My head was achey when I went to bed last night. I was hoping for some good sleep to reset my brain. But old dog is old and she had other plans for me.

She works with her own agenda and her agenda included getting up every two hours exactly to go pee and get a drink of water. I don't know why she choose last night to get up every two hours to pee and get a drink of water. Maybe she could tell I really needed to sleep and she must work counter to my needs. Maybe she has decided to get some joy from what little life she has left by tormenting me. Maybe she thinks I miss getting up every two hours with a baby and she wanted to help me feel nostalgic. But whatever the reason, I found myself dragging my weary bones out of bed every two hours exactly so I could be a spotter for old dog on the stairs lest she fall. I opened the back door for her so she could go outside because she only uses the doggie door when she feels like it, and last night she didn't feel like it. I opened the door to let her back in. I re-filled her water bowl. I spotted old dog on the way back up the stairs, and then, and only then, was I allowed to take a small nap before we repeated the process all over again.

Awesome.

So my head is still achey today. Not all splodey yet, but I can feel a little thread pulling in my head threatening to explode. Big Fun. So another quiet easy day inside. The kids built a tent and watched movies. I let them eat candy in their bedrooms. They think I'm the best Mom ever. They luv-ah me.

Luckily, with The Greatest home today, that meant lots of KNITTING for me!

It is finally looking like a sweater. Well, it kinda looks like a sweater. Imagine sleeves. Can you see the sweater now?

Well it is finally looking sweater-ish. And it is almost done. Just two short sleeves, and some blocking and I will have a brand new blue sweater.

Speaking of blocking, I still haven't pinned out my shawl yet. My shame is great. I think I will have to pin it out tomorrow. Or stop blogging. One or the other. Honestly I'm still on the fence as to which way I'll go.

Cowabunga!

2011-06-25T19:30:00.000-04:00

My thermometer looked like this

so the only place to be was in the pool. And big things happened in the pool today.

Bird's first cannon ball(ish)!

She's a big girl now, a dare devil! Jumping in the deep end and swimming like a fish.

She's had the ability for over a year, but lacked the confidence. The deep end is, after all, deep(ish. deep to a seven year old anyways). It is deeper than she is tall, and I know I avoid water that is deeper than I am tall (yet I am a certified scuba diver, I am a walking contradiction). But this is not about me, this is about her. My seven year old who is so petite she needs a 4T swimsuit. But her imagination is larger than our house. When she swims she is a mermaid. She thinks her cannon balls splash the neighbor's houses they are so big. I love that kid.

While she cannon-balled I spent my time like this.

Life is good.

Friday Luh-va

2011-06-24T10:18:00.000-04:00

I'm loving......

Naps! Just wearing the kids out until they sleep wherever they drop.

And speaking of Sweet Pea I'm loving the way she tells me she loves me. She gets right in my face and says "Mommy, I luh-va you!" Two syllables. So sweet. And she doesn't "luh-va" Meaty. And he is not her friend. But "Mommy I luh-va you, and you're my favorite." After years of Daddy reigning supreme it is good to finally be someone's favorite.

I'm loving....

night swimming. (I know not a picture of the pool at night, but my night time photography skills leave something to be desired). Sneaking to the pool when the children are tucked snug in their beds. Swimming with no one splashing in my face. No one cannon balling on my head. No one climbing on my raft and dumping me in the pool every.five.minutes. Adult Swim is a beautiful thing.

And finally I'm loving....

The Walking Dead. My Dad bought me the first season when he was visiting and it got tucked away on our shelf waiting for that mythical moment The Greatest and I could sit down and watch it without the children around. It took weeks, but we found a moment on Fathers Day. We sat down that evening to watch just one episode after the children had gone to bed. Just one episode was all it took. The next thing we knew it was 2 a.m. and we had watched the entire season (which was only 6 episodes, in a related rant, since when is 6 episodes considered a full season? that's more like a mini-series or a television special event, how is that considered a full season of a tv show? and the next season is supposed to have double the episodes with 13! Again, not a full season! end rant) Anyways, at the risk of sounding like Sweet Pea, zombies are not my favorite. But this show is riveting. It is compelling. You can't look away. I'm obsessed. I've googled every spoiler I can find. I'm thinking of selling one of the children so I can buy all the comic books. I'm counting down the days until October when the new season premieres. I'm loving this show.

What are you loving this week?

Gah! Tiny Men!

2011-06-23T18:23:00.002-04:00

Whelp, my head went all splodey yesterday. Not unexpected with the way I was feeling, but disappointing all the same. Heavy drugs are a good thing. In fact I was feeling so good last night I should have blogged. Would have made for some funny reading today, if somewhat incoherent. I'm told my eyes were rather glazed like a doughnut. And my limbs were rather floppy. But I wasn't crying or throwing up, so I'll take a severe lack of co-ordination (which is rather close to my natural unmedicated state anyways) and a resemblance to tasty baked goods any day over the alternative.

This morning I feel much better, but we're taking it easy just to play on the safe side. Makes for boring blogging doesn't it?

Thank goodness I found this in my bathroom this morning. Just to spice things up.

How on earth that got in my bathroom I had no idea. Thank goodness I happen to live with a professional lizard catcher.

He caught him in under 10 seconds. It was amazing. I was so grateful. Because goodness knows I'm not about to touch that lizard. If Meaty hadn't been able to catch the lizard my only alternative would have been to stare at the lizard all day, so I knew where it was at all times, until The Greatest could come home and dispatch the lizard for me. Because I am not about to touch a lizard. I've gotten over the cricket thing, and I can squish them with a random flip flop with the best of them. I've mostly gotten over the spider thing and I can squish them with minimal crying. But I've got to draw the line somewhere, and it is lizards. I can't touch them. I simply can't. Everybody has a limit and for the moment that is mine.

I was grateful to Meaty for catching the lizard. Until the Greatest called on his lunch break and I relayed the harrowing story of how a lizard was three inches from my leg. The Greatest has a theory on how the lizard got all the way upstairs and into our Master Bathroom. He thinks Meaty snuck the lizard into his bedroom in the first place. He said Meaty was acting very odd a few days ago and appeared to be hiding something. The Great Detective can't prove anything, but he thinks the lizard in our bathroom is the same lizard Meaty has been keeping in a box on our back patio. And Meaty caught him so quickly because it is his pet lizard that he has been hand-feeding crickets for the past month and petting every day.

BOYS!

So glad I've only got to live through one of them. I don't think my heart could take more than one small boy sneaking and losing pet lizards in the house.

Just not my day

2011-06-21T19:42:00.000-04:00

Headache today.

We're messing around with my migraine meds, and it ain't pretty. Just low level pain today, not too bad yet, but it is threatening to blow up in a big way. I can feel it.

Lovely.

So we hunker down and stay in inside. No pool. No park. No bikes. In short? No fun.

A lazy quiet day. Deep hair treatments to head-off the damage all that swimming is doing to our hair (google SMT hair treatment and do it to your hair STAT). And NAILS.

Thirty perfect little fingers. For the record, Sweet Pea requested those "Zebra Nails." She saw them at the nail salon in Wal-Mart and has been dreaming of them ever since. Mine are not salon quality, but I've got the fact that she's three working in my favor. She doesn't know the difference. She thinks they look fantastic.

And thirty perfect tiny toes.

My first attempt at this picture came out like this.

I think our dog wanted her nails painted too!

Not so much fun for the boy today. But he got to play Plants vs. Zombies without anyone bothering him for their turn, so I think it was a win-win afternoon.

My soft cotton knitted ball is still soaking in a bowl.

Awesome.

Maybe I'll pin it out tomorrow.

Or maybe not.

It might be best not to set the bar too high right now.

Shamed Into Productivity

2011-06-20T18:26:00.002-04:00

Still a Monday.

Again.

My pink cardigan is still unphotographed in all its glory.

Again.

My blue blob is still unrecognizable as the sweater it will someday grow up to be.

Again.

Really, can you identify any of that as a sweater part?

And I simply could not face another Monday on my blog without having blocked my soft pile of loveable knitted shawl. But of course here it is Monday, and I haven't blocked it yet. So I quickly plunked it in a pile of water to soak just so I would have the appearance of progress.

I'm closer to blocking than I was yesterday.

Shame is a perfectly acceptable motivator right?

More Knitting?

2011-06-18T09:14:00.002-04:00

Yup-a-doodle! More knitting!

It is the companion piece to the Puerperium Cardigan. Because who can have a baby without a hand-made baby blanket?

Pattern: Serenity

Yarn: Vanna's Choice, dark grey, 8 balls? bad blogger I don't remember

Needles: size 4 and 7? maybe even a 5 and 8?

Modifications: I think I did some kind of modification on the blanket, maybe even one that was written into the pattern, a mod for a smaller blanket, but I don't remember what it was, I am such a bad blogger. I've been trying to plug projects into Ravelry lately so that I have some kind of trail for blogging later.

Review: I love this pattern. I love the way this turned out. I'm still kind of worried about the blanket. I choose acrylic yarn so the blanket could be machine washed. I think that's important in a baby blanket that is being gifted to a non-knitter. Machine washability is important. So I choose a beautiful washable grey. I knit the pattern and it was lovely to knit. A bit of a pain towards the end when I had eleventy billion stitches on the needles and they were rather hard to move, but it was worth it. Until I got it off the needles and discovered the middle of the blanket didn't lay flat, it popped up like a mushroom. Not so awesome. I blocked it with my steam iron to kill the acrylic. And it was steamed into submission, it laid flat and was beautiful.

Only my steam iron was acting up. It has been dropped one two many times, and has a huge crack, and was leaking water, and was sketchy with the steaming. I'm worried it wasn't all steamed into submission. It looks good now, but I'm secretly worried that the first time the blanket gets washed that mushroom in the middle is going to pop back up. So everyone cross their fingers that I did a good job killing the acrylic and it is really dead, and it doesn't go all zombie and rise up the first time it comes into contact with soap and water, k?

But until the inevitable acrylic zombie apocalypse (which is way worse than the usual human zombie apocalypse) don't my cables look beautiful?

Friday Loving

2011-06-17T08:43:00.002-04:00

Today I'm loving....

Plants vs Zombies

Their favorite part is watering their zen garden, but I think mustache mode comes in at a close second.

And I'm loving...

My Slushie Maker!

What can I say? I thought what I had with The Greatest was special. But this is true love. I don't like things on my kitchen countertops. I only leave appliances on it if I'm going to use them daily. So the only appliance I leave out is my blender. And now my slushie maker. Which is making my blender obsolete. The thing is heaven sent.

And I'm loving...

Cannon balls!

Summer is officially here!

What are you loving?

Imagine That

2011-06-16T10:36:00.001-04:00

Who would have thunk it? I've got some finished knits to show off around here! And they're my favorite kind of finished knits: Baby Knits!

Pattern: Puerperium Cardigan

Yarn: Telemark, discontinued color: Leopard, 2 balls

Needles: Size 6 Addi Turbos

Modifications:None

Review: Love this pattern! It was a joy to knit, no modifications required. Very cute, very simple lines. Love everything about it. Pork Chop's best friend was getting a little brother and I knit this for him. He was early and is unimaginably tiny. At a month old he is only five pounds. I've seen him, he is darling, but I still can't wrap my head around the concept of a five pound human being.

This sweater is meant to fit a 6-8 pound baby, and it looks like it will fit him this fall. Which is rather perfect. I had intended it to be a light sweater to wear in the chilly air conditioning, but really, whenever it fits is fine. I just love the way it turned out. And the Mother seems to love it too (or was gracious enough to pretend she loves it) so that makes it a double win. I even love the simplicity of the neat little line of black buttons against the light grey garter button band.

Does knitting get any better than this?

Pork Chop

2011-06-15T13:44:00.005-04:00

Today is a momentous occasion. It is the 11th anniversary of the day I became a Mother for the first time.

Happy Birthday Pork Chop!

My Pork Chop is by far one of the most amazing people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. She is creative, and insightful, and artistic, and hysterical. She is witty, and kind, and scary smart. I adore almost everything about her. She cleans her room. And helps her three year old sister make her bed. She earns straight As and is disappointed when she doesn't earn straight A+s by one lowly regular A. She fills her bag full of candy from the pinata then gives most of it away to toddlers who didn't get to fill their candy bags full of sweets. She is by far a joy to parent and I don't feel like I can take any credit at all for raising such a delightful individual. She just is who she is and she is wonderful.

Happy Birthday Baby. I love you!

Blarg

2011-06-13T08:40:00.002-04:00

My adorable pink knit is still unmodeled.

My soft flovable ball of unblocked knit is still unblocked.

My blue blobby WIP knit is still blobby and looks pretty much the way it looked last week.

Must be a Monday morning.

And I just realized my Knitpicks knitting deadline is not July, it is next week.

Happy Knitting!

Friday Lovin'

2011-06-10T07:38:00.000-04:00

Oh yeah Baby! It is indeed the triumphant return of Friday Lovin'!

And I'm loving...

"Gnomeo and Juliet." I'll admit it. I rolled my eyes so hard I thought I sprained something when I first heard about this movie. But the kids were being so good I got it for them from Redbox. I don't mind wasting a dollar on a bad movie at Redbox. But I was surprised, this movie is DARLING. I adore it. I'm completely smitten with gnomes now. Which leads me to point number #2.

I'm loving....

my gnome. I mentioned on facebook that I wanted to decorate my entire backyard in gnomes a la Gnomeo and Juliet and a few days later my dear friend dropped this off at my door. Don't I have the BEST FRIENDS?!!!!! And isn't he darling?!!!! And aren't I in danger of having my house stormed by the punctuation police at any moment for my over misuse/overuse of punctuation?!!!!! But my impending incarceration for crimes against grammar is neither here nor there. Back to the matter at hand: my darling gnome. Sweet Pea named him "Fiona." When I pointed out that Fiona is more of a girls name she quickly changed her mind to "Santa Claus." I think it is a rather fitting name for a gnome that resides in our Christmas tree that lives year round on our back patio.

I'm loving....

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visits from Grandpa!!!!!!! (there I go again, taunting the proper use of punctuation, what can I say, I live life on the edge!) We all miss you so much. Just the other day Sweet Pea announced her HATRED for the airport because she wanted her Grandpa but he was at the airport, so she hated the airport with all the wrath a three year old can muster (which is a surprising amount of wrath. The airport should sleep with one eye open.) Come back soon!

And I'm loving this picture....

What are you loving this Friday?

Exciting Things

2011-06-09T09:26:00.001-04:00

Dear Blog,

Once again we have been kept apart for far too long.

Life is so busy, but the good kind of busy.

The end of the school year came faster than I anticipated.

There are boo-boos to be kissed. And games to be played. And books to read. And hours to waste swimming in the pool. I spend the majority of my day playing drill Sargent overseeing the daily chores. But the upside of this is I no long start my day by making all the beds in the house. The only bed I make these days is my own. Even Sweet Pea makes her own bed (or sometimes she cons Pork Chop into making it for her, as long as I'm not the one making her bed either scenario works for me).

Life is busy, but it is also sweet.

Of course there is fighting, and bickering. And the kids argue too. Some days I want to throw them all out the window and we are only on week three of Summer Vacation. Things aren't always picture perfect. But they're close enough that in a few years the edges of my memory will be fuzzy and all I'll remember are the afternoons listening to Pork Chop belt out songs to Rock Band on the X-box while her siblings cheer her on (she spent hours vainly trying to beat my perfect score on "Dani California" which I earned on my first try thank you very much. I jokingly tell her I earned it cause me and the Chili Peppers go way back. I can't bring myself to tell her it was 25% skill, and 75% luck). I'll only remember the lazy days in the pool, followed by late night roasting anything we can spear on a stick over our fire pit. Afternoons Pork Chop and Meaty spent huddled together plotting their anti-zombie strategies (it is a real meeting of the minds). These are the memories I'm going to hold onto. I fully intend to block the more unpleasant memories from my mind.

All this to say Summer Vacation is in fully swing, and I've been busy.

But we, my dear blog, have gotten an upgrade!

I can now sit with this beautiful view and visit with you.

A generous gift, no longer am I tied to my desktop. No excuses now! I hope to spend the early morning here, enjoying the backyard before the heat of the day descends. Visiting with you my dear blog. Because there is so much to blog about.

I've got a finished knit.

If only I could get Sweet Pea to hold still long enough to model it.

I've got an almost finished knit that is all knit and just needs blocked.

I floves this so much (and no that is not a typo, that's a rather vulgar term that I've become enamored with and just can't resist. Sorry). Wait until you see it.

And I've got something loverly on the needles.

As well as the usual kid cuteness.

I know, I know, you've heard it all before. Promises that I'll be a better blogger, more consistent, more faithful.

I'm not here to make promises. I'm just here to try. And I'm rambling because typing on the laptop is just so much fun. I see many long winded posts in my future until the novelty of my brand new toy wears off. So cross your fingers. This could be fun!

love,

me

More Love Letters To My Blog

2011-05-16T12:06:00.004-04:00

Dear Blog,

How the universe conspires to keep us apart.

I got up at 3 am on Friday morning.

Now why on earth would I get up at 3 am on Friday morning?

The old dog is old. And sometimes she whines a high pitched whine hitting that special frequency that makes me what to drive a railroad spike in my ear just to make it stop. She was making such a noise a 3 am on Friday morning.

So I got up and took old dog down stairs and let her out to go potty. Sometimes that fixes the air leak in old dog that causes the high pitched whine. Sometimes it doesn't. On this particular morning old dog seemed to have insomnia. She peed. She checked the perimeter of the yard, ever since the ninja attack she is extra vigilant. She sniffed every single flower. I got bored watching her and waiting for her to come back inside, so I wandered off to the computer to see how many sale ads and offers for penile related pharmaceuticals had arrived at my in-box during the three hours of sleep I had stolen from the night (the official tally was sale ads: 3 penile pharmaceutical: 7). I spent a little quality time on Ravelry. I sat there letting my brain cells die until I heard the bleed inducing whine at the back door. At which time I shut off the internet to let the dog back in the house. I gave her a drink of water and we both went back to bed.

Boring story right?

Here comes the part that made me bang my head against the wall, repeatedly.

At six-thirty on Friday morning I get up with the children and I discover my Windows profile is now corrupt and I can no longer log into my computer.

Everything worked at four am when I went back to bed with the dog. Everything is broken at six-thirty when I get up with the children.

I'm blaming Memphis for this.

She is my cute but evil evil bunny.

I'm pretty sure she was behind the ninja attacks.

My profile was gone. My internet wouldn't work. My files were still on the computer, but not easily accessible. I had no idea what happened.

I know enough about computers to be really really dangerous. And by dangerous I mean stupid. So before I did anything else I knew I had to get my pictures off the computer and onto disks. Three years worth of pictures to be precise. Every time my computer does something funky I scramble to get my pictures off of it. You would think I would learn my lesson and back up my pictures monthly, but no, this is a lesson I refuse to learn.

So I spent my weekend backing up three years of pictures onto 27 disks. Then I created a new profile in windows and copied my old profile to my new profile and so far the only thing I've lost are a few of my internet bookmarks.

But see how the universe conspires against us? Just when I had recommitted myself to our love. My computer crashing? My internet failing to connect?

I hope to be back tomorrow with pictures of knitting, but I'm sure I'll be back Friday with more excuses as to why I don't have pictures of knitting.

love,

Me.

A Letter

2011-05-10T17:35:00.002-04:00

Dear Blog,

I miss you.

The other day the children were late for school. It took me fifteen minutes and three drafts to write their letter explaining why they were late and asking that their tardiness be excused. There were ninjas involved. And conspiracies. What can I say, dark forces work against us. I'm pretty sure the office ladies get excited when my children are late. I heard the letter was photocopied.

It occurred to me that I might need a healthier creative outlet.

That used to be you dear blog.

We've been apart for far too long.

Let us never quarrel again.

Love,

Me.

Random

2011-04-09T23:21:00.002-04:00

Every time I hear The Greatest's miter saw make its scary miter saw noise all I can think is "Someone is going to lose a finger. . . and it's going to be Meaty."

For the safety of his ten perfect fingers that I worked so hard to grow all by myself, Meaty is no longer allowed in the garage.

Crumb

2011-02-09T10:36:00.002-05:00

So this morning I was getting dressed to run the children to school. I was just dropping them off so it didn't really matter what I was wearing. I just wanted to be warm. So I grabbed a sweater from The Greatest's laundry chair.

I suppose I should take a moment to explain the laundry chair. Let me go find picture of what my bedroom is supposed to look like. I know I have one.

Here's my bed.

And see those chairs?

Those are suppposed to be our "hide from the children and talk about our day" chairs.

But instead he has turned his chair into his laundry chair. On any given day it looks like this.

Some of those are clean. Some are not. I let him make the distinction. Notice how the laundry is no longer confined to his chair, but has made a hostile take over of the coffee table as well. I have my bunny holding ground on my chair but I fear it is only a matter of time before he tries to take my chair as well.

Three picture and five paragraphs to say, I was cold this morning and I took a sweater off The Greatest's laundry chair to wear to take the children to school.

It turned out to be the sweater The Greatest wants me to copy for Evil.

HOLY COMFY!

Now I get it. Now I get why he wants fifty more of this sweater. It is a perfect sweater. PERFECT. Usually I change after I take the kids to school and really get ready for my day. But I just want to wear this sweater all day long. I loves it so much. I might go ten rounds with The Greatest over ownership of this sweater. But I would lose cause he's got muscles and all that super special tactical training. So I guess I'll stick to stealing it when he's not home.

*sigh* I suppose I'm going to have to dig Evil 2.0 out of the corner I've hidden it in and finish knitting it after all. And take better notes while I do so I can then knit Evil 3.0 in a girly color. Cause man, this sweater is awesome.

Crumb. I hate when that man is right.

A Boy

2011-02-08T10:22:00.002-05:00

And his dog

Should dogs watch tv?

That Time of Year

2011-02-07T11:46:00.002-05:00

This can only mean one thing.

ITS HULA TIME!

And I've gotta make costumes.

And with an out of town guest coming this week, and all the cleaning that implies. And a Knitpicks deadline looming. And sick children (it was Pork Chop's turn to puke today). I am busy.

But I learned a new skill today

I can now make hula headpieces from flowers and raffia. Go Me!

There is something about making stuff, when you don't know how to do it the making seems like magic. Especially the making of the bottom headpiece. I thought I might be able to pull off the braided headpiece on my own. Maybe. But it wouldn't have been as nice. I know that for a fact. But when they showed me the red flowered piece and assured me it was simple you just "wrapped it" I felt queasy. And I was sure the queasy had nothing to do with our recent problems with a certain stomach flu. I follow direction well, but sometimes I need directions. And Auntie was kind enough to give me directions. And now I know something new! GO ME!

Two headpieces down. Only one to go. Plus three pau skirts, two dresses, one conch shell turned horn, and an ipu heke to go. And we'll be all ready for the Aloha Festival.

And we've got to learn the dances.

Not much.

Plus my cleaning.

And my knitpicks deadline.

And my sick kids.

It's that time of year.

The time I give up sleep.

Stocking Up

2011-02-06T11:43:00.001-05:00

Cause we keep taking turns throwing up.

Today is Meaty's turn.

Just because I own a camera...

2011-02-05T14:45:00.001-05:00

So I'm trying to take pictures every day. But I never seem to have my camera ready when I really need it. Like the other day when Meaty was playing with his beetle and our dog came to see what he was doing. They were so cute, the two of them together. I was right there, camera beside me. But by the time I turned it on I *almost* got the shot. But not quite. The dog moved on.

Or last night. We watched Jurassic Park for the first time with our children. Remember when the T-Rex eats the guy sitting on the toilet. He just leans forward and bites hims, and kinda shakes hims around. Meaty and Bird were sitting at the kitchen table behind me eating pizza. I turned around to check on them, because it was an intense scene. And I wish I had possessed the foresight to have had my camera ready. The look on Bird's face was was priceless. Her eyes have never been wider and her hands clasped over her mouth. I think she was afraid to move lest the T-Rex should spy her through the tv. It would have been a great shot. And don't worry. I took her upstairs for some "Wonder Pets" distraction and she slept through the night just fine last night. She is no worse the wear today.

Or Sweet Pea gently pretending to give tea to my toy bunny. It was so sweet. She was framed by the light from my sliding glass door. She was dressed all in pink. I'd even managed to brush her hair that day. Would have been a perfect shot. But my camera wasn't even on the same floor we were on.

Gotta be better with the camera.

Stationary

2011-02-04T07:30:00.002-05:00

Still feeling unwell. My tummy hurts when I move. So I move as little as possible. This translates into lots of sitting still on the couch for me. I decided it would be a fine time to finally finish a little project a I started ages ago.

My friend wanted a hat.

So I knit her a hat.

Then it sat in my drawer waiting for the ends to be woven in for months. The longer she waited the guiltier I felt.

So I knit her another hat.

And it joined the first in the drawer, waiting for the final finishing work. Months passed. Guilt grew. I found the perfect pattern for some purple yarn I had purchased with her in mind.

I knit another hat.

But this time I finished all three hats. I've even taken photographic proof that I finally finished knitting for her (because she didn't believe me until I showed her photographic proof). But you must promise to ignore my un-brushed hair and lack of make-up. As I've already stated I'm feeling unwell and moving as little as possible. Brushing my hair would have required a larger commitment of going upstairs to find the hairbrush, and I was unwilling to move that much. You're lucky I got off the couch to go take some bad self-portraits in the bathroom mirror in the first place.

I'm feeling unwell, and that makes me lazy, so I'll just give Rav links to patterns for anyone interested. The first is a Sockhead Hat. I loves this pattern so much. The second is a Jovie The Elf Knock-Off Hat. And I lied. That's not a Rav link. The last one is my favorite, Bertrand Louis. It is a cowl that can be worn as a slouchy hat or folded into a beanie. I'm going to have to make one for myself very very soon. Since I'm still feeling like sitting on the couch is all I'm capable of doing I might go cast on for one now.

A Beginning

2011-02-03T14:41:00.000-05:00

Teaching her all my bad habits.

Bragging

2011-02-02T10:35:00.002-05:00

Cause this is the place where I can.

Progress Reports came out today.

Pork Chop

Meaty

Bird

Dang, my kids are smart!

Ooooooh Knitting

2011-02-01T09:30:00.003-05:00

Knitting posts have been a little thin around here. So I'm gonna do another lazy show-off of something I've knit.

Pattern: Aunt Maggie's Slippers

Yarn: One Strand Wool-Ease? (I threw the ball band away, I'm so bad lately, I don't know what's gotten into me) and one strand Red Heart

Needles: Could not tell you if my life depended on it. Maybe 9? Maybe 10? I know what's happened to the careful note-taker I used to be.

Modifications: I know there were some. I used someone's notes from Ravelry but I don't remember who's notes. And I can't find them. What has happened to me? Can I blame this lack of memory on the fourth child? Or my new meds? Cause this is really bad.

Review: These slippers look big. Cause they are. They're not actually mine. I made them for The Greatest. He'd been complaining about how cold his feet were. We're finally fully acclimated to our new climate and the winters are now bitterly cold to us. We can never return home, people would mock us and point at us. Plus, we'd die from the cold. I've always been one of those annoying people who is "always cold". Cold in the winter. Cold in the air conditioned summer. I hated that about myself. I loved living here and never feeling cold. But now I'm back to always being cold. I wear layers upon layers once again. My children wear layers upon layers. My daughters always have tank tops on underneath their shirts. My son never goes to school with less than three shirts on. We are considering another move closer to the equator so I can once again be warm. I am really looking forward to the triple digit summer. Please come soon summer. But I digress. I'm supposed to be talking about slippers.

The Greatest had cold feet. And they ached. I love The Greatest. And I did not want him to have feet that were so cold they ached. I wanted to buy him a pair of slippers. But we have a budget and The Greatest did not want to budget money for a new pair of slippers. He felt our resources were better spent elsewhere. I worried for days. I stayed up at night thinking about this. I contemplated buying the slippers anyways. I contemplated working the slippers into the budget next month, but that meant a whole month with cold feet. The matter weighted heavy on my mind. I did not want his feet to ache. And then I had the dumbest of "I am so dumb" moments. I am a Knitter with a Capital K. And I have lots of yarn. Let me refer you back to this post for my yarn. I could KNIT HIM a pair of slippers. *face palm* Cause that's what knitters do. We make things to keep people warm.

So knit I did. One strand of wool for warmth, one strand of red heart for durability.

And today I am COLD. So while The Greatest is at work I am wearing his slippers. And I'm not gonna lie. They're pretty awesome. I might need to knit a pair for myself. A better fitting pair. In prettier colors. Cause I'm not gonna lie. These are kinda fug.

Again?

2011-01-31T10:51:00.002-05:00

They stay busy with art supplies while I lie in bed and pray for death. I have the stomach flu. Again. Didn't I start the month sick? January was not kind to me. 2011 is not looking like my year.

Don't break the spell

2011-01-30T10:40:00.002-05:00

They're not arguing. Had to take photographic evidence. And had to take said photographic evidence through the window so as not to break the magic spell some kind fairy obviously put on them for my benefit.

P.S. do you see the pickle jar?

More on the Boy

2011-01-29T10:24:00.002-05:00

Someday someone is going to have to explain to me how carving a car out of a block of wood is going to turn my son into a fine upstanding citizen.

Cause I'm not seeing the straight line logic on that one.

Meaty had his very first Pine Wood Derby today and I must confess I was dreading it a just a bit. But it was actually tons of fun. Tons of fun that I forgot my camera for. Bad Blogger, no cookie for me. There were ten boys in his troop and they wanted everyone to get to race lots of times, so instead of doing a tournament elimination style race they had each boy race each boy, twice.

Meaty's car raced inconsistently. It really liked one side of the track and won on that side of the track every time. But it didn't like the other side of the track, and it was hit or miss on that side of the track. He had a really good time, which is the important part. He did a little "yes" with a arm movement when he won, and he just looked forward to his next race when he lost. He didn't place in the top three, but we think he came in fourth by the "Father's" unofficial calculations. (All the Fathers migrated to the end of the track studying the cars, predicting who was going to win each race, calculating who was winning overall, who wasn't, what they could do better for next year, it was hysterical).

This year, being our first year, was a learning year. We got the lay of the land. Learned how things work, what doesn't work. And next year, It IT ON. The Greatest and Meaty are already planning their design.

I've got to be honest. And I could be burned at the stake for saying this out loud, much less putting it in writing for all the world to see. This is even worse than when I confessed to loving my Knitpick Needles more than my Addis. It is that bad. But you know me. I keep it real.

I'm not in love with scouting yet.

I fear it is going to take over our lives.

At least I've only got the one boy right?

And he's so happy. How can I deny him anything that makes him so happy?

Boys

2011-01-28T10:09:00.002-05:00

He wants a pet beetle. This is why I have three girls and only one boys. I don't do pet beetles. I'm a good Mom. Not a spectacular Mom, but a good Mom. I let him have his pet beetle. It currently lives in a pickles jar on the back porch and is not under any circumstances allowed in the house (a spectacular Mom would let him keep it on his dresser, see, not a spectacular Mom, and I can totally live with that, good is good enough, don't want to set the bar too hight for his future wife). He gave it a spider to be his friend (so now it really really can't come in the house). I can't decide if the beetle is going to eat the spider or if the spider if going to eat the beetle, but either way I hate setting someone up to get eaten alive. I know it's "nature" and all, but is it really nature if it happens in an old pickle jar on my back porch? It just seems like a horrible way to die. I don't want to be eaten alive. Girls never make me ponder my own death. This is why I have three girls.

Big Girl

2011-01-27T10:04:00.003-05:00

No longer content to dress herself, she must now do all her personal grooming. I guess she got fed up with all the pigtails. So if you see her out in public, you'll understand what's going on with her hair. *sigh* She likes to do things herself.

You'll notice my blogging has been nothing but my random Project 365 pictures. And since I spend my days with Sweet Pea, she is often the subject of my 365 pictures. I hope to someday have time to type actual words. But not today.

Exhausted

2011-01-26T20:10:00.002-05:00

Wish I could still fall asleep wherever, whenever, however.

Youth is wasted on the young.

Intervention Time...Again

2011-01-25T20:04:00.001-05:00

I can't deny it

The pigtail obsession can not be stopped.

And I've eaten nothing but chocolate chip cookies today. I'd better go find something with protein. Or maybe something leafy and green.

Better

2011-01-24T10:42:00.002-05:00

Some days are harder than others.

But

Pigtails. . .

Chocolate Chip Cookies. . .

And a new projects for Knit Picks. . .

Somehow makes everything better.

A good nights sleep and a shower helps too!

My Trend-Setter

2011-01-23T10:12:00.001-05:00

I just can't convince her

that leg warmers go on her legs. Maybe she'll start a new fad.

Does this count as showing off a FO?

Is so it is a really pathetic attempt. I'm pretty sure I used a pattern from Ravelry, but I can't seem to find it now. The yarn is Red Heart from Wal-Mart. Fancy stuff around here. Remember the good old days when I thought I had outgrown using Wal-Mart yarn. "It was good for beginners but....." Yeah. I'm so funny. We should all laugh at me. And then immediately write letters to Wal-Mart demanding they upgrade their yarn aisle STAT.

Just a basic ribbed pattern with an easy peasy cable down the center.

And she likes them just fine...as arm warmers *shrug*

I think I knit them on my size 6 Knit Pick Harmony Options Interchangable Needles.

Which brings me to the saddest tale of sadness I have ever had to tell.

It it simply too sad. I can't bring myself to tell it.

I'll just skip to the end and show you pictures instead.

I am beside myself with grief. R.I.P. my beloved size 6 Knit Pick Harmony Options Interchangable Needles. Your colors were gaudy, but your finish was so smooth, your cable so flexible, your joins so seamless, and your tips so perfectly pointed you won my heart. I prized you above all my needles. Even my Addis. You were my favorites. I would knit things on size 6 needles just so I could knit with you. I learned magic loop just so I could knit with you more. I will miss you forever.

Or until I can order a new pair.

The Insanity Begins

2011-01-22T10:05:00.001-05:00

Grand plans for the Pinewood Derby Car.

Bird

2011-01-21T14:13:00.002-05:00

I just love her quirky fashion sense. Someday she will hate me for letting her leave the house like that. But in my defense, she's six. And that is her favorite outfit.

No Tears Here

2011-01-20T14:08:00.002-05:00

Hard to cry over spilt milk

When it spills in such a sweet fashion.

Strawberry milk, the breakfast of champions.

Fancy

2011-01-19T14:24:00.002-05:00

Fancy hair. Today, I'm so excited, I get to go pay the water bill. Then, as if that weren't enough, I get scrub the dining room floor. And when I'm done? The heart pounding excitement isn't over. I get to start decrapifying the kitchen. Just think of all those cabinets crammed full of stuff. I can't tell you what's in half of them. Which mean I don't actually need what's in half of them right? Which means I can throw away half of that stuff right? Thrilling life I lead isn't it? At least I'll look glamorous leading it. Aren't you jealous?

What Is This?

2011-01-18T14:10:00.002-05:00

KNITTING!

I'm not 100% sure about this project yet. But I keep chugging along anyways. I can't decide if the random stripey-ness is all kinds of brilliant or seven kinds of wrong. The yarn is Araucania Ruca. 100% Sugar Cane. How cool is that. My sweater is sweet. The knit fabric is smooth and all kinds of drapey. And this is the good kind of drapey. I'm leaning twards loving this sweater. We'll have to see what the sleeves do. The pattern is Mothed. You know I'm gonna add a ton of length to those sleeves, cause sleeves ending there would drive me all kinds of crazy. And some length to the body while I'm at it. Cause we've discussed this before, belly shirts are not for me. But sugar cane yarn appears to be my thing.

Coming Together

2011-01-17T10:44:00.003-05:00

It is starting to look like home again.

I just can't turn and show you the other side of the room.

I Can't Decide

2011-01-16T10:26:00.001-05:00

For the past week I have been working my tail off "decrapifying" the house. I've gone through closets, and drawers. I've cleaned under beds. I've found an astounding amount of candy wrappers in the most amazing of places. I've moved furniture. I am killing myself. My house will be a house of order once again.

The Greatest is helping. He really is. And one of the projects he took upon himself to do was to light my yarn cabinet.

TA-DA

How cute is that! I loves it so much. My lights are one of the first things I plug in in the mornings, and one of the last things I turn off before I go to bed at night. I do love it. I really really do. And I know shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth...

BUT...

I just can't decide his motivation.

I know I sound a little crazy, but follow me on this one.

I've come up with two possibilities.

Either

A) He is really pleased with the dismal failure that is Evil 2.0 and he just wanted to do something nice for me because he loves me and he really is The Greatest. *dreamy swoon*

Or

B) He's realized that I've been secretly buying yarn and stashing it in my dark cabinet, and now that it is all brightly light and my yarn is super highlighted, secret yarn purchases will be impossible to hide in this cabinet.

I'm going with A, but B is taunting me from the back of my mind. I keep reminding myself he is a man. Men don't usually have hidden agendas. They just come out and say what they mean.

I think I will go ponder it further as I admire my yarn.

Can't See The Forest

2011-01-15T10:14:00.000-05:00

Around here we love Christmas.

We do.

I won't apologize for that.

Our decorations goes up a few weeks before Thanksgiving. Every thing that stands still gets garland and lights. I've documented this before. The dog is scared to take a nap lest she wake up covered in tinsel and bows. My husbands dream is to have our house so brightly lit with Christmas lights that it shines like a beacon for miles around. Out of respect for our neighbors I try to temper that dream. I'm sure they like to sleep at night.

This year we acquired, by various means, new-to-us trees.

Six new trees to be specific.

That brings our total of Christmas trees to Eight.

Dang, eight sound like a lot.

And now I do feel the need to apologize and explain myself. Only two are large. Our largest one The Greatest has had for twenty years. The other large one goes in our bedroom. The rest are smallish. Two are outdoor trees. Three go in the kids bedrooms. One small three foot tree we didn't even unpack this year. It doesn't sound so bad when you find out they were all in bedrooms right? But still

That isn't even all of them.

It might be time to admit we have a problem.

Just Like Clockwork

2011-01-14T09:59:00.000-05:00

My Pork Chop is Student of the Month.

(for our privacy identifying information has been blacked out. It is ugly, but you understand.)

I'm so proud of you baby. I am grateful for you being who you are and doing what you do. You are amazing.

And every year I appreciate the excuse to go eat doughnuts in the library. Cause when else are you allowed to eat in the library? It always feels slightly naughty to have such sticky hands so close to all those books. This year we sat right next to the computers and I about had a heart attack with Sweet Pea and her chocolate icing covered hands near all those key boards. And I still shudder at the memory of her juice box. Nothing really happened, but it was the constant possibility of disaster looming over us at every moment. That is what being in public with a three year old is, the constant possibility of looming disaster. Now I can't remember why we had so many toddlers.

But I digress.

I'm proud of you Pork Chop!

Home Repair Gone Horribly Wrong

2011-01-13T20:33:00.002-05:00

So I'm on this mission to make my home livable once again. Cleaning, decrapifying, fixing. This is where the joint compound comes in.

My bathroom bunnies have decided that drywall is a tasty tasty treat. Yeah. Not as awesome as one might think. They no longer get free run of my bathroom. They now get free run of a playpen in my bathroom. In the middle of my bathroom. Far from the walls. And boy are they angry about the entire affair. Every night one, or maybe both of them, hops the entire perimeter of the play pen, dropping little pellets of rabbit poop along the perimeter as they go. They then push these tiny pellets of rabbit poop under the bottom of the playpen. Their message is clear. They are marking their territory. Fine you want us in the playpen? This playpen is now ours. Do not cross our line of poop.

We make sure to go in their playpen every single day to pet and annoy them.

They are very angry bunnies.

But they have such cute butts it is hard to take their wrath seriously. This is why bunnies as an animal have never been taken seriously as an evil super power. Their butts are just too cute.

The Greatest came home and found me with my joint compound, my patience exhausted, ready to take matter into my own hands. And he decided it was time to tackle the "honey do" list. Maybe some good did come from my trip to Lowes.

He fixed the walls in the bathroom for me. He fixed the leaky faucet in the kids bathtub (after much googling on my part I might add). He hung some things on the walls for me. He removed the door to the laundry room (something I've been asking him to do for over a year) He tackled the leaky kitchen sink.

And this is where it kinda fell apart.

But it wasn't his fault.

The faucet was too corroded.

And I don't think it was put on correctly in the first place.

But he couldn't get a piece off.

He tried and tried and swore and tried and tried and twisted and tried and swore.

He put some kind of lubricant on it and let it sit.

Repeat the above attempt.

We bought WD-40.

There was more trying. More twisting. More swearing. There was some scratching of the faucet. Then the faucet broke. The part he was trying to twist off never did twist off.

Back to Lowes we go.

*Yikes, ignore the dirty window. In my defense that dirt is all on the outside, and yet another thing to add to my to-do list: Wash the outside windows.*

I love my new kitchen faucet. It is shapely, and spot resistant. Best of all, when you turn if off the water stops coming out of the top. And because he spoils me, he bought the matching reverse osmosis faucet to go with it.

I just don't don't know how to tell The Greatest that I walked by the kids bathroom after tucking them into bed and I heard the tub dripping again.

The Eye of the Storm

2011-01-12T08:09:00.002-05:00

I'm feeling moderately better. Good days, bad days. They're all there. But more good days than bad days, so that is hopeful.

Since you know how I like to keep it all real and stuff on my blog I'll straight up tell you, my house is a wreck. It still looks like Christmas threw up here. All the decorations are up. Toys are everywhere. It seems like there is always laundry in my living room. Clean laundry in neatly folded piles on the couch to the right. Dirty laundry in neatly sorted mountains to the left. The pots and pans don't seem to get washed until every pot and pan NEEDS to be washed. There are dogs toys, and bunny fur, and I always seem to be stepping over something to get where I need to be.

This is a very different sort of house than what I usually keep.

If you're local, and you drop in unannounced, I'm not gonna let you in.

It's that bad.

And it has been this way for a while.

But the good news is I'm feeling good enough to be bothered by it.

I've actually been bothered by it for several weeks now, but I'm finally feeling good enough, or fed up enough, to do something about it.

The hardest part seemed to be picking a place to start.

Do I start in the living room? It is the first room people see when they walk in my house. Or do I start in the kitchen? I do have all those pots and pans. Or the family room? We do spend most of our time in that room. The laundry room? Let's start small. Maybe the coat closet? Let's start really small.

See, I wasn't just going to straighten up or dust and vacuum. I was going to decrapify my house while I was at it. No corner would be left unturned. No possession would be left unexamined to be sure it was still wanted and in the best place. With God as my witness my home was going to be clean an organized once again.

If only I could figure out a place to start.

After debating all morning (which sounds so much more productive than surfing the internet, which is how I really spent my morning) I finally decided to start at the back of the house and work my way forward. My closet it is. During December my closet is the hiding place for all of Santa's early deliveries. they are stashed behind the clothes, and it inevitably turns into a big mess in there. But now.

There are no clothes on the floor. All my drawers are full of neatly folded clothes. I took out all the clothes that don't fit me *sob* so there's lots of room in my drawers. But I'm gonna call that an excuse to buy new clothes right? Everything is hung neatly on hangers. And I was impressed by all the hand knit sweaters I have that were never on the blog. I should do something about that.

That messy part on the shelf? Those are The Greatest's clothes. I'm not his Mom. He can fold his own #*%@ clothes if he is so inclined. I'm still impressed I folded my own clothes.

I also noticed The Greatest has twice as many shoes as I do. What's up with that? I know I'm shoe deprived but really? That is ridiculous. I need to go shopping. STAT.

The Birthday Boy

2011-01-11T08:08:00.001-05:00

I'm not entirely sure how Eight happened. But I've got a year to figure it out so I can stop Nine.

Seriously

2011-01-10T18:08:00.002-05:00

Today, while The Greatest was at work and the older children were at school, I ventured into Lowes with Sweet Pea in tow.

After consulting the helpful worker guy in the snazzy smock we came away five dollars poorer, but we have a moderately sized container of this.

I'm going to go on the record right now as officially stating: No good can come of this.

Evil 2.0: Take 2

2011-01-09T12:21:00.003-05:00

So Evil 2.0 took four days to dry. Should have used a second towel to squeeze out the excess water before pinning it out. All that mounting anticipation only to discover....drum roll here....the sleeves look off. I've got a theory. My sleeve cap is too tall for a sweater with the amount of ease this sweater has. I need a shallower sleeve cap. I think. But I'm also thinking I didn't decrease enough stitches for the armpit on the actual sweater itself. To fix the first problem I just have to take off the sleeves, rip out the very top of the sleeves, re-knit them, and sew them back in place. It will take an afternoon. Then I cross my fingers and re-block. To fix the second problem I have to take off the arms. Take off the collar. Rip out the entire top half of the sweater front and back to the armpit. Decrease more stitches there, and then re-knit the sweater from the arm-pit up. This will take a few weeks. I'm going to try just fixing the sleeve caps first. Everyone cross their fingers for me.

Just thinking about it makes me sad. And tired. I've had a migraine since Thursday. All those pain pills I had left from December? Gone. I'm feeling better today, but I'm going to spend most of the day in bed anyways, taking it easy, making sure I don't relapse.

While I was waiting for Evil 2.0 to dry I knit myself a sweater *giggle*. I did. I knit myself a sweater from start to finish in four days *giggle* The entire time I was working on Evil 2.0 I worked ONLY on Evil 2.0. So when I was finally able to work on something else I worked on it with reckless abandon. And it flew by. But it was a cropped cardigan with negative ease and three quarter length sleeves. So it wasn't a full sweater. And it's pale ballerina pink. Does anything about this sweater sound like anything I should be wearing? It is a disaster of epic proportions in the making, but I couldn't help myself. It is so darn cute. And it will look so cute over my summer dresses. I tried it on with my dresses when it was half knit with one sleeve. It is going to be super cute with my black paisley dress. So not me. I will wear it and pretend I am someone else. Someone who wears cropped cardigans and pale ballerina pink. It is soaking in a bowl of water now. I should go block it. It is a cardigan, which means that after I block it I will neatly fold it and add it to the stack of cardigans I have knit this winter that are patiently waiting for buttons. Buttons are the bane of my existence. I shouldn't worry about actually wearing this pale ballerina pink cardigan. The button pile is where cardigans go to die in my house. I should really learn to love pullovers. But I can't help myself. I'm drawn to the siren song of cardigans.

Enough random ramblings for today. If I had been planning some of that could have been clever or interesting instead of just rambling. Maybe I'll be clever tomorrow. For now I'll just distract you with today's random picture.

I think the dogs have the right idea.

Clue

2011-01-08T20:13:00.000-05:00

Training his future Detectives.

His Happy Place

2011-01-07T20:29:00.002-05:00

I've been in bed heavily medicated, so he's been in his happy place. It all works out nicely.

Quiet

2011-01-06T11:54:00.001-05:00

How can she be so little and so big all at the same time?

Today's Unrelated Picture

2011-01-05T16:51:00.001-05:00

A Tale to Tell

2011-01-05T10:52:00.003-05:00

Today my head hurts.

I've got a ton of things to do. Sweet Pea took a nap on the couch and peed on it. So I need to lug out the heavy carpet cleaner and steam clean my couch. And my vacuum is making a new and interesting noise, so I need to find my receipt from whatever "safe place" I stashed it a year ago, so I can then call the Dyson people and fight with them to make them fix my vacuum. And don't tell me all about Dyson's fabulous customer service. Cause I've got a broken yellow Dyson in my garage that says they won't do jack without the receipt. I feel exhausted at the idea of making a phone a call and fighting with them to fix what shouldn't be broken after only a year. I'm going back to $80 vacuums. The shelf life is just the same. And there's laundry and dishes. And my family room really needs vacuumed. Oh wait. I can't do that last one, cause my vacuum is making a new and interesting noise, so I gotta unearth my receipt from whatever "safe place" I stashed it a year ago so I can call the Dyson people....you see how the to do list cycles around in my head. But my head hurts, so all I want to do is sit still in one place. Enter BLOGGING stage left. Why didn't I think of this sooner?

So in my efforts to sit quietly in one place for a long period of time let me tell you a story.

A story of a poor wife.

The man she love.

And his unrealistic expectations of a sweater.

Go get a snack. And something soothing to drink. This could get long. And possibly ranty.

Once upon a time there was a wife who loved her husband very much. She thought he made the sun rise in the sky every morning. Her heart beat just for him. He asked her to make him a sweater. With stars in her eyes she assured him she would knit him anything his heart desired, just pick a pattern. She loved him so much, she dreamily thought of creating him a sweater of wool and love that would keep him warmer than any sweater known to man, cause you know, it was knit with love, and love is way warmer than wool alone. Ask any Grandmother, they'll tell you its true. And every time he wore this sweater he would feel how much she loved him. He just needed to pick a pattern.

They looked at every pattern they could find. But none suited the Husband. This one had the wrong neck. This one had the wrong sleeves. He didn't like the pattern on this one. This one was too plain. He was so picky the wife secretly wondered how he ever decided on anything he liked. But she didn't say such things out loud. That wouldn't have been very nice, a loving wife does not criticize her Husband. Instead she asked him what he DID like. He left the room and came back with a sweater from his closet. It was a sweater his beloved Grandmother had bought him. He wanted a replica of a sweater he already owned. The wife didn't get it. He already owned this sweater. Why did he want her to knit another sweater just like the sweater he already owned. Maybe he wanted it in another color? No he wanted it brown, just like the original. Different collar? No, same collar? Can she make it with dropped sleeves, since she was a new knitter and only knew how to make sweaters with dropped sleeves? No he insisted on set in sleeves, just like the sweater his Grandmother had given him. No, the sweater must be an exact replica of the sweater he already owned.

Feeling a little less starry-eyed, and a little more concerned about her ability to actually pull this off (set in sleeves?!!!) the wife started measuring the sweater. She measured and measured and measured until she could stall by measuring no longer. It was time to look for yarn.

Being poor and without a local yarn store they turned to e-bay for yarn. They found a cone of yarn in what the wife thought was a terrible depressing grey toned brown. But the Husband thought it was the perfect mushroom brown. And since it was His sweater they purchased the cone.

When the yarn arrived the wife was even more depressed by the prospect of knitting this sweater. The yarn was very stiff. So stiff it was like knitting with twine. The gauge swatch softened once it was washed. But knitting with the unwashed yarn left deep grooved in the wife's poor fingers. The Husband was not unsympathetic to her plight. He took her to the Big Box Craft store for some Simply Soft Yarn so her hands could take a break from the harsher wool. But he was not sympathetic enough to rethink the sweater. He still wanted the sweater. The depressingly grey brown sweater. Knit on size 3 needles. Impossibly tiny needles for a man's sweater. With a mind numbing 3 x 2 ribbing pattern. 3 x 2 ribbing that never ever ended, ever ever ever. With yarn that actually cut the knitter's hands. This sweater was Evil.

But the wife loved her Husband. She loved him so much she wanted to make him happy. So she knit the Evil sweater.

Sometimes.

And sometimes she knit soft baby sweaters. And booties. And hats. And she discovered Knitpicks. She abandoned Simply Soft and she discovered Wool. Not evil twine like wool that cut her fingers as she knit, but soft merino wool that was like knitting a cloud. And she discovered not so local yarn stores. She discovered Alpaca. And cotton. And cashmere. Oh the cashmere. She knit socks and socks and more socks. She dabbled in sock design and discovered she is no Cookie A. There was so much to learn and touch and knit. And in the corner there was always Evil.

She knit Evil. She knit miles and miles of ribbing for the body of the sweater. She knit to where the body would split for the armscye. And then she let it sit for a few years. Fear paralyzed her. Set in sleeves. Why did he have to insist on set in sleeves? Those stupid sleeves. She let it sit. She researched sleeve cap design. She lived sleeve caps. She designed a different sweater with set in sleeves. And the sleeves were failure. This did not bolster her confidence. Instead resentment started to grow. She hated this sweater. She hated this yarn. She hated the color. She hated the ribbing. She hated having no pattern. She might even hate her Husband just a little for being so darn picky. Fifty billion patterns in the world and he can't find one he like?

But then he comes home from work and kisses he so sweetly, and she is so happy he is safe, and she remembers how he is the reason her heart beats. And she forgives him. And she frogs the entire sweater (because after sitting for years her personal gauge has changed) and she begins anew.

And she knits miles and miles of 3 x 2 ribbing in depressingly grey brown color with yarn that cuts her fingers. It is Evil. She tries to ignore the voice in the back of her head that tells her this sweater will never be soft enough to wear. She is wasting her time knitting this sweater, for it will never be soft enough to wear. She knits the entire body of the sweater. She knits the arms up to the sleeve cap. She is almost done. So close to a completed sweater. All she has to knit is that dreaded sleeve cap. But in her heart of hearts she knows what the little voice says is true. She does not know what she is knitting with, but she suspects it is meant for weaving, or something other than hand knitting. It is yarn, but not all yarns are created equal and this yarn was never meant to be worn as a sweater.

When her Husband comes home that night she shows him the almost completed Evil and tells him it will never be a sweater. She will knit him a sweater, but not this sweater. Not with this yarn. He says he understands, but she can tell he doesn't. He just knows that she has been knitting for seven years and has not knit him the one thing he has asked for.

The wife loves her Husband, he makes the sun rise in the sky, but there are limits. The man needs to learn to compromise. She goes to her not-so-local Yarn Store. She buys some lovely chocolaty brown worsted weight yarn. It is soft and smooshy and warm. She knits on size 6 needles. She knits miles of 3 x 2 ribbing but it isn't so bad, because it is on larger size 6 needles, and the yarn is soft and smooshy and doesn't cut her fingers. And it is chocolaty brown, not depressingly grey brown. The only problem is her uncontrollably craving for Hershey kisses.

For three weeks she knits Evil 2.0 on the couch in front of her Husband and never once does he ask her what she is so industriously working on. She consults her knitting friends. She isn't sure if she should feel clever that she is working on his sweater in front of him and she can still surprise him with it, or if she should feel insulted, she's been working on the darn thing for three weeks and he hasn't once asked what she's working on. They decided she should feel clever. And the wife knit on, and on, and on. Until she reached the sleeve caps.

She calculated, and knit and sewed them in, and ripped them out, and recalculated, and re-knit and sewed them in and ripped them out, and recalculated, and re-knit and sewed them in and ripped them out. This went on all day. She sat on the couch watching movies with her Husband just knitting and un-knitting. The longer the day went on, the more frustrated the wife became. The Husband sat beside her all say long but remained silent regarding her knitting. At the end of the day she threw the whole thing down in frustration. She wanted her Husband to try the stupid thing on, but if he wasn't asking about the sweater she wasn't going to tell him, because she is just stubborn for no apparent reason like that. She threw her sweater down and cried "I hate all this stupid ribbing." To which the Husband replied "At least someone is getting a ribbed sweater."

The loving wife's head exploded right there on the couch.

As she tried to shove grey matter back where it belong she asked "Just what do you think I've been working on for the past three weeks."

"A sweater, you're knitting yourself a sweater. You're always knitting yourself a sweater."

"And why would I knit myself a brown 3 x 2 ribbed sweater."

"I don't know."

"Put the stupid thing on so I can check the sleeve cap."

And that is how the Husband found out about Evil 2.0. A few more rips and re-knits and the wife thought she might just have finally stumbled upon a sleeve cap that would work. But with all the pulled in ribbing she wouldn't be sure until after the blocking.

Which is where Evil 2.0 stands now. It is blocking. All brown and ribbed and so close to done the wife can't believe it.

And last night the Husband got a stern lecture that yes the wife is always knitting herself sweaters because she sees a pattern she likes, and then she knits herself a sweater from the pattern. Easy peasy. If he would like more sweaters then he needs to find a pattern he likes and she would be happy to knit him a sweater from the pattern. She'll even set him up on the Ravelry pattern browser to help him find patterns. Or he could divorce her and marry a pattern designer. Those are really his only options. Cause the wife has realized that she will not allow her love for him to be measured by the inches of wool she knits for him.

The End.

I'll give you a hint

2011-01-04T14:01:00.002-05:00

Any one want to hazard a guess as to what miles and miles of brown 3 by 2 ribbing blocking on my bedroom floor might mean. Because I think it might be one of the signs of the Zombie Apocalypse. But I could be misinformed. It could just be a sign of the regular Apocalypse. Either way it would be best to have your emergency kits ready and on hand at all times. And a loaded shot gun.

Just sayin'.

Dinner

2011-01-03T17:52:00.002-05:00

Peanut Butter Pancakes with maple syrup. Yum.

We don't worry about our sugar intake in this house. At least not when Daddy is working late and we can eat "fake food" for dinner.

Note the hopeful dog under the table. She is never far when the kids are at the table. That is the whole reason we have a dog. Did I say a dog? Cause we don't just have "a" dog, we have three. See all the things you missed when I wasn't blogging. That is a story for another day. The other two have not learned to lie beneath the table yet. They try to climb on top of the table so they are not allowed the big dog privilege of being out when we eat. Only the old dog gets the table scraps.

Lucky old dog.

Goodbye and Good Riddance 2010

2011-01-03T11:17:00.002-05:00

So it is safe to say that 2010 was a bad year for us. My health just went down hill. I had a headache. All year. It is so stupid. It's a headache. All this fuss for a headache. Something most people cure with Tylenol. But it is bad one. A end each day throwing up from the pain and praying for death cause it hurts so bad one and I'm so sick of hurting so bad each and every single day. I have chronic migraines that affect my daily life and I no longer live the life I am accustomed to. And I'm bitter and angry over the whole thing. In the past year I've been on three different preventative drugs. None of which have prevented, but they've given me a host of new and fun side effects (stupid pills make me stupid). I've been on a myriad of pain relievers. They've relieved in varying degrees, but if they really work I'm unconscious, which doesn't help much if I'm home alone with the children. I've seen specialists. I've been poked and prodded and weighed and given blood. It is all big big fun. My favorite part was when I went for a super special shot that was guaranteed to get rid of my headache and I was part of the 1% of the population that reacts badly to the shot and I left in worse shape that I arrive in. There was vomiting, and a shot to stop the vomiting, and more vomiting, and more shots to stop the vomiting, and more vomiting. I had to be wheeled out in a wheelchair. That was the highlight of my September (or was that October? it all blurs together at this point.) I wish I had been blogging. It was so sad it was comical. Would have made a good story. Maybe someday I'll type up the long version. It really is hilarious if you aren't the one it happened to. Much of my life is something from a comedy. I should be grateful for that. It is better to live a comedy than a tragedy right?

So lots of changes this past year. I've learned to live my life according to the spoon theory. If you aren't familiar with the spoon theory, go give it a read, it is interesting and applies to any form of chronic illness, not just me and my stupid head. I do less. Some days I push myself harder than others. Some days I have more "spoons". For a long time I simply didn't have a spoon for blogging.

And I missed it.

I save my pain pills for the worst of the worst nights. At the end of September I got a new Doctor. A new Doctor meant new pills. New preventative, and he upped my dosage of my pain medication. I get 10 very expensive pain pills a month, see why I save them for the worst of the worst nights. In October I took all my allocated pain meds for that month, plus all the lower dosage pain meds I had left over from my old Dr. On November 1st I was first in line at the pharmacy to refill my prescription. In November I took all my pain pills, but I took the last one on November 30th. I refilled my prescription on December 1st. I was surprised when I went to take a pain pill on December 29th and I discovered I still had half my pain pills left. So while I feel like my preventative isn't working as much as I would like I guess it is doing something besides making my feet feel like they have pins and needles all the time (see fun side effects).

I've realized that I've slowly gotten more "spoons" each day. I have more good days than bad. I'm careful. My days still revolve around pain management. It is exhausting to constantly think about my head and plan and compare and compensate if I do x then I can't do y. But there is hope now. And I'm hoping to add blogging back into my daily life. I can't promise words or stories each day. But I also want to try project 365 this year. So some days, like Saturday and Sunday, might be just pictures. Other days, you get pictures and word. And some days, like today, you get words and later on, an unrelated picture. Cause right now it is 10:00 in the morning, I still haven't gotten dressed yet, let alone thought about taking a picture. Hey go easy on me, I am a work in progress, as is my blog. But aren't you glad you're along for the ride?

So Sick

2011-01-02T11:09:00.000-05:00

Is this any way to start a new year?

I feel the same way Baby

2011-01-01T11:01:00.000-05:00

I try, oh how I try.

2010-08-12T14:05:00.004-04:00

I hate having pictures taken of myself in my knits. I always have to have The Greatest take my pictures. And he just doesn't have the patience to take a billion pictures looking for that One Great Shot. He takes A picture and calls it good. I can get Pork Chop to take my picture sometimes, but I always fear she'll drop my camera, or the younger children see Pork Chop with the camera and they want to take pictures too, and since they HAVE dropped my camera and broken it *sigh* I'd just rather not deal with it all. I'd much rather knit for my children and combine cute child pictures with show off my knit pictures. I like those pictures. But it is even worse when I have to physically take the pictures of myself in my hand knits. Like today. The Greatest is at work, and Pork Chop is at school. I'm trying to blog more consistently. I really NEED to blog. So what's a girl to do? I must be self-sufficient. I will take self-portraits. My deficient photo-taking skills are well documented. But in case you're new around here I'll re-cap.

When I take pictures of myself, first of all I'm resigned to the dreaded "bathroom mirror" photo shoot and all the bad lighting that entails. And I get shots like this

and this

And occasionally I get a shot like this

or this

Which makes it almost worth the aggravation. And then I realize you can see my cabinet with the broken door. And the random dog toy. And my sexy sexy toilet paper.

So I gave up.

The dreaded "bathroom mirror" photo shoot never ends well. Why do I bother?

I stuck my hat on the nearest person, who happened to be Sweet Pea. Let's be honest (cause I'm all about keeping it honest around here, did you see my sexy sexy toilet paper. Which by the way I'm down to only two rolls. Thank goodness payday is soon) With everyone else at school she was kinda my only option.

But she doesn't want to hold still.

And of course...

She's naked.

So kitchen counter pictures it is!

Pattern: Sockhead Hat

Yarn: Socks that Rock, I *think* this was also from Tina's Blue Moon barn sale, but Katrina will have to confirm that for me. I just know it was heavenly to knit. *sigh*

Needles: size 3 Addi Turbos

Modification:I went up a needle size from the pattern. It was supposed to be knit on size 2 needles. And I knit the entire hat on size 2 needles. And boy it was CUH-UTE! Of course I didn't take a picture before I frogged it. I really do suck. On size 2s the yarn knit up in a spiral rainbow stripe. I loved it. But it was a very tight knit, very stiff. Not as much drapey slouch as I was looking for. So we went to size 3s. I lost my stripe but gained more slouch. Life is all about compromise.

Review: I love this hat. I love it so much I knit it twice (see above). I kinda wish I had knit the ribbing on size 2 needles, and the slouchy part on size 3 needles. But I don't want to knit this hat a third time. I miss my pretty striped rainbow hat, but I like this French Impressionist watercolor thing I've got going on.

Despite the complete lack of flattering pictures of this project, this hat is a winner. I'm going to put it in a drawer beside my vampire socks where it too can patiently wait for weather that is under 100. I don't care how slouchy and fashionable this hat it, it is also warm inducing. Perfect for our wannabe winter weather. But not so great in August.

Stay tuned! I've got a sweater in my blocking bowl. And another neatly folded on my hutch just waiting for someone to take pictures of it. I know you all want to see self-portraits of my elbow in the bathroom mirror.

My heart belongs to The Greatest. But my neck is a vampire whore.

2010-08-10T13:57:00.004-04:00

So after contemplating the carnage of half knit every things stashed all over my house I decided I wanted to finish something. Anything. I began sorting out my projects to determine what could be finished the quickest with minimal frustration (cause lets face it, all these projects were instantly abandoned when they began to cause me frustration). Imagine my surprise when I discovered a completely finished pair of socks in my unfinished knits drawer. These puppies are DONE. They are all knit. The toes are kitchnered. The ends are all woven in. There is nothing left to do with these socks but wear them. What were they doing in the unfinished drawer? I suppose a some point I must have decided my knits aren't done until they've been blogged.

So lets blog them and call these puppies done!

Pattern: My Vampire Boyfriend

Yarn: Socks that Rock, and honestly, that's all I can tell you about them. I've lost the ball band. When did I become such a bad knit blogger?

Needles: Who knows? Could have been a 2. Could have been a 1. Could have been that funky size between a 2 and a 1 that still gets called a 1. Could have magic looped it. Could have been dpns. Not a stinking clue how these socks came into existence. Bad, BAD knit blogger.

Mods: No obvious ones that I can see.

Review: Honestly, I've only got the vaguest of vague memories of these socks. The more I stare at them, and ponder them, the more I'm starting to suspect that I didn't knit these socks. I think these socks were a gift from the Sock Fairy. In gratitude I must now burn some fun fur in an offering to the Sock Fairy. I LOVE these socks. I love everything about them. I love the name of the pattern. I love the yarn. I love the cables. I love all that reverse stockinette. I love the cable on the heel.

(you would not believe the balancing and twisting and general acrobatics I had to do to get that shot. We've had new neighbors move in over the summer. They have not yet had the pleasure of spying me taking pictures of socks yet. I wonder what they thought.)

I love how the cable looks on the toe.

I said it once, but it bears repeating: I adore the colors! My friend Katrina once talked to me about how she loved a bit of white in her variegated yarns. I had never really given the absence of white in variegated yarn much thought. Take a moment to consider it and you will realize very few variegated yarns include white. They're too busy dying the yarn with every crazy color combination they can think of to leave in boring old white. In fact a white spot is considered to be a "you missed a spot" type of situation. But I LOVE the white in this color scheme. LOVE IT! Red and pink and black without the white just wouldn't be the same. This yarn is so perfect.

And how perfect are these colors for a pattern titled "My Vampire Boyfriend." It fits right in with my "can only knit monster themed sock pattern" trend.

I love these socks so much.

And now that they have been properly blogged and documented for posterity the only thing left to do is wait for the temperature to dip below 100 so I can wear them without passing out.

Wonder what I can finish for tomorrow. I saw hat that just needs the yarn in drawn through the last few stitches, and the ends woven in. Three hats as a matter of fact.

Time for an Intervention....Again.

2010-08-09T11:21:00.004-04:00

It might be time to rethink my stance on knitting project monogamy and start finishing something. Anything. This is getting out of control.

Confessions of a Frugal Housewife

2010-08-07T08:43:00.000-04:00

I can no longer hide it.

I've got a secret addiction that can no longer be contained.

It had gotten so out of control the cabinet door won't shut.

Time are tough. That's no secret. In this day and age we do everything we can to save money. I clean with mostly vinegar and water or bleach water. We rarely use paper towels, only real washable/reusable towels. I'm so sick of yelling at the children to turn their bedroom lights off. We consolidate errands to save gas. We cook everything from scratch. We price match at the store. You name it we're probably trying it to save money.

I'm even making my own laundry detergent and stain remover for pete's sake.

And for the record my stain remover rocks.

But with all the frugality and self-reliance I've got one tiny dirty little secret.

*deep breath*

I LOVE WINDEX!

Again, I'm scrubbing the house with all kinds of homemade cleaners, but try as I might I just can't be satisfied with cleaning the glass with vinegar water. Don't get me wrong. It does the job. It gets it clean, but Windex makes it shine. And Windex makes getting the tiny fingerprints off effortless. And Windex rarely streaks (except for the wipes. I loathe the wipes).

I'll go for weeks cleaning with homemade glass cleaner, but anytime there is the slightest hint of extra money laying around I'll buy a bottle or two of Windex. I can't help myself. That blue bottle makes me so happy.

But as I stashed my latest guilty purchase in the cabinet I realized I can't close the cabinet.

Admitting you have a problem is the first step right?

Friday Loving

2010-08-06T11:09:00.003-04:00

Do you hear that?

Me neither.

My house is exceptionally quiet.

I must confess school is not without its charms.

Sweet Pea is contently enjoying her daily dose of Dora, uninterrupted by cries of "Mom, can I play the x-box, I hate Dora." Or remote thieves who would rather watch i-Carly.

The Greatest is sleeping upstairs. He worked last night but came home safely. I love this. When he's home safe and sound. Something in my heart stops working the moment he walks out the door and doesn't start again until he crosses our threshold safe and whole. It's almost as if I can finally take a full breath when I hear his key in the lock. I love that moment when I know for certain he is safe.

He's supposed to take me to lunch today. Don't worry. We'll still have the littlest chaperon

so we won't get into too much trouble. But it should still be fun. I've missed our friday lunch dates over the summer.

I actually don't have too much to say today. It is sprinkling off and on, so of course, my head is pounding. I'm just trying to get back in the habit of blogging.

Don't worry. In a week or two I'll hit my stride and be entertaining once again.

Don't Blink

2010-08-04T23:27:00.002-04:00

Cause you'll miss it.

If you blink you'll miss everything.

One moment it will be May and you'll be up to your eyeballs in all the end of the school year activities. The entire summer will be stretched out before you with the promise of lazy days, and fighting children.

And the next?

In a whirlwind of swimsuits and library books and grilled everything it will be the First Day of School.

And you will have absolutely no idea how that happened.

Seriously, how did that happen?

You'll look around and see a house that has spent two and a half months of leisure. As Pork Chop proudly told her former teacher "We didn't use the chore chart all summer." And we didn't. I kept threatening it. And when they fought I made them clean. But for the most part I decided the beds could wait to be made, and they did. They waited patiently. So did the legos, and barbies, and army men. The dishes and the laundry were not so patient, but even they waited as well. It helps if you're only wearing swimsuits. And after the Fourth of July we started eating off the left-over paper plates from our barbecue. It was heaven.

You will see a pile of floaties and beach towels. You will see half finished books everywhere, and they're not all mine. They're Pork Chops, and Meatys, and Birds, and even Sweat Peas (although I'm pretty sure that last one is functionally illiterate.) You will see the dinosaur zoo built with legos. And the stuffed animal tea party. And the annual world's biggest train track. (this year it ran from Meaty's room, down the hall, into his sister's room, under their beds, and back. Just in case you were wondering) You will see signs everywhere of a summer misspent in sloth. And well-spent in laughter.

You will sigh as you drop them off at school. New clothes just a touch too big because you know they'll grow. They always do. All the chlorine washed from their hair. Shiny faces excited for a new adventure. They've taken all they can from summer. And now they're ready to fill their heads with new things, new books, new words, new facts, new ideas. They're ready for it all.

I'm sad that in order to let them grow they have to leave me behind. I'm not quite ready to let the summer go. Not quite ready to share them with the world. I'd like to gather them all under my wings and read to them just a few more chapters. Swim with them just a few more laps. Tickle them just a few more giggles.

Thank goodness for Saturdays!

Cause I need another hobby

2010-04-22T11:23:00.005-04:00

I don't remember when or how I first stumbled upon Passing Down Crazy , but it was love at first sight. I loved her knitting, I loved her pictures, I loved her kids, I loved how she referred to her husband as her "Hero" and I loved her blog title. LOVE!

I stalked her relentlessly. Admiring her snow, her backyard, her humor, and above all, her knitting. Her lace shawls are perfection. Makes me want to knit loads more lace!

And then she published a post with a quilt!

It was all over from there. I was powerless against her quilts.

Can you seriously look at this, or this, or this, or this and not feel inspired?

It didn't help when Marie Grace started showing off quilts too. Suddenly I found myself in the tight grip of a new obsession. I NEEDED to quilt something NOW! Once upon a time I amassed quite the collection of fat quarters and other various pretty fabrics. There was simply no room for it in the great move of 2006 and we gave it all away to a woman who made baby quilts for all the babies at church. If I wanted to quilt something I was going to have to start fresh and go shopping.

And if we think about that for a second, is that really a hardship?

I decided it wasn't.

Now when I first learned to quilt I was taught by a Quilting Nazi, with a capital Q and a capital N. All quilts must be made with 100% cotton, and be pieced by hand. All batting must be "Warm and Natural" brand only. And all quilting must, Must, MUST be done by hand. Or it simply wasn't a quilt. The. End.

I'm not exactly sure what she thought the resulting item would be if one of her rules were broken, but her mind it most certainly would not be a Real Quilt(tm). I guess that would make it an Imitation Quilt(tm).

Once upon a time, being young and foolish and eager to please, I followed her rules to a T, and I think it was all the hand sewing that eventually led me to abandon quilting after Pork Chop was born. That, and all the pins I kept leaving on the floor. I decided that machine quilting was absolutely without a doubt the way to go this time. The Greatest, being The Greatest, and knowing me so well, knew that resistance was futile and bought me a set of quilting feet for my sewing machine.

I practiced meandering with my darning foot on old pieces of paper for hours. I'm still not sure I have the hang of it yet. I do have a baby quilt top just waiting for me to get the courage to try it out. Maybe someday. But not today. I've already moved on from that project. I think I must secretly like have UFO's hanging around. A little guilt is good for the soul.

Once the quilting bug took hold I started to haunt other quilting blogs. ~~I became completely obsessed with~~, I mean I was inspired by this quilt. I knew I had to have one of my very own. But not in orange. In pinks and red.

And my Valentine's Day Quilt was born

Now don't look too closely at my quilt. It's full of mistakes.

I actually think my piecing is pretty fantastic. I still remember a few tricks from the old days that translate well to machine piecing. I just love how the red and white stripes line up perfectly in the diamonds. I'd like to say I planned that when I cut the pieces, but that was the result of a happy accident of cutting, and a bit of care when piecing. And I'm simply in love with my 1/4 seam foot. I wanna kiss who ever created that right on the lips. Seaming Perfection!

Now it was when I decided to try my hand at machine quilting that things took a turn for the worse.

First off, they should really include a picture of the walking foot and how it is supposed to look. In case you're wondering it is supposed to look like this...

with the little arm thingie on TOP of the thingie that holds your needle in place. That accounts for one of my broken needles.

Now it also turns out that when they tell you to roll the unused sides of your quilt they know what they're talking about. Because if you leave it loose, and just try to shove the unused side through like this

You end up with this

no matter how carefully you've pinned it.

And when you stop to shove the loose side through to make it easier to keep quilting you should really leave the needle down in the fabric. Otherwise it tends to shift like this

yeah. I'm still not sure I've mastered this one.

And it is also a good idea to match the thread color to your binding, even if you've used white thread on the rest of the entire quilt.

I also discovered is not a good idea to set up shop at one end of the kitchen table and let your children eat at the other end of said table. Unless you want to quilt a quilt that already has a spot of dried yogurt and a kool-aid stain on it.

So there's a ton of mistakes in this quilt. But I think that's alright. I know I learn more from what I do wrong, than I do from the things I get right. In the meantime I love my quilt.

I couldn't resist a little bit of piecing on the backing.

And I had to make a striped binding with my leftovers.

Although I think if I had to do it all over again I might have bound the entire quilt in this fabric

I just love the polka-dots. And the unexpected blue flower.

I think the reds and pinks are all 100% cotton, but the white on the front is of unknown origin, and the white on the back is a cotton/poly blend. The top is machine pieced. The batting is polyester. And the actual quilting of the quilt was done by machine. I did sew the final binding seam by hand. I have made myself a genuine Imitation Quilt. And I'm in love!

Unfortunately Sweet Pea is also in love. The entire time I was making it she kept poking it and telling me "Sweet Pea Quilt." I would tell her in a sing-song voice "No, this one's for Mommy." And she would sing-song back to me "No, Sweet Pea."

Looks like I'd better make her gingham quilt soon.

I still managed to sneak in some face time with my quilt the other day.

I'd like to thank whoever is in charge of the weather for dropping the temperature enough for me to lie outside and enjoy my quilt.

Friday Lovin'

2010-04-16T11:36:00.002-04:00

So last week I was driving home after dropping the children off at school. I was in my jammies, no bra, unbrushed hair, and no shoes. I know. Could I get any sexier? In my defense...well...actually I have no defense. There is no rational explanation for why I couldn't take five minutes to make myself presentable. I've just been really tired lately.

Anyways, I was driving down the road looking at all the identical tan plastic trash bins lined along the road. I was thinking to myself how cluttered they make the tiny roadways look, and how much I hated trash day. I had a brief fling last summer with running, and I hated running on trash day. The street just smelled so bad from the rubbish rotting in their HOA approved containers. That's when I took to running alongside the canal. It was peaceful, and beautiful, and there was no smelly garbage. Perfect. Until the day I was a mile from anywhere and I met two feral dogs. I stopped running after that. But this is all neither here nor there. The part relevant to the story is I was driving along looking at all the trash by the road.

I only saw it because I was looking at the trash. Any other day I would have driven right by it without a glance. Between two trash bins was a small pile of dirty faded boxes. I wouldn't have given them a second thought, but taped to the boxes was a hand-lettered sign featuring the two most beautiful word in the English language:

"FREE HAMMOCK "

"Did you see that?!!!!!!" I asked The Greatest (who was riding in the car with me, fully clothed and wearing shoes. to this day I'm not sure why he didn't just take the kids to school and leave lazy jammied me at home) (and yes, I do speak in that many exclamation points!!!!!)

He had not seen the sign. I explained to him that there was a sign that said "free hammock." I pulled into our driveway and promptly pulled back out facing the direction from which I had just come. I was headed for that free hammock.

Now The Greatest does not understand trash day. I once found a coffee table I wanted on the side of the road on bulk trash day, and he insisted we knock on the door and ask the people who lived there if we could take the coffee table. They helped us load it into our car, happy to be free of the huge rectangle monstrosity. A couple of cans of black spray paint and we've got a fantastic coffee table in our family room. It is ginormous and perfect. But it still did not convert him to the joy of trash treasures.

As I pulled up to the dusty pile The Greatest did his best to discourage me. The boxes were faded and dirty and looked like they had gotten soaked and dried out several times. The only thing suggesting this pile was anything other than absolute garbage was the sign. And the only thing suggesting this unassuming pile was a hammock was also the sign. The Greatest told me I didn't need a hammock that badly.

But I did, I really did.

Growing up my Aunt had a hammock in her back yard. It was down at the base of a hill, under a huge shady tree. It was the perfect place to lay and read books. The fondest desire of my tiny childhood heart was to have a hammock of my very own, so I could lie in it and read books whenever I wanted to. The Greatest has a knack for fulfilling all my childhood dreams. He's tall, dark, and handsome. We live in a place where it is warm all the time and I can lie in the sun like a lizard and just soak up the heat down to my very bones. I've got a houseful of children. We have a pool. He planted me an orange tree. And now I was determined he was going to bring another dream to fruition and get me that hammock.

After all, he was the one wearing shoes.

He knows me. He knows when to just give it up and do what I want. So reluctantly he got out of the car. He stared of the dusty pile, not wanting to touch it, because touching it would surely get him dirty as well.

"I don't think its any good" He protested.

"Just put it in the car! Even if it is rusted and ruined we can fix the frame up and paint it, and having a hammock frame is one step closer to having a hammock."

Rolling his eyes, but indulging in my whims, he tried to pick up the boxes, but they were to awkward in shape for him to manage on his own.

So I got out of the car to help him, on the hot asphalt, barefoot. I really wanted that hammock.

The boxes smelled bad.

Like garbage.

Maybe this was a mistake.

I HATE it when The Greatest is right. I was starting to suspect he had not picked up the boxes because he loved me so much he can't deny me anything I want, and because he finds my crazy determination endearing. No. I was starting to suspect he had picked up the boxes because he wanted to tell me HIS favorite words in the English language:

"I told you so."

Sometimes he really isn't The Greatest.

Together we manhandled the boxes into the back of our SUV. I drove home grateful that The Greatest had to go to work later that morning, and figured I could deal with the rubbish while he was gone. If it turned out to be ruined beyond repair, or worse yet, not in fact a hammock but instead just a random pile of garbage that we had stolen and put in the back of our car, I didn't want him around. If things went south, I was lucky ,I could have the stuff back on the curb in front of our house, and quietly picked up by the garbage truck before he came home. He would never have to know how this all played out if it ended badly.

To my surprise, the moment we pulled into the garage, The Greatest hopped out of the car and started to unload the boxes (which I'd like to point out, he did by himself, no barefoot wife in the streets required). He was going to find out right away what we were dealing with.

We cautiously opened the first box. Cautious on my side because it looked like it might be a haven for bugs and spider. The cardboard had indeed gotten wet and warped and dried. It was oddly stiff and plumes of dust came up as we opened the top. We peered inside to discover

A BRAND NEW HAMMOCK!

Still wrapped in bubble wrap!

To quote Meaty "Booooo-yahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!"

TOTAL SCORE!!!!!!!!

We eagerly assembled the hammock using the pictures that accompanied the direction that were, of course, in Spanish (which neither of us speak). Then we spent the rest of the morning lying in it. When the children came home from school we took turns lying in it and reading together.

So this Friday morning, I'm loving my hammock. I've got a reasonably clean house, and a brand new book to read. It's going to be a perfect day.

What are you loving?

Baby Cuteness

2010-04-13T12:58:00.003-04:00

Oh, HI!

Did you know I knit?

And that this is a knitting blog?

Yup, it really is.

You wouldn't know it from looking at my side bar. From the look of it I haven't knit a thing all year. But I have, I really have. My needles are constantly clicking.

And to prove it, I've got some knitting to show you.

Nearly everyone I know is pregnant. The few who aren't? Well, I'm expecting announcements any day now. In theory, this is hard. I would like another baby. I can see where another baby would fit into our family. I've begun, as Mothers often do, to romanticise the quiet early morning feedings, and forget how tiring they are. I've covered my memories of newborn babies in a gauzy haze that camouflages the fact that I was covered in bodily fluids for weeks. All the bad, exhausting, stinky baby stuff is hidden, and nothing is seen but the sweet baby face. I could have another, or two. But The Greatest is done. And I can see his point. I'm just not sure I'm done.

But with all these pregnancies, I've got the perfect excuse to continue one of my favorite kinds of knitting: Baby Knitting.

A Dear Friend of mine recently gave birth to her fourth child, a baby girl.

I knit her a hat

(Ribbons from Itty-Bitty Hats)

and another hat

(my knock-off version of the flour sack hat from Baby Beanies: Happy Hats to Knit for Little Heads)

and some baby overalls

(Pepita, free pattern from Ravelry, modified to be newborn size)

You can't see, but the overalls have built in feet. It makes my ovaries hurt from the cuteness. And you can tell my friend is a very dear friend. Those overalls were knit on size 0 needle! Only true love knits on size 0 needles for other people's babies.

So yeah, I knit.

And while all these pregnancies should be hard on me emotionally, I'd like another baby but won't have any more. It should be sad, but they're not. I found visiting my friend and her newborn baby enlightening. It was fun to hold the baby, and then hand her back to her Mother. It is fun to sleep through the night. It is fun to hand the children over to their Grandparents for overnighters, something I can't do with small nursing children. Sweet Pea is almost done with diapers and I'm dreaming of a grown up purse again.

Maybe I'm done too.

Easter Rundown

2010-04-10T11:23:00.003-04:00

Easter has come and gone and we've all survived to tell the tale.

The Easter Bunny was feeling extra bouncy this year and hid the Easter Baskets really high.

(yes, I know the picture is unbearably dark, but it was early in the morning. whatcha gonna do?) (and we had house guests, most of that stuff up there was not for my children)

But Sweet Pea had a plan

(yes I know the picture is unbearably blurry, but it was early in the morning. whatcha gonna do?)

Rats! They stretched and stretched, but they were still not tall enough.

Meaty tried to scale the wall using only the door hinges and the sheer force of his will to have chocolate.

Yeah...that didn't work either.

Daddy to the rescue! A tall chair and a taller Daddy and the baskets were ready for consumption.

Have you ever seen such happy children?

We had ham and potato salad and crescent rolls and deviled eggs and the requisite Easter Egg hunt.

The Greatest and I got our picture taken

(yup, I wore bunny ears on Easter, they're not just for Halloween anymore!)

And we might have even posed for a family picture.

The children have eaten their candy, and the leftovers have been all consumed. Easter has come and gone with nary a trace to show that it was even here. Except perhaps for the large bowl of chocolate I found hidden in my closet, safe from hungry children.

The Easter Bunny was good to me too this year!

Guess What?

2010-03-31T06:00:00.001-04:00

I can't leave angsty post laying around too long. People start to worry. So today I'm going to post something that makes me smile.

Last week I got to accompany my Bird as her kindergarten class went to the zoo!

She was so excited to ride the bus.

And I think she might have enjoyed having me along with her.

We wandered the zoo looking at random animals, having a good time. It was zoo. No biggie. And then I saw it.

The rhino butt! Isn't it ginormous? and cute?

I think deep down inside I'm a twelve year old boy. I giggle at butts, and fart jokes.

But the fun didn't stop with just the rhino butt.

After that there was striped butt

and feathery butt

and spiky butt

and shelly butt

And just when I thought I would die from delight at all the cute animal butts, I found new levels of debauchery in the petting zoo

I love the zoo!

Easter Looming, again

2010-03-30T14:37:00.003-04:00

It just wouldn't be Easter if I didn't get all angsty. This annual reminder of grief. Easter has arrived early this year. Or maybe it was just really late the year she died.

I think I've had my "Official Breakdown"tm for the season. Crying into the shoulder of the Greatest while he helplessly stroked my hair and assured me that he misses her too. Whispered assurances that my grief is not mine alone, but his as well. The burden of sorrow is not mine to carry alone, but the crushing load is shared. And in the sharing the load is lightened.

He went to several stores searching for Sweet Tart bunnies and chicks. Cause he knows I love them. And I know he loves me.

Some days you cling to the things you know.

I know she was beautiful.

And brilliant.

I know she loved me.

And I love her.

I know I will continue to miss her everyday for the rest of my life.

Again?

2010-03-27T07:47:00.000-04:00

Dear Sweet Pea,

When last we spoke I do believe I was begging you to not be so, well, you. Was that only yesterday morning? Should I be surprised that in typical toddler fashion you did not listen?

So last night, after being warned multiple times to leave the hot sauce alone, when you saw your chance to take a big old swig, and you seized the day, did I feel bad?

Nope. Not a bit.

When you cried and pointed to your mouth, so indignant that the pretty orange sauce had caused you pain, did I feel bad then?

Nope.

But I did give you a cup of milk.

Which you did not want to drink.

Instead you slowly let the cool liquid spill onto your tongue and down your chin onto your "Princess" nightgown.

And when you realized your nightgown was soaking wet with milk and uncomfortable, did I feel sorry for your confusion on how things end up going so wrong?

Ummmm....not really.

And when you violently grabbed a washcloth and proceeded to scrub your tongue in a vigorous attempt to remove the burning sting of betrayal did I then feel pity for my tiny toddler?

Nope.

But I might have been laughing so hard at this point that I had to grab onto the kitchen counters for support. I looked across the kitchen at my beloved. The Greatest's eyes glistened with tears, not of empathy, but of mirth. So it wasn't just me.

My only regret is that I did not take pictures.

I do believe the only thing left to say is: I told you so.

Love,

Mom

2010-03-26T06:29:00.001-04:00

Dear Sweet Pea,

I love you. I really do. You are a shinning spot of delight in my life. You make me laugh all day long with your silly faces, and your most sincere babbling. Even better when you say something I can actually understand. You must wear a "Princess" dress every day. And every day you ask me "How do I look?" and before I can respond you provide me with the word you are hoping to hear "Princess?" I love to spy on you as you play in a corner with blocks, or babies, or stolen Barbies. You are so creative and imaginative and bold. Make no mistake, I adore you.

But having said that I have a very important favor to ask of you. Could you please quit being such a two year old?

Please stop changing your clothes eight times a day.

Yes, I am proud that you have figured out how to dress and undress yourself. This is a skill that you have mastered. No more need to practice this skill several times a day. You can simply get up in the morning and change from your jammies to clothes. Then at the end of the day you can put your jammies back on. See how only one clothing change simplifies things. And it reduces the vast quantities of laundry I have to wash each week. Our washing machine is older than Pork Chop, and on its last leg. Next time you go to needlessly change your clothes won't you think of the washing machine?

And since we are talking about clothes, let's spend a minute talking about one of the valid reasons you change your clothes: potty training. Now this is another skill you've mastered. You can pee and poo in the potty. No biggie. But just because you can doesn't mean you do. You're just as content to pee you pants, take them off, and move on with life, never once pausing in your play to alert me to the fact that I now have a puddle of yuck in the middle of my carpet. And forget going back to diapers. You don't like them. And since we've already established that you hold a Masters in dressing yourself it goes without saying that you posses the skills necessary to remove the offending diaper, used or unused, and that is left lying around willy-nilly as well.

Could you cut that out.

Please pee in the potty, every time, for me.

And one more thought on the topic of clothes.

You are developing a bit of a nudist streak. I never know from what moment to the next what you'll be wearing, but lately it is becoming common place to walk into a room and discover you are wearing nothing but a smile. Frankly I prefer this to the fifty million costumes changes, again, think of the washer. Plus, you've got a super cute little tush. But I would caution you, try to temper this urge until the weather gets a little warmer. Do I need to remind you of the month long bout of sickness we just endured. Do you not remember vomiting? I'd like to avoid a repeat of that, and for some reason I think running around in the chill nudie-bootie will lead directly to sickness. There may or may not be scientific fact to back me up on this, so just humor your Mom on this one.

And could you do me a favor and drink from a cup without spilling it? Just once? Pretty please, for me? If you're going to insist on drinking for a big girl cup, you need to handle the cup like a big girl. No more spilling.

And please stay out of my make-up. It isn't good for us to go meet Daddy at work when you've put orange lip gloss all around your eye in a very good imitation of a half-healed shiner that you absolutely refused to let me remove with a baby wipe. Life as a Police Officer is hard enough. Don't make Daddy walk around looking like a child beating Police Officer. Do this favor for your Daddy.

And could you just all around stay out of stuff that doesn't belong to you? I know Pork Chop, Meaty, and Bird would all throw a parade for you if you would stay out of their toys (I'm looking at the stolen Barbies you've stashed behind your shape sorter). But this is more important than just moving around some toys. Remember that half gallon of bleach you poured on my bedroom carpet?

Yeah.

*sigh*

Please stop being such a two year old.

Love,

Mom

Sometimes........

2010-03-20T20:07:00.002-04:00

Sometimes life is unbearably hard.

And sometimes life is unspeakably beautiful.

ALOHA!

2010-03-15T10:50:00.003-04:00

Well, we spent the last week taking turns throwing up.

That was fun.

I'd like to never speak of it again.

Despite the fevers, and vomiting, and lack of sleep, I got the costumes done.

Although, in the interest of full disclosure, my shirt was neither sewn by me, nor sewn by kindly elves. Instead it came to me from a Fairy Godmother. Auntie must have seen the fear in my eyes as I looked at the mock-up of what the shirt was supposed to look like. It was sewn from a vest pattern, but the neck line was modified (which I think I could have done reasonably well) and sleeves were added.

It was the added sleeves that made my blood run cold.

Sleeves, my old nemesis.

Whether it be knitting, or sewing, I just can't seem to do sleeves properly without a pattern.

How I hate you sleeves!

Seeing the deer in headlights look on my face Auntie took pity on me and kindly donated the mock-up to me, instructing me to sew buttons on the front and invest in some socks (cause I'm a little on the flat chested side *curse you boob fairy* ).

By the time Saturday rolled around the younger three members of our family were well. The same could not be said for the older three. Especially The Greatest. But we rallied. We went to the Aloha Festival.

And we DANCED!

(Except for The Greatest. He doesn't dance)

My three dancers before the show

Poor Bird is nothing but skin and bones. She doesn't have a scrap of body fat. And she was so cold in her hula outfit with the bare shoulders. Our stage was right by the water and the breeze off the water had a definite chill to it. At one point I saw the teenage dancers crowded around something. I looked, and it was Bird. They had huddled around her tiny form like a flock of penguins, trying to keep her warm.

The Ipu dance.

The Boys

The Greatest took the pictures, and he only got one picture of the boys dance. And of course Meaty is turned the wrong way. He did this all through rehearsals as well. He is my child in all the wrong ways, poor thing. I was backstage, but I managed to catch the end of his performance, and he was turning the right way then. I'm very proud of him. And just a teensy bit surprised he like it so much, but he did. He really liked dancing.

Sophisticated Hula

Love those cellophane skirts in the breeze! Again, The Greatest took these pictures, and he didn't manage to really get Bird in the picture. She's tiny, so you'd think she would be in the first row. But the second row was the place for her. She needed the row of dancers in front of her to help her remember what she was doing. Another one of my children in all the wrong ways. She did great. Now Pork Chop is my shining star dancer! Front row, big smile knew all the moves, loved every second on stage. A born performer.

And Me!

I am Wife, Mom, Daughter, Friend, Chef, Chauffeur, Nurse, Life Guard, Tutor, Housekeeper, Personal Shopper, Keeper of the Keys, Knitter, Quilter, Costume Creator, Blogger. I wear many hats. And now I can add: HULA DANCER!

I wouldn't necessarily qualify hula dancer with the word good. See me in the second row? Yeah, the second row was the place for me too! Hula dancers are generally thought to be graceful. Anyone who knows me, really knows me, is going to fall off their chair giggling at the idea of me and graceful being said in the same sentence. But I went, I danced, I had a great time. We can't wait to do it all again next year.

Of course no post would be complete without a picture of my tiniest Island Princess.

She was too tiny to dance this year, but perhaps next year?

When it was all over we hurried home and tucked The Greatest back in bed. We had ice cream sundaes for dinner, and snuggled up on the couch to watch "Where the Wild Things Are."

It was a perfect day.

Except for the vomit.

Fingers Crossed

2010-03-04T10:30:00.004-05:00

Often I find that the amount of time I spend procrastinating on a project is directly related to my confidence in actually doing a good job on said project. That is to say, if I'm not feeling too good about it, the project is going to languish, untouched, and unloved. Examples of this would include Evil, and My Father's Aran Sweater. (Sorry Dad)

So the remaining hula costumes?

Yeah, not really much closer to being finished.

Yesterday, instead of working on them, I found all kinds of other "Very Important" things to do. I went to twenty different stores in the area trying to find woven basket type bags. I didn't find any. I went to Jo-ann's but forgot my 40% off coupon, so I left. I took the kids to the library for new books, and then spend a good chunk of time reading to them. And most importantly I spend the evening curled up on the couch watching old episodes of "Cops" with The Greatest. You know I'm pulling out all my most desperate avoidance tactics when I'm watching "Cops."

Although while I've not been sewing on these projects, I've have been "working" on the projects. I've been thinking of alternative ways to get them done, ways that do not involve me sewing MY costume. My most viable solution involves waiting until the night before the performance. On the eve of the big day, with an exhausted heart full of desperation, I will lay out the fabric, the thread, the buttons, the scissors, the measuring tape, the patterns... basically every sewing supply in the house will be laid on my kitchen table before I go to sleep. Then during the night kindly elves will rescue me from my plight and I will awaken to perfectly sewn costumes, ready in the nick of time for our Hula Debut.

Do you think it will work?

Cause short of sewing the things myself this is the best plan I've got.

Saved Again By The Power Of Her Cute!

2010-03-02T20:40:00.005-05:00

I've been sewing tons lately. I think I might be developing a hunch back from being bent over my sewing machine day after day after day. Three little white hula shirts down! A bunch more stuff to go!

As I sit and sew Sweet Pea sits at my side. She babbles at me. Often using words I can understand! She likes to touch the thing on the side of the machine that goes round and round as I sew. I'm sure that round thingy has a proper name. I'm sure I'll never know what it is.

She also likes to sit and play with my pins.

It seems like a harmless activity. Its all well and good until one rolls off the table and onto the floor where it will lie in wait for The Greatest to step on it and blame me for carelessly leaving my pins lying around.

*grrrrrr*

But worse than planting pins on the floor to frame me for feetal injuries? (is feetal a word? get it feet-al? I'm so funny. I crack myself up. and I clearly need more sleep)

When I'm sewing the final outer border strip on my Valentine Quilt...

She likes to keep herself busy by taking the seam ripper and poking a hole in the inner border.

AWESOME!

I haven't decided if I want to take off three outer border strips so I can get to the inner border. Once there I will remove the inner border and replace it with a new hole-less piece of fabric. Then I will re-sew the three outer borders back onto the quilt. Or I might just skip taking all the borders off and sew a patch over the hole. The Greatest thinks I should put some fray check on it and call it good. *insert eye roll here* He tries hard. But sometimes he doesn't get it.

Some days her cuteness is all that stands between her and certain death.

Somedays You Just Can't Win

2010-03-02T06:01:00.001-05:00

I'll admit it. My to-do list is a scary long. We have been sick with coughing nastiness for weeks now and the house is in sad sad shape. We've been too sick to go shopping, so the pantry is in sad sad shape. And as I mentioned yesterday I've got several crafty deadlines looming, not to mention a bunch of stuff I want to do simply because I want to do it. I need more hours in the day. Maybe I should give up sleep again.

When my to-do list gets too big, and my house gets too lived in (a polite way of saying my floors are sticky and I'd rather pee outside than set foot in one of my bathrooms) I can get overwhelmed. I don't even know where to start and I can get paralyzed. Being unable to find a starting point I end up getting nothing done at all.

I'm there.

Paralysis of the mind.

I finally decided the best thing to do was just do something. Anything.

With as tense as I was feeling I decided knitting was NOT the thing to do. No sense in knitting, knowing that what I knit will be too tight and need ripped out.

I also decided cleaning was not the thing to do. I live in a house with small children. I could clean, but it was just going to get sticky again five seconds later. Still coughing I simply didn't have the energy to fight a losing battle.

So sewing it was.

First I cut the fabric for the Girl's Hula Shirts.

Now technically only two of my girls are dancing, but the third needs a costume, well, just cause she does.

And that is as far as I got. Though I searched high and low, the elastic for the shirts was no where to be found.

So I moved on to the next item on my list: Meaty's Hula Shirt. I traced the pattern onto tissue paper and cut out his pieces.

And that's as far as I got. Though I searched high and low, my brown thread was no where to be found.

So I gave up on Hula costumes. The next one to be made was mine, and sewing for myself is daunting enough without circumstances like these.

So I moved on to my Valentine's Quilt.

Yes, I know Valentine's Day has come and gone. I am unconcerned about this. Valentine's Day will be back next year, and quilts don't spoil. I might have gotten it done for Valentine's this year, but I ran out of fabric to sew the border and only just got new fabric last weekend. Since this wasn't deadline sewing, just hobby sewing, I thought maybe it would be relaxing and lift this cloud of doom I seemed to be operating under. I cut the fabric for the first border, stitched one side, started to stitch the second side...

And this is as far as I got. I ran out of thread. And though I searched high and low, my white thread was no where to be found. Seriously? I ran out of white thread? I know I have more white thread somewhere. *grrr* It is probably with the elastic and the brown thread. Laughing at me.

Somedays a girl just can't win.

That's when I gave up and went to bed. Bed seemed like a solid plan.

Maybe I should have cleaned instead of crafted.

A Girl's Gotta Dream

2010-03-01T06:33:00.000-05:00

Once upon a time I tore this picture out of a Pottery Barn Kids catalog.

Back when I was pregnant with Pork Chop and working as a lowly receptionist, one of the few joys of my job was the Pottery Barn Kids Catalog (the other true joy was the Frango mints at Christmas). The Secretaries and I would eagerly sort the mail awaiting the glossy pages of sublime kid stuff to arrive. Now, did you see the part where I was a lowly receptionist? Yeah. I couldn't actually afford anything in the Pottery Barn Kids catalog. But we enjoyed looking at the pretty pages of things and pretending we could afford to decorate our homes. It was a constant source of inspiration for things I wanted to do to my kids rooms. One day I was innocently flipping through its pages and there it was. Something so cute I simply had to have it. It was this quilt, this pretty little quilt. I simply fell in love with this quilt. I loved the gingham, the solids, the neat points of the stars, the bright white background, the diamond border. All of it. I loved it. And since I had taken a beginning quilting class the previous year I decided that forget buying it I could totally make that quilt.

Then I actually had my baby.

Reality is a harsh cruel place to live. I quickly learned babies take up a lot of time. In fact small colicky Pork Chop took up every waking moment, and lots of moments when I should have been sleeping as well. She was rocked and walked and sung to and carried and taken for rides in the car, and still, she cried and cried and cried and cried and cried. I didn't have time to eat, or shower, let alone be crafty. I gave up quilting, too many pieces and part and dropped pins on the floor, and it required a lot of brain cells that I just didn't have at the time. When she was around nine months old I took up knitting. She was sleeping more and finally crying less, so I felt I had a few brain cells I could devote to crafty endeavours. And I figures two knitting needles would be way easier to keep track of than the fifty thousand pins I needed for quilting. That last part is shamefully not true, two knitting needles are not as easy to hold on to as one might think, but doesn't it sound like it ought to be true?

Yet I still dreamed of those perfect points.

I've carried that torn picture around for a decade. Through all our moves I kept this picture. Through the periodic housecleaning purges where I threw out everything that wasn't essential this ragged page was considered important enough to keep. It has always remained on my list of someday.......

Over the weekend we moved Sweet Pea into a big girl bed. The true owners of our crib are expecting their third child, so they will be needing the crib back. Now seemed like as good a time as any to give Sweet Pea her eviction notice from the crib. She is very enthusiastic about her bed during the day, but not so much at bedtime. She cries no until she is exhausted, then I lie down with her while she sleepily repeats "no big girl bed, no big girl bed" until she falls asleep mid-sentence. And forget naps, there's no taking them in the big girl bed. But still, the ordeal is not without a few perks. She shares a bedroom with Bird, and it looks so sweet with their pretty white bed frames.

I've decided that someday has finally arrived and I am just crazy enough to be planning on making two matching quilts.

Pretty gingham star quilts on a pretty white background. Each with a different color gingham binding. Of course I have several other things I need to be doing right this very second, deadlines looming for projects that need done now. A big project for Knitpicks is in the final stages and if I don't get too sidetracked I should finish ahead of schedule. And the seven costumes for hula need to be finished by Saturday. And since they currently look like this

I really need to get sewing.

Still, I could not resist putting one block together

you know, since I already had the sewing machine and ironing board out for the hula costumes anyways.

One block closer to the dream. 159 to go.

Knitting News

2010-02-25T11:07:00.002-05:00

So when last we spoke of knitting I had some concerns about my grey sweater.

Let's face it. It was looking a little, well, torqued? Is that a word? It was skewing to the side. Not really taking the back of a sweater shaped I'd hope the back of the sweater would take.

But I pressed on. I hoped that with a little seaming, a little steam, we could make this look like something. The seed stitch fabric was just soooo smooshy and wonderful. I still had high hopes. I knit the right front and was knitting my way up the left front...

Then I got cold.

I was quietly sitting. Quietly knitting on the couch. And I was cold.

I got up to reach for my current favorite I'm-cold-so-I'm-gonna-throw-this-on-on-top-of-whatever-I'm-wearing-because-it-goes-with-everything sweater(tm).

As I slipped my arms into the sleeves and pulled the sweater close around me I had an epiphany.

Now the sad but true reality is I never have good epiphanies. Never strokes of pure genius. Never an idea so revolutionary it improves my life and the lives of others and earns me a million dollars in the process. No. I'm just not that smart. My epiphanies tend to restrain themselves, preferring to live in the land where they manifest as mere realizations of horrible horrible truths about my life.

This one was no different.

The sweater I was knitting was a carbon copy in shape and color to the sweater I was wearing.

Sure, sure, there are a few differences, mostly the seed stitch, but the silhouette, and color, and collar, and sleeve length. Identical.

And my back-up I'm-cold-so-I'm-gonna-throw-this-on-on-top-of-whatever-I'm-wearing-because-it-goes-with-everything sweater(tm)?

Also a grey sweatshirt. Only this one has a hood.

I had to ask myself a few hard questions.

"Self" I queried "do you really want a third grey cardigan?"

"Do you really want to only be seen picking up the kids from school in different shades of grey day after day after day?"

"Is this really the only idea of fashion you know?"

"Self, do you really want to be that girl?"

I decided I did not.

(Can you spot the ball I wound all by myself vs the balls Bird "helped" me wind?)

I've been looking at pullover patterns instead.

Hi

2010-02-24T11:07:00.002-05:00

So, ummmm, yeah.

It's been a while.

But you're like my closest bestest friends. No matter how long it has been since the last time we talked, it feels like no time has passed.

Can you believe how much time has passed? I've been getting phone calls from everyone wanting to make sure I'm alright. Thanks for all the love. I'm sorry for the silence. Let me assure you, everyone is fine. Not all of this silence was my fault.

First my computer got all virused up.

Bad.

Wouldn't-boot-up-at-all kind of bad.

Got past my anti-virus software kind of bad.

Why do smart people waste their time creating such destructive things? They don't know me. Why would they want to damage my computer? I don't understand that mentality or their motives. They're obviously brilliant with computers in a way I'll never be, so why don't they apply themselves and create something instead of destroying things?

And I had over a years worth of pictures saved on the computer just waiting to be transferred to disks.

I know.

I'm bad like that.

But we know a girl who is married to a guy who is is all kinds of genius.

He saved everything.

I offered to pay him with my first born child. Now that she's getting older she's pretty darn handy to have around. She can dust and run a vacuum, and load the dishwasher mostly the right way. Plus she is super fun just to sit and talk to. It would have been a major sacrifice on my part, but it would have been worth it. That's just how much I loves my computer.

Instead he took payment in brownies.

All that put me without a computer for a few weeks.

Then we decided it was time to fiddle with my migraine meds. I needed a new preventative and a better med to take when I got a migraine.

Well, the good news it my preventative is so good I haven't had to try my new pain meds.

The bad news it is made me near comatose for a few weeks. I'm still tired. If you recall the last med they put me on made me feel like I was on speed. This was the polar opposite. I could not keep my eyes open. My eyelids gained twenty pounds each. Crawling back into bed still seems like the most appealing option life has to offer. But I'm migraine free and mostly headache free. So there is that.

And just as I was crawling out of my medicine induced coma and back into real life, the kids brought home a bug. Pink eye, runny noses, coughs, sore throats. Yeah. Fun. I'm the only one still sick and I feel in constant danger of choking on my own mucus. I know. The average person can only dream of living a life as glamorous as mine.

In the midst of all this I've been cooking and cleaning and knitting and quilting and hula-ing and decorating and becoming an aunt again. I've been busy. Although in the interest of full disclosure I really didn't have anything to do with becoming an Aunt again. That was all my Brother and his Wife. They did a beautiful job too.

But I know none of you who are still hanging around this blog are here for me.

So enough about me. Here's the good stuff.

Oh, wait, you're not here for the bunnies? But they're cute and fluffy and they love to sit in front of their mirror and bathe, those vain little bunnies. You sure you're not here for the bunnies?

Alright, here's the really good stuff.

Don't you just wanna chew on those toes?

Turning my day around.

2010-01-13T10:47:00.004-05:00

I've been feeling rather melancholy these past few days. Maybe it's the typical post-holiday January blahs. Maybe it's the missing/presumed deceased cat. Maybe it's the letter I got from a lawyer talking about my "late mother", reducing her life to a list of assets. Maybe it's the weather.

This morning is unusually grey.

Maybe it's my knitting

It is also unusually grey. And unusually wonky. See how it is pulling into a parallelogram on one side. Or it could be a trapeziod. That one side is considerably longer than the other. What the heck Knitting? What the heck? It is the softest of soft acrylic (seriously, this acrylic is ridiculously soft and luscious). And because it is the softest of soft acrylic, I doubt this will block out. It is a pile of soft grey parallelogram shaped frustration.

I wonder if this is some kind of karmic punishment for adding to the list of unfinished things instead of finishing a project off the list of unfinished things. After all, I'm practically finished with Meaty's winter hat.

Now that winter in the desert is almost over of course. All that is left is the sewing needle work. Weaving in seams, sewing in the lining, duplicate stitching the pattern on the front. I could finish this hat in about three hours if I tried. One evening of work and I could be done. And I might even be able to convince him to wear it to school in the mornings where there is still a hint of chill in the air. Yes, one evening and it could be done. I could be done. I'd have something real to show for my work. Something tangible that I created. Isn't that part of why I knit?

*sigh*I just can't get excited about finishing the knitting.

See.

Melancholy.

Despite my feelings of apathy twards it all, I had almost resolved to finally finish something.

Then I went to Bezzie's blog.

First of all if you aren't reading her, start right now.

Secondly, I've got to go find some cream colored yarn in my stash. ELF just might be the greatest Christmas movie ever made! I NEED a Jovie hat.

My day just might be looking up!

Birthday Wishes

2010-01-12T10:21:00.002-05:00

On Sunday we had dinner with friends. Someone asked Meaty how old he was. He replied "I'm six, but tomorrow I'll be seven."

And that is exactly how it happened.

Sunday night I went to sleep the mother of a six year old boy. Monday morning I woke up to discover I was the mother of a seven year old boy. Funny how that happens.

Age hasn't changed him much. He's still the same sweet/stubborn boy he's always been.

So determined to grow up as fast as he can.

He's got all kinds of plans. He's going to take the army netting in his room with him when he goes to college. And the dog.

(Who sleeps tucked under a blanket because he tucked her in.)

And when he's a grown up he will drink diet coke and call me by my first name. And he will buy the house next door because he doesn't want to live with me forever, but he always wants to live close to me.

Despite my best efforts to keep him small forever he does insist on growing. And I'm sure all those things he dreams of are going to happen for him one day (except the calling me by my first name thing. I just can't get on board for that one. He will have to learn some disappointment in his life). I want his life to be full of good things, but I also want him to have the skills to deal with disappointment and adversity and challenges and sorrow. Because I know life is full of that stuff too. I want so many things for my sweet little man.

Happy Birthday Meaty.

The downside of being multicraftual

2010-01-09T09:00:00.001-05:00

Yesterday we took down our Christmas things. The house looks barren without the lights and garland and all the sparkly fun stuff.

I think I need more home decor. I dream of lamps and vases and beautiful conversation pieces, and throw pillows, and pictures on the walls. But then I might have to dust more. Or constantly pick the throw pillows off the floor. Or worry about the children breaking things (which is after all what children do best). I think it might be best to keep it barren for now. There is always someday for the other stuff.

To get to where we keep our Christmas things I must move all my crafting things. I was sure that after I moved it to get out all the Christmas stuff I had it all put away beautifully and it was group together according to craft and project supplies were all neatly bagged together. I was sure it was the epitome of organised.

Yeah...not so much.

I'm beginning to see why The Greatest refers to it as my "crap" closet.

I've never been one for project monogamy. I like to knit what I wanna knit, when I wanna knit it. I like to spend an evening or two beading if something sparks my imagination that way, or making hair bows, or sewing, or my renewed obsession: quilting. I'm a bit like Pretty Woman that way. I say who, I say when, I say how much. If only I had the fabulous hair to go with the attitude. I find this attitude helps keep my hobbies relaxing.

I can do the monogamy thing. And I'm really good at it. I've got only the one God. I've only got one major credit card. I buy the same cookie every week for my mid-morning snack. I only get naked with the one guy. I'm good at monogamy.

I just choose not to be with my crafting.

But I've been staring at my mess and I'm beginning to see the wisdom behind the virtue.

I counted 30 projects in various crafting categories all in random stages of completion. That isn't when I hit the bottom of the pile of unfinished things. That's just when I decided to stop counting. The list was making me feel panicked and overwhelmed.

I know I've tried to get on top of things in the past. Remember when I tried Mission Possible. Yeah. That didn't work for me. I didn't finish my 12 projects. I finished 5, sort of. And I didn't abandon the others either. Instead I gave them all amnesty. The unfinished ones are still patiently waiting in my pile.

That's what I like about my projects. They sit and quietly wait.

The Greatest is not so quiet. I need to knit his sweater so he'll shut up.

And judging by the near panic attack I get looking at my stack of stuff, I need to get this under control before it stages an uprising and takes over. After all, if my projects were to stage an uprising they'd be well armed with all the various needles, and hooks, and pins, and scissors I own. Not to mention my two glue guns. I'm sure if they were to mobilize they would quickly over take us all. Except maybe the bunnies. I might be saved by the bunnies. They've got a lot of attitude. They just might be our salvation. But as usual, I digress thinking of the crafty rebellion and the bunny counter-strike operation.

So maybe I need to look into this idea of project monogamy. I daydream of just picking a project, any project from my closet, and working it to completion. Then I would reach in the closet and grab-bag my next unfinished object and continuing on until everything in my closet is beautiful and finished and blogged and admired and oh how productive I would be.

I think I'll look into this project monogamy.

Right after I cast-on for my new sweater.

It isn't a secret

2010-01-08T18:54:00.002-05:00

This is the only reason I have four kids.

Silly Socks

2010-01-06T11:03:00.002-05:00

It doesn't get too cold here. But it does get cold. In fact the longer we live here, the colder it seems to get in the winter. Not to mention the entire first floor of our house is a concrete slab covered by ceramic tiles. Those puppies stay cold. That's what makes them so great in the summer when the outside temperature is 115 degrees and climbing. They keep their chill in the air conditioned atmosphere, bringing down our cooling costs. Yeah. They're great in the summer. But not so much the winter.

In the winter the tiles never really warm up. We huddle under blankets despite having the heat on because that edge of chill never leaves the air. Thank goodness the winter only lasts a few short months (it was already over 70 the other day).

In a fit of knitting insanity I decided that Sweet Pea needed socks to cover her feet and protect her tiny bones from the chill. Never mind the sheer lunacy of putting a toddler (who lives in a house with slippery tiles as the main flooring) in socks. Never mind the fact that every single one of my children have inherited my ability to trip over my own shadow. (Thank goodness The Greatest finds it endearing). Never mind the fact that my child is actually a nudist, consenting to wear only the bare minimum of clothing. She would rather die than put on a sweater or socks.

I've got an amazing ability to ignore the obvious and go with the impractical.

So knit socks I did.

Pattern: Socks for Mary Janes pattern offered as a free Ravelry Download

Yarn: Socks that Rock, and a discontinued Knitpicks line

Needles: Size 2 circs for magic loop

Modifications: Only the obvious one

Review: Alright, lets get this out of the way first: HOW CUTE ARE HER CHUBBY LITTLE KNEES? *whew* It's good to get that out of my system. I just wanna squeeze those chubby knees. TICKLE THEM AND SQUEEZE THEM. *sigh* Sorry, NOW, I think it's all out of my system. We can move on to the socks.

Just a simple sock pattern with some pretty lace detail. I was using a left over ball of pink sock yarn I found in my stash. I decided her feet were still on the smallish size (at age 2 the kid wears a size 7 shoe, smallish is a relative term). They should only need a smallish amount of yarn to make some socks right?

Not so much.

As I approached the toe of the second sock I realized this was going to end badly. I had a few options

1) order more yarn.

Ummm...no. I wasn't going to order a $20 skein of yarn to knit an inch of sock for a child who will out grow said sock in roughly 4 days.

2) Bind it off and call them pedicure socks.

I considered this. The child in question is after all the girliest of girly girls who insists on having her toes painted on a daily basis. But then I would have to rip the toe out of the already completed first sock so they would match, and that seemed like a lot of work.

3) Knit the toe with something else.

This seemed like a solid plan. Just finish knitting the sock with something else, anything else. I grabbed another smallish ball of yarn and knit a contrasting toe.

And fell in love!

How cute are these socks!

But my girl can't wear just one pair of socks all winter long! She changes her clothes a minimum of three times a day. What makes me think she would be content wearing the same socks for longer than ten minutes? So another pair of socks it is.

Pattern: No pattern, just basic ankle socks based on her foot measurements

Yarn: No idea, it was left over from these

Needles: Size 2

Modifications: None, it's my personal sock recipe

Review: Oh my goodness! Those knees are so chubby I wanna chew on them! NOM NOM NOM NOM NOMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

I apologise. I swear. I'm really done now.

So I guess that after I make a pair of socks I have enough yarn left over for 1.75 toddles socks. That's alright. I'm kinda loving the silly toe. I'm contemplating purposefully knitting a mismatched toe in all my future socks. Some of my friends, who have beheld the cuteness that is the silly toe, have suggested I start a Silly Toes Ravelry group and start a sock revolution! Knitters everywhere will create pairs of socks with one mismatched toe. Matching socks will be so passe. Yarn manufacturers will start including a small skein of contrasting yarn with each skein of sock yarn. Sock knitting will never be the same again!

I'm not sure if I'm ready to lead a revolution, but I am knitting a pair of toddler monkeys.

I wonder what color I'll knit the toe...

Neglecting My Kids

If Only

Can we postpone Christmas?

I'm Cold

Twi-Hard?

CUTE!

Grandparents Rejoice!

Public Service Announcement

Moving Right Along

Progress

Unexpected Conversations

*Sigh*

Big Things Happening Here

Friday Lovin'

Well, Look At That

Sweater-ish

Cowabunga!

Friday Luh-va

Gah! Tiny Men!

Just not my day

Shamed Into Productivity

More Knitting?

Friday Loving

Imagine That

Pork Chop

Blarg

Friday Lovin'

Exciting Things

More Love Letters To My Blog

A Letter

Random

Crumb

A Boy

That Time of Year

Stocking Up

Just because I own a camera...

Stationary

A Beginning

Bragging

Ooooooh Knitting

Again?

Don't break the spell

More on the Boy

Boys

Big Girl

Exhausted

Intervention Time...Again

Better

My Trend-Setter

The Insanity Begins

Bird

No Tears Here

Fancy

What Is This?

Coming Together

I Can't Decide

Can't See The Forest

Just Like Clockwork

Home Repair Gone Horribly Wrong

The Eye of the Storm

The Birthday Boy

Seriously

Evil 2.0: Take 2

Clue

His Happy Place

Quiet

Today's Unrelated Picture

A Tale to Tell

I'll give you a hint

Dinner

Goodbye and Good Riddance 2010

So Sick

I feel the same way Baby

I try, oh how I try.

My heart belongs to The Greatest. But my neck is a vampire whore.

Time for an Intervention....Again.

Confessions of a Frugal Housewife

Friday Loving

Don't Blink

Cause I need another hobby

Sigh