And How Have You Been?

Me, I've been just enjoying. Three days last week, two days this week, of no M. I miss her sure, but I also have enjoyed working late, swearing whenever I want, and sleeping in. The lack of whining has been... pleasant.

However, when she has been here, I realized how much she makes me smile. How much joy she brings to each day. How absolutely silly she is.

She has the same birthday as David Letterman (things you learn when you labor late at night), and from the very beginning she has been a ham. She could turn her little cries off an on, always knowing just how to work her parents. Thankfully, while she can still work us (and her grandparents, oh her poor grandparents), she is learning she gets more when she works us for laughs.

I have been successful in my career, in building and maintaining relationships, because I know when to make people laugh. There is a time and a place for serious, but more often than not, sometimes you just have to make people laugh, so they can get to a place where they can find solutions and resolutions. In my personal life, I find it far harder to have a sense of humor. She is teaching me to let go.

She will be home tomorrow night, in time for bedtime and snuggle and tucking in. My mom will be back through briefly on her way home to Colorado, and then she will be all ours again. I am sure we will celebrate by picking (and devouring) cucumbers, and perhaps this weekend (if this heat keeps up) our first cherry tomatoes.

My Heart is Home

My baby is home! I will admit it, I really really enjoyed having a break. With work being so nuts, I enjoyed being able to just zone out when I got home. I didn't have to switch from bad day at work to dealing with a defiant three year old.

However, I am so happy to have her home. She barely wanted to hug and kiss A and I, but when it was time for bed, she saved hugging me for last, then asked for lullabies. Something she hardly ever does.

So I sang and snuggled and let her know silently that it was OK, even if she said she didn't miss me, I knew she did. I missed her too.

It starts now doesn't it, the growing up and away from us? She doesn't need for everything any more. She tests her boundaries and goes her own way more than she listens to me. She is exceptionally independent. My mother says more so than I ever was. (I was a late bloomer stubbornness wise, that happened as an adult)

I haven't written about it because I was afraid of being judged, but we've been having some behavior issues at school. I think she is getting bored. She's wanting to start learning how to sound out words, and do more with numbers, and as one of the oldest in class, she is struggling with the boredom. At least that is what I hope it is. She can be such a good kid, but she has never been one to do what was expected. 18 months of nursing using a nipple shield because she wouldn't have it any other way. Not even crawling until after she was a year old, then taking off. Walking just in time to be able to take the spot in a better daycare.

I am so screwed once we hit the teen years.

Going Home

We had a great time this weekend. Well, M and I had a great time. A tolerated being at a "family" wedding where the only people he knew enough to be comfortable around were the people actively involved in the wedding (bride, groom, parents, siblings of all). I got to see all of the people I really like from my home town that still live there. I got to show off my beautiful daughter in her twirling "wedding dress" (thanks to Stefania for sending that at just the right time). She charmed just about everyone.

She especially took to the bride (I think it may have been the stunning dress and the fact that we talked about her wedding for days), and the mother of the bride. The mother of the bride is my second mom. The cool mom (sorry mom). She's the one I could talk to about stuff I couldn't talk to my own mom about. The funny part is, when I was about M's age, I really took to her too. I was the little kid following her around. Apples, trees, you know the rest.

We're back home, but M stayed up North to hang out with Grandma Tere (seen above). She is having a great time being entertained by all kinds of new people. Running around the property where I grew up. Getting in to trouble the bride's cousin's son. (who's dad was the resident troublemaker when I was a kid) Charming everyone she meets.

She has requested to not go home. Instead she would like Grandma to drive her right down to Nana & Grandpa D's. We're sort of hoping by Wednesday she'll miss us enough to come back here.

On the off chance that you ever find yourself in Fergus Falls, I would like to point out to you a couple of things. First, Falls Baking Co. Home of the best bread on the planet. No, not kidding. I've had a lot of bread, and Scott's can't be beat. Second, Stumbeano Coffee. I am a coffee nerd, and I'm here to tell you I had the best latte of my life on Sunday morning, at Cafe 116. Made by Greg Stumbo himself. I would like to bundle both of them up and move them closer to the rest of my life. In the mean time I'll settle for putting and order in with my mom for when she brings M back.

Whole Wheat Sour Dough, Oatmeal & a French Boule. I'd also like a pound of Greg's Espresso Roast. I need it ground, I can't do anything fine enough for my stove top Bialetti at home.

Sunday Random Thoughts

I seem to have a bit of bloggers block, so prepare for a brain dump.

This morning I got up early before going to see the in-laws to go for a run. I figured that starting the day with some endorphins wouldn't hurt. I ran for 35 minutes, and extended my distance, including a quick warm-up & cool down to 2.5 miles. Still not going much faster, but trying to add in some sprints to push myself a little.

In-laws visit, total success. We brought down real tomatoes (local), Vaidahlia onions, and some ground beef from the farm that we get out meat share from. They loved the burgers, and M's only complaint was we were taking her home instead of leaving her there.

The boy we have always not really trusted in M's class, you know the one with the constantly running nose who's parents never show up to the parties, seems to really like her or something. When prepping for my last field trip hell, he came over and wanted to hold her hand. She rebuffed him quite soundly, and he went to the quiet corner to to sulk and perhaps shed a tear or two. She seems to have good taste, but poor guy. Perhaps if he gave up making "shooters" at people and invested in tissues he would stand a chance.

The whole family seems to have gotten a bit of a cold. Watery eyes, sniffles, popping ears, choking on the snot draining down the back of your throat (sorry, TMI but when you realize what is doing it, way better than the kid almost throwing up) and general crankiness. I thought for sure the run this AM would hold it off. Nope. First time that hasn't done it, so I must really be in for it. Anyone want to bet on if I manage to get in a run tomorrow?

At less than two months, I'm starting to get really excited about NYC and BlogHer. Like totally really excited. Would anyone be up to reading about me getting neurotic about it? May possibly include a few NYC tips for those interested. I don't know why I'm bothering to ask, I'm going to do it anyway.

Before BlogHer I need to get my act together and transfer things to the domain. This will require investing a little money in a template. It needs to be done. So, I will be getting a new template for Wordpress instead of some new shoes for BlogHer. Oh well. Shoes are under rated. I want to have a review section so I can divide out some gear reviews (all stuff I've bought, but still, want to segregate) I've been wanting to write. They include my favorite running gear for the fat (or not so fat) girls. (all stuff I've actually paid my own money for, people only send me running gear to review in my dreams)

My throat is calling for ice water and some serious vegging on the couch. Perhaps an early bedtime too. If tomorrow is a mother/daughter sick day, wish me well. We have four new movies including *shudder* the first Disney Princess movie I've ever owned.... (but not the first I've rented and watched repeatedly on demand) I caved, yes I did.

Those Flowers Are Rosa!

On Sunday I took M out to a little garden/monument on the parkway by our house. The main purpose was to get some updated pictures for a little Mother's Day project for the Grandma and Nana. M got to stretch her imagination and legs. I got the pictures I wanted for the project, as well as a lot of blog friendly pictures as well.

Missy (I swear I'm not picking on you) blogged yesterday about her presentation to the MN Baby Expo. Specifically about blog privacy. Before she did the presentation she asked if she could use one of my photos of M and talk about my psudonym. I completely agreed to it because while I don't use my real name on my blog, I don't hide the fact that I was not blessed with such a cool name. I also use my real name when I meet people in person, though I will answer to Amelia now.

Her comments about it made me think about the photos that I take. I think that getting blog friendly photos has made me a better photographer. By the time that I had this blog, she was running around enough and it was nice to know that even if I didn't get her face, I still had a use for the pictures. It can be very freeing to not have to care about her face when you have a kid that could care less about having her picture taken. It allows me to capture some moments I wouldn't normally get.

She can be out of focus, but you still get the feeling. When I combine these pictures with the ones where I get some or all of her face, it can show a more complete story.


Like how the scraggly trees were her houses and forts. How she rode horses, and discovered that she is a tree climber.

Changes

In my life, I have had pixie cuts, I have had long hair, I have had any variety of in between. I've even had a Mohawk. I have used my hair as a way to mark changes in my life. I have used my hair as a way to mourn losses. I have used my hair to piss people off. It has been pink, orange (I was trying for blond) and it is now pepper, with a liberal amount of salt mixed in.

I hacked off a good portion of it earlier this year. I had been growing it out, but it was getting scraggly, ugly and tangled easily. It was nice. I told my lovely stylist she only needed to leave it just long enough for a ponytail. It was right above shoulder length.

I wasn't nearly so concerned about ponytails today. It is about as short as it can go shy of a pixie cut. It is awesome. It is off my neck. It is something I can have fun with. It is wildly curly at this length.

I may, just maybe, consider coloring it. Not to cover the gray so much as turn them a fun color. Like blue.

In the mean time, here it is. To run tonight I had to do itty bitty pigtails and a headband. Small price to pay for a little change to go with the big change happening with me.

Somersault

If I were a SAHM, or a WAHM, I am sure by now, at age three (crap, three!) M would have had her fill of classes and playgroups. It would likely be one of the only things keeping me from completely going bonkers. There would be ECFE (or as Julia likes to call it, Communist Playgroup), there would be music, there would be something physical to keep her from tearing up our very small house.

Instead, of course, I prefer to leave my child in the care of (very very capable) others. These others do pretty darn cool things. They teach her to put away her toys, to try to correct my Spanish for yellow (I swear to god kid, I know I'm right, I may have flunked it three times, but I know amarillo), and once a week a hippie with a guitar comes in for music class. She then sings songs that I only vaguely remember from the kid's tent at the Winnipeg Folk Festival when I was a kid. She also spends a state mandated minimum of 30 minutes outside climbing on a climber. It is good for her.

When she was younger I tried to be the overachieving parent who sends their kid to daycare, still does mommy and me classes, and works hours and hours of overtime. I nearly lost my mind. For one thing, there are very few classes for the under 5 set that accommodate a working parents schedule. I don't get this. For one thing, even if mom (or dad) stays home, wouldn't the other working parent want to do stuff on the weekends to bond with their kids? Not to mention, I don't need to do laundry, I have plenty of time to for tiny gym music geniuses right? I kid, but it is rough out there. None of the YMCA's near my house offered much in the way of options for me. The only things that were available, were seriously over priced. The city of Minneapolis does great swim lessons, and we live less than a mile from a city pool, but they offered no swimming lessons on weekends.

I sort of put it out of my mind. Otherwise it was going to drive me crazy. However, now that she is three, we have a number of other options available to us. Now there are dance classes available (including some downtown at Zenon dance company, yay!), as well as a wide variety of park & rec programs. Which is good for us, because the girl needs some lessons on coordination.

I am not graceful. I can climb a tree (I think I still can) and I can ride a bike, and use power tools, but I am not graceful. Not even some ballet as a kid helped that. I can can still walk in to a doorway despite watching where I am going. It is a rare gift, I know. It is a rare gift that I seem to have passed down to my daughter.

After reviewing all of the options, as well as my budget, I signed M up for a toddler tumbling class through the Minneapolis Park Board (love those guys). It started three weeks ago, and we missed two classes already, but we went on Monday. I also signed her up for the follow up class this summer. It is weekedays, around dinner time, but I can pack a snack, and A had dinner on the table when we got home. She loves it. She loves it so much that she asked me on Monday on the way home if she could go back on Tuesday after "workandschool". She loves it so much that I am pretty sure she will be heartbroken when it takes a break for a month inbetween sessions in May/June.

I'm not sure it will actually help her coordination, but her big feet are coming in handy for the balance beam. I knew we had them for a reason. ;)

Party Perfect

As much as I would like it to be different, I am not one of those people who easily writes about things and services. I get offers to review stuff and I turn them down, not because of any superiority or anything, but because I suck at writing reviews. I have a review blog, I could use it if I wanted to. I'm just more comfortable writing about my feelings and emotions. However, there are times when you'll just have to forgive my horrid writing.

When M turned 1, I was a wreck. I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted to be the mom that threw the best parties. While the cupcakes were good, and everyone survived, it sort of made me not want to do parties again. Fortunately for her 2nd birthday, we had a good excuse. It was on Easter last year and we decided it would be best if we just had a low key family only day. It was then that I realized that among other things I am no good at birthday cakes/cupcakes.

Fast forward to this year. Well, maybe late last year. Basically I finish Christmas and then start worrying about M's birthday, in April. I was determined to have a different kind of party this year. Fortunately I had a lot of really good help in pulling off a good party. This is my half-ass attempt at thanking those responsible.

First, my sister-in-law. The woman throws a great party. She has a house made for entertaining. She can bake a cake too. This year she dealt with the challenges in our family for scheduling weekend parties by having a Sunday morning brunch for the youngest niece's first birthday. It was brilliant. Breakfast/brunch foods are easy to make. You can clean the night before, not worry about the house getting dirty, and everyone leaves early enough you still have most of the day. It also accommodates those who still need naps (M and the youngest niece) and my FIL who doesn't really drive after dark. She also told me how she invited the in-laws up an hour before everyone else. This gives them extra time with the kids (being her out of town in-laws) and keeps the kids entertained while you finish getting ready. I made my famous Creme Brulee French Toast, cut up some fruit, made a simple quiche, and grilled some killer sausage from Kramarczuk's.

Second, Salty Tart Bakery. There is a reason that Michelle Gayer is a national finalist for a James Beard award. For those of you that care, those are the Oscars of food. Also, Minnesota rarely has national finalists. We tend to get shoved in the "regional" section most of the time. They did an amazing job on M's Pinkalicious cake. Their butter cream frosting is creamy, smooth and not overly sweet. The vanilla bean cake was laced with strawberries, and there was so much strawberry compote between the layers that the middle of the cake basically broke down into strawberry heaven. The richness meant small slices so if anything, I would say we could have gotten away with a 6 inch cake instead of an 8 inch. The party was on Sunday, I've given away two larger slices, and we still have cake left. They also did nice matching cupcakes for M's daycare classmates that I picked up two days later. At my request, they had less frosting to make them more young kid friendly.

Third, Litin Everything Party & Paper. They are a local paper warehouse type place that has every color of paper/plasticware imaginable. They have paper decorations to match. We were able to make a very pink party at a very reasonable price. When we catered out own post wedding party (we went to Vegas), we got serving dishes, spoons, etc from them. I even got balloons that were able to pick up early on the day of the party.

Fourth, the husband and his Pink Flamingo punch. This one was also initiated by my SIL, but he rose to my challenge to make it HFCS free. (it is not dye free unfortunately) Based on Froggy Punch, from A's childhood friend. (Froggy Punch - 7UP & lime sherbet) His recipe: 1 bottle Strawberry Jarritos. 1/2 a bottle of Simply Raspberry Lemonade. 6-8 scoops of Wild Strawberry Sherbet. 1 tray of ice cubes. The sherbet melts a little and it makes a nummy and not overly sweet punch.

Last, Mother Nature. Seriously, best weather. Considering it snowed the day she was born, the kid is continuing good weather karma for us. We had close to 80 on October 1st when we had our reception. It was risk to have something in our back yard, but we totally lucked out then too.

My SIL mentioned yesterday that I seemed relaxed, and I was. My house was clean, I had the food ready on time, everything turned out. I hadn't bitten off more than I could chew, I had outsourced to the best where I knew I needed it, and I got to actually enjoy M's birthday party. I really think she did as well. She cried when everyone left and she had to take a nap.

PS. Everyone/everything written about above was paid for with my own money. (except my sister-in-law, she came with the family when I married in to it) (the husband too for that matter) I was not asked to write about any of them.

Drinking the Pink Princess KoolAid

Before I was pregnant, before I knew I was having a girl, I was sure of so many things as a parent.

I searched everywhere to find the perfect little coming home outfit in a bright cheerful color. I would not give in to the pink, I would not give in to the ruffles. I would raise a smart independent girl like my mom had. I would not spank, I would balance a life as a working mom. More than anything, I would not let those damn princesses in to my house.

I was smug as I saw them invade my niece's life. I wasn't going to give in like that, oh no, not me. I was better than that.

What I didn't realize, is that the princess mafia always wins.

The start them young, younger than any other cosa nostra. The sneak up on you when you least expect it. Their indoctrinations are made subtlety, with sprinkle donuts and twirling skirts. Who doesn't love to twirl you think. A little twirling never hurt.

Before you know it though, the mean girls are in the gang, and they're making sure everyone knows who is in charge. Do you know the secret word to get in to play with us. We're not telling, but you'd better know your princesses.

So you let them in. You let them in through birthdays and little things here and there. You let them in because you knew what it was like to be different to be an outcast. Girls who like dinosaurs don't get invited to the tea parties. Boys who make shooters at girls instead of acknowledging that dinosaurs are awesome don't help. The marketing department at Disney has won.

What they don't know is I have a secret weapon. Princesses can carry swords, and always wear a helmet to protect their heads. Princesses can solve problems and dig up dinosaurs and still wear the twirling skirts. Princesses don't need princes, and princesses can marry other princesses. Princesses can save the world.

A Good Day

You really can't go wrong when the day off from work is because it is Good Friday. That becomes sort of an obligation to make it a good day, right?

The day started great. A little breakfast and coffee (cocoa) out with my favorite girl, a little trip to Trader Joes where I let her have her own cart. Managed to keep her from running in to anyone. It was going great.

Until she ran away from me in the parking lot. The one full of cars full of people in a hurry to finish up shopping before Easter.

It was just the other side of the car, but my heart stopped for a minute when I couldn't see her. There was yelling (me), crying (her and almost me) and the day very nearly ended early. We went home, cooled off, and I decided that while I wanted to teach her a lesson about consequences, it wasn't worth wasting a beautiful day off.

So we went out for sushi (she tried two rolls and filled up on dumplings), had a great nap (both of us) and then got down to the real business.

The egg dying.



We were a little let down by the Paas pink dye, but we left it in there forever and got over it. After we were done, we celebrated with a little cold cocoa and lowfat cheesy poofs.

(what fun is it if your mom doesn't pile your snacks in pyramids)

Wordless Wednesday - We ride the bus together

Warm weather is here. I am happily freeing up the part of my budget wasted spent on parking.

In a Modern World

This parenting thing, this working full time thing, this trying to have a house that I want to come home to, this attempt at improving my health through regular exercise and good eating, this doing all of those things and more, every day, it is hard. It is hard in ways that I could have never imagined. It is hard in ways I never expected. It is hard in ways that slap me upside the head in the middle of the night and make it so I can't fall back asleep.

I grew up with a parent, or two, at home most of the time. When they weren't around, there were grandparents just two miles down a country highway. There was north woods and fields of vegetables to run free in. There were people around all of the time to answer my questions and teach me new things. The concept of a working mom was foreign to me until I was at least 9. Even then, my mom worked in her massage studio in what had been the bottom duplex in our house.

This thing I do now, this doing everything every day, is a thing that I don't know how to do. There is no manual for how to do it. All of the moms who work outside the home are too busy doing it. They are too busy just getting by themselves to share their secrets. Maybe they are like me, unsure that they are getting it right at all.

Monday, after a weekend of not enough sleep and lots of stimulation, M had a bad day at school. I was the one who got talked to after class. She was full of no's. She was not listening to her teachers. She was having a hard time accepting the consequences to her actions.

Work has been unbelievably stressful lately. I have been drowning my stress in chocolate, and chips and sugar. My fuse has shortened. My ability to keep it calm and cool and not let it show at work has come bursting out at home. I yell, I holler, I boss. I escape. I run (quite literally occasionally) away out of shame and a hope that it will make it all better. It hasn't. My fuse is still short, the stress is still there, and I keep giving myself more to do.

M got in trouble at school, but I did to. We're both going to have some new rules.

There will be no yelling, no hollering, no bossing. There will be pleases and thank you's, and listening the first time. There will be time for playing and snuggling and the things that are not important will just have to wait. I cannot do it all. I will bring something from the store to Easter, because I will never be the mom that can work the full time job, make the gourmet dishes, and still be the kind of mom that she wants to be. The one that her daughter deserves.

I will still make time for exercise, but I will do it in the dark if I have to. If that is what it takes to give time to the small person that matters the most. Everyone in the house will start cleaning up more. We will make the basement craft room/play area work because we have to. Because it is something that our family needs for its survival. We will clean the kitchen for the birthday party, and keep it clean.

We will do it. (because there is no try) We will make adjustments as we need to. We may get talked to again, by school, by work, by each other, but we will do it.

Queen of the Weekend

This weekend, after much hype and high expectations, M had her first sleep over. It was at Grandpa & Nana's, down in Red Wing, and while not that far away, it did require close to five hours of total driving for A & I. We're hoping that the success of it (and it was a wild success) means that maybe the in-laws can meet us half way next time. We're also hoping that they will keep her for longer at some point, perhaps in August.

Before we made it out of town, she was asking to go back, asking when she could go again, and falling asleep. Apparently no nap, late to bed, early to get up and lots of excitement (including an unexpected visit from the cousins) can really wear a girl out.

We made good use of the time alone to do fun stuff like go out to dinner at Solera (a 5th anniversary treat using a gift card given to us for our wedding). We also watched a movie and were generally boring (I have a cold and did not want to get anyone else sick, so we were really really boring). Best part however was sleeping in.

I also made good use of the time in the car to finally knit up a pattern I got from Knit Picks awhile back.



I tried to get M to pose nicely for a picture of it, but she was too strung out from a lack of sleep that we could barely understand what she was saying, let alone get her to follow directions. Fortunately the bear follows directions quite well.

One sort of worked out, but required a lot of blurring to make it blog acceptable. I think I may modify it slightly for her giant noggin and knit in a warmer yarn (the pattern calls for cotton) and make a really fun winter headband. For now I'm working one up in pink so there are at least two to play with when the cousins come for her birthday.

A Brightly Colored Life

When we redecorated M's room, I worried that it looked like a rainbow threw up in there. However, yesterday, with the curtains drawn and the bright evening sun of Spring shining through the windows, I realized how cheerful it was. Even when it was cold and dreary and gray, her room was nearly the brightest spot in our house. Second only to her.

Solar Energy

If I were 10, instead of almost 33, I am pretty sure I would have been skipping around all day long. Even if it snows, even if ceases to get above freezing some day, the end is near. Spring has all but arrived.

Cabin fever does odd things to people. It makes adults stew in their discontent. It makes dogs ask to be let out just to smell the one wee patch of lawn exposed in the snow. It turns the almost three year old in to a two year old version of an insufferable teenager. It is good for no one.

Yesterday, even though the sun promised last Monday did not show, and the temperature was only 40, we went out for a walk. Just to two of us. Mother, daughter, and my camera. It was overcast, but bright in a way that doesn't happen when it is overcast in January.

It wasn't the three miles that I managed to easily do last weekend. It wasn't the pace that I would have liked, but we did it. She smiled, she laughed, she didn't listen, she thought she had lost her pink bracelet, she found it after we turned around to go home, but she did it.

Afterward, we went to dinner, where the food was late, and she was hungry, but she behaved better than she had in a long time. So did I.

Spring is almost here. Today it was well over 60 and we did it again. We went for a walk, without our vests, in the bright sun and blue skies. This time we took the dog, and she went slow, and I had to chase her home, but we did it. We still had time outs at home, and frustrations, but that is just being two, going on thirteen. We grilled dinner. We cleaned up after a winter of a dog using the back yard as their commode. We all felt better.

The dog is no longer going crazy, she's passed out on the couch. I am no longer going crazy. I'm happily doing my housework, listening to my daughter snore in the room next door.

Skirts are Easier Than Dresses

Today at work one of the women, someone older than myself, when she heard I had been sewing a lot, mentioned how relaxing it is. She is right. It still may be the only thing keeping my sanity intact. Which may explain why I am sewing more than oh say, doing the dishes.

I also sat down and did the math.

Aproximately 1 yard of fabric: $9.50
Less than a yard of elastic: $0.75
Total: $10.25



Which is clearly less than what you could find a skirt like this for either on somewhere like Etsy, or better yet, at a place like the Gap. Other than having to use a zig zag instead of a serged finish on the seams, really not much difference in construction.

Balance it all out with the stress relief of sewing, and getting to pick out exactly what she gets instead of being at the mercy of designers that clearly don't have kids, and I would say it is almost paying me. Cheaper than therapy for sure. Even after the $9.99 cost for the cool pattern from Frog Legs & Ponytails.

Speaking of that. I've purchased two skirt patterns off of Etsy in the past few days. One being the above mentioned and another that I will not mention because frankly I didn't like it. Instead, I'll talk about what I did like about the FL&P one. The directions were very clear, and I think someone who wasn't an experienced sewer would have no problem following along. Unlike the Portabello Pixie's (the dress I made last weekend) pattern that lumped a bunch of serging in with a "beginner" pattern, this one mentioned it, but offered clear alternatives for those of us with more basic equipment. The other thing I really like is that she explains some more advanced finishing techniques. Things like top stitching can make something handmade look way more professional.

I will definitely get full use out of the pattern. I already have plans to make more of them. The first one was big hit.

Fabric Store Stress Relief

Work has me stressed. Stressed in that way that reminds me just why it is a bad idea to forget to refill the happy pills. I've been rationalizing my bad eating, my bad attitude, as coping with the stress. Really I'm just making excuses. It ends now. Plus, I got the happy pills today.

I've buried myself in sewing. I took a pattern out of One Yard Wonders and mass produced it. Assembly lined cutting at least 7 pairs of booties, then planned to sew them all up. Tonight I tried, but I'm unsure how I feel about the result. It looks... wrong. Which of course means that I will be spending the next few nights trying to alter the pattern enough to make it bend to my will. After I finish that, since I am pretty sure that the cut and unfinished pieces would drive me insane (we'll see), it is on to skirt making for M. Summer is coming, and I'm going to be super mom and make her a bunch of clothes...

Maybe that is the stress talking.

Like Rabbits

In the past three or so weeks I have found out that there are nine babies on the way amongst friends and family.

NINE!

That includes some that no one really knows about yet (still holding our breath for them), friends, coworkers, and an old family friend and his husband who are expecting triplets (3! at once!).

I need to get my crafty butt in gear. It started with a mere four. So I had plans to make quilts. I have the pieces of at least two downstairs in the craft things, in various states of assembly. I could do a non pieced quilt for at least one or two of them, and nearly all of them were due late summer/early fall.

Yeah... consider me completely under water now. The triplets! are due in early April, and since that one is family basically, I can't exactly phone it in. So I did what any self respecting crafter would do. I made something for my kid.

Andrea and I were supposed to meet for sewing a few weeks ago, and thanks to a slight communication issue at the shop, we ended up eating dessert instead. She showed me this adorable dress pattern for her daughter, which got me thinking about how I really should make some dresses for M. I haven't been finding anything sufficiently pink and twirly lately at the stores, and heck, I know how to sew. Reasonably well even.

We went to Crafty Planet and picked out this pattern. She would have preferred all pink, but I realized that wasn't a good idea. It is just mostly pink.


The pattern was nice, but I found at least three typos in it. If I were a novice sewer (it says it is good for beginners) then I would have been very confused. She also suggests using a serger for the "beginner" patterns. Yeah um... what beginner do you know that invests a minimum of 200 bucks in a serger. Those issues aside, nice overall design, I finished it in an afternoon, and she loves it.

I did leave off the apron from the front, but the sash stayed since I made it large enough that it can grow with her. I think next I'm going to combine two of the patterns and do tunic top, but with the top from this dress. As long as it is pink, I am pretty sure she'll approve.

On One Hand

You'll have to forgive me for a moment while I turn in to one of those bloggers who talks about her kid. I'm finding myself more and more moving away from writing about her. Part of it is that I've become more confident as a parent (delusional as it may be) and no longer feel the need to poll the Internet for advice. Part of it is that she is getting old enough now that I feel a need to respect her privacy more.

However, maybe this isn't about her so much, but more about me, and how she effects me. One of these days, maybe not so very far off in the future, she's going to be able to completely out smart me. She's already well on her way.

I've always been very proud of my ability to learn things quickly. I have a great memory for the randomness of things, as well as a knack for being able to make connections that others can't see. Perhaps it is the creative part of my brain working, maybe I'm just weird. Likely it is a bit of both. It annoys some people, but I've learned to shut up most of the time. When I was a kid, I almost always had an answer, I rarely could tell you how I got the answer, but I was right, a lot.

M seems to have taken after me a bit. She's picking up things up, sometimes it would seem out of nowhere. Over the course of the last couple of weeks, as she puts on her mittens (yay for being able to do it herself, thank you daycare) she will say "left one" and "right one". I'm usually in another room, making sure that I haven't forgotten anything (not that it works), so I haven't been paying that close of attention. However, I caught her doing it. Convinced that it must be a fluke, I've asked her which hand was which, repeatedly. She always gets it right correct.

Puzzled by this, I asked daycare if they have been teaching it, and besides playing the Hokey Pokey, it isn't even on their radar for things to teach. I'm pretty sure it comes some where after the alphabet and tying their shoes.

She asks me about random things I've said, days after I may have mentioned something in passing. She has started picking up songs after hearing them once, at best. She can manipulate a situation and has started to use the quivering bottom lip. She has age and cuteness in her favor. I may have burned a few too many brain cells while in college (at least I waited until I was 18 to waste them).

I am so screwed.

Words

I grew up surrounded my language. My grandfather (I only had one), had been an English teacher. I remembered his collection of Shakespeare, the one that now lives in my bookcase displayed despite its tattered appearance, in the bookcase outside my grandparents bedroom. He used big words. He loved language. I find it more than ironic that his oldest son, my father, struggled with words. Despite that, the love persisted in him as well. My father passed on that love to me. Somewhere, at some point there were audio tapes (you remember the kind, right?) of me reading to my baby brother. I wasn't even four yet.

I have always read to M. It was hard at first, the collection of kid books we got at first, the classics, never appealed to me. We made trips to local kid's bookstores when M was a baby, trying to find things we could read that wouldn't drive us insane in the process. We found Olivia, the World Snacks books, and The Bear Snores On (and every other one of those books). It made it easy, and she began to love books. Even if sometimes it was as a snack. The Olivia board book has one rounded corner and one that is still square.

I've been cautious. I have tried my best not to push her. She would go weeks without asking for stories, and I never pushed. We work on the alphabet, but I do my best to not be that parent. The one that uses their child for competition with other parents.

However, I quietly, secretly, have hoped that she would take to words the same way that I did. That I could share with her the love of words that I have. I have done everything I could to pass it on. I have used the big words, ignoring that some may not think she can handle them at only two. I have taken the time to explain, repeatedly, what they mean.

Something has happened in the last few weeks. Maybe it is that she is almost three. Maybe it is just the recent development/growth spurt. She is starting to get it. As I was exiting the parking ramp last week, she started reading off the OPEN sign on our lane. She has asked A and I to spell our names for her. She is picking out the letters in her name where ever she finds them. She is starting to get it.

I see those books on that shelf, and I am grateful that I was given the gift of words. The best gifts are the ones that you can pass on.