It’s 7:30 am as I write this (though I know realistically I won’t get this published until this afternoon sometime. A girl can dream though.) We’ve been up since the ripe hour of 5:30 am. Ella is rolling around on the floor because APPARENTLY she thinks she’s supposed to MOVE.

Honestly. The nerve.

And I’m stopping to put the baby down for a nap. Already. It’s been a long morning. (See why it’ll take me until the afternoon to get this up.)

You might have noticed I took the weekend off.

There were a lot of reasons for this but the most prevalent one was that I needed a break. And my family needed a break.

What we needed a break from was the constant connectedness of the internet. And I LURRRVE the Internets. I love twitter. Facebook. My blog. All the OTHER blogs I read. The news. Shopping. Ravelry. Shoot sometimes I just like to LOOK at the internet. Just because it’s the INTERNET and it’s so full of stuff. And things. But I needed a break. I needed to feel creative and not tied to something plugged in (except my sewing machine). I needed to stare at my husband and *ahem* other things with my husband. Cause, whaddya know, I actually LIKE the guy.

Hm. Madness.

Also I feel a lot of silly internal pressure to turn out a noteworthy or thought provoking or witty post, and frankly, I just don’t have in in me right now.

I feel sometimes when I get wrapped up in the Internet (it’s like a proper noun around here) I can do just that, get WRAPPED up in it. The Man already works on a computer for a living. And I blog (thought obviously NOT for any kind of living). And that means that there is usually pretty much constantly a macbook plugged in and on and open at ALL TIMES in this house. And while I love the Internet and the blog I think it’s important to have balance, so this weekend I balanced my life. I spent time with the Man and the Baby and some time with the Big Kids (though they were with their dad). And I sewed. Oh the gloriousness of it all. It was one of my favorite weekends in a long time and I barely got out of my pj pants.

I made this:

And this:

And this:

(it’s a headband. I realize you can’t tell that)

Many of you know that years ago I went back to school. I went back to school so I could ultimately go back to work because quite frankly, my family needed the income. I believe though, firmly, that I was BUILT to stay at home (which is NOT to say I don’t get tired, crabby, frustrated and downright maniacal sometimes.). I love to bake and sew and craft. I love to take care of people (sometimes to my own detriment). I love watching my kids grow. I love it all. I love a clean house and a cooked meal and a happy husband. And my idea of a great feminist movement would be one where women got to do WHAT THEY WANTED even if that meant being a mom and wife their entire life an nothing else (clearly I was born in the wrong decade). It’s not for everyone, but it is for me. Anyway at some point that really wasn’t realistic anymore. Cause kids cost like Money. A lot of it. So I went back out into the grown up (mostly) non-diapered world.  And while I absolutely loathed enjoyed school  and I love being a nurse, somewhere along the way I packed away the creative pieces of myself so that I could give to those around me whatever little bit I had left at the end of the day. (Moms {and dads}, can I get an amen?) When we bought this house last year I was absolutely INSISTENT that there be space in the space for the Man’s drums/guitars/mics/turntable/other musical stuff I don’t understand:

I did this for a couple of reasons.

1. His musical gifts are one of the things I find hawt really intriguing about him.

2. When he played his first record after the turntable was set up in The Man Space he actually looked like he was about to cry. That is how much he loves this stuff. And I love him enough to make sure he has access to it at all times. Despite my raging desire to turn the room into a flowery shabby chic-y showcase of antiques. He deserves to have his space.

3. I think the everyone needs an outlet. Whatever yours is, if it requires a space, you should have one. Even if it’s a corner.

 

Which brings me to my next point. Today I will once again not be posting anything noteworthy or thought provoking because what I will be doing is working on my own space. I will create a corner for myself where there is now nothing but some diet snapple, a three-fourths built replica of Neuschawnstein and a painting of a frog.

It’s a sad space.

But tomorrow it will be mine.

 

Stay tuned.

(And note: It’s only 8:30)

 

 

blogging , crafts , sew something sunday , sewing

Oh so many things I want to say…. SO very very many things that I want to share with you my loyal readers.

I want to tell you about our trip to Super Duper Ginormous Baby Superstore to look for a bigger car seat for Hulk SMASH Buddha Baby. Mostly because I want to tell you stories about all the unnecessary baby paraphernalia they have there. Oh and about the lady feeding her 2 month old baby food by the case because he has acid reflux. She was fun.

I want to tell you about how Milo has taken to eating cat litter. And crap.

OH and how my self esteem has been so boosted lately by The 15 Year Old’s new found hobby of  making fun of my hair/clothes/oakland booty.

About Ella eating. Food! Avocado! Broccoli! Toast!

Oh and about the Old School Cloth Diapering (switched the pockets or prefolds and covers! Oh my)

Oh aaaaand about the things I’m making:

An afghan.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Floor quilt for Ella

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dresses! Pillowcase style.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Also a crocheted frog. Headbands. A skirt. Another Henry The Hoot. The pattern for Henry. Bunnies for Easter.

And… Myself crazy.

That last one most of all.

 

I have a bit of a problem. It’s call Overachieveritis. That’s an inflammation of the Overachiever lobe of your brain. It’s right near the WHAT THE HELL DID I GET MYSELF INTO section and just below the Holy Crap I STILL Don’t Know What’s For Dinner area.  The apparent cure for Overachieveritis is to not do so many things.

Because I have been afflicted with Overachieveritis and it’s in it’s chronic phase I consequently don’t have time to tell you about any of the aforementioned things. Only time to rock in the corner and suck my thumb.

 

And hopefully make a pillowcase dress. Oh and the 20 minutes it took to write this.

 

See you tomorrow beauties.

 

 

blogging , crafts , crochet , family time , OVERACHIEVERITIS , What the HELL did I get myself into?

If you were about the blog yesterday you might remember this little gem. The one where I was a whiny little be-otch. Last night the Man and I had to have a heart to heart about the dog. In other words, I told him the dog was making me insane. He concurred.

At least the dog wasn’t vomiting all over the house. And with the tofu incident of Tuesday behind us. I was feeling like things might be moving in a positive direction. Despite the dog crap and urine in the house.

Perfect.

That’s when I saw the Man bend down to wipe the floor.

“What are you doing?” said I.

“Just picking something up.” said he.

“What thing?”

“It looks like….. a tick.”

“A WHAT THE HOLY HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?” (it was in fact, slightly less dramatic. But only slightly.)

OK so there are now creepy crawling biting infecting mites and burrowing blood sucking ticks. Awesome.

While all of this was going on I received news from a friend (Emily @ Joyful Abode) that another friend was quite ill and having an issue with her milk supply (that is, breastmilk supply). She wondered if I had any frozen. I did not have much as most of it has been eaten in the form of a breastmilk popsicle but I said I’d get to pumping. And pump I did. Last night. Twice this morning. Once this afternoon. I managed to get quite a few ounces of pretty fatty milk for her wee babe. Yay boobs.We can keep her baby fed until she’s mended. No sweat. I bet we end up with more milk than she even needs.

Then this afternoon a phone call from one of my Hospice friends. Seems the son of a former very dear patient of mine was killed. That’s two deaths in a year for that family.

With these two pieces of knowledge and a piece of humble pie, I managed to get some distance from myself. As I sat pumping and thinking (because it requires both hands so what else could I do). I thought about losing a son and I thought about my friend.

And I thought about the ticks. And the bitey mites. And the smelly dog. And about 671 other things that are stressing me out right now. And what I came up with was this:

I’m really glad I have four healthy kids. And I’m really glad my boobs can make milk for two babies. I’m glad I have a nice pump that I can pump with. I’m so glad I have a friend like Emily who would call me on behalf of a woman who needed help. I’m glad I have a husband who is here to help, and kids who are HERE even if their rooms look like a nuclear bomb explosion site) I’m glad I have a nice house. And clothes. And food. And cake.

The glad list kept getting longer. And less vital to survival than something like, say, cake, for example.

I’m glad I got this brand new (40 year old) sewing machine.With all these fancy knobs for fancy stitches.

And that I have an enviable yarn stash. (of which this is about 1/18th)

And I’m glad for this dog.

Mostly because he’s sleeping.

(Actually the dog is still making me batshitcrazy, but I’m trying to gain perspective here people.)

breastfeeding , crafts , crochet , knitting , whine

Knitwit



I’m knitting.

Again.

This is going to be a little something for me.

Really little.

I’ll put up a super duper easy anyonecandoit tutorial soon.

In the meantime the blog is in it’s beta stages. My apologies.

Thanks for being patient while I lose my mind while trying to fix layout.

crafts , knitting

Presenting Henry:


The Hoot.

Standby. Tutorial to follow folks.

Happy crafting,

j-diddle

crafts , knitting