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We hosted a "field trip" of sorts, and a picnic outside for our playgroup today.
Once upon a time I had to take twenty Spanish- speaking pre-kindergartners to a butterfly exhibit and iMax movie. Without chaperones. And I don't speak Spanish.
It was really hard.
Whipping up a picnic lunch and a few hours of fun for a bunch of mamas and kids seemed fairly easy!
Yesterday we enjoyed our town's one-of-a-kind Art Walk and Procession of the Species parade. Everything seems a bit more magical when you view it with a little boy; it is pretty fantastic that bunches and bunches of people get together to celebrate art, animals and the earth. There's a free art studio open for weeks before the procession so anyone can create a costume.
As we were walking home a fellow in an apartment above the toy store had his speakers hanging out his window. He was blasting dance music and a block of people gathered spontaneously, dancing in the street. Those who weren't dancing were drawing everywhere with chalk.
There was a touch of a Mardi Gras feel (which I've never actually seen) and a bit of the WTO Seattle protest before the teargas (I did participate in that one). Add in a little Pirate's Booty for the boy and an iced Americano for T & I and we were set for an early evening of fun. Where else can you see a polar bear band?
So all that in my previous post but I still take great satisfaction in the products...
I solved the stroller problem. People always tell me I shouldn't have left it out in the rain and I feel I should defend myself: I didn't leave it out in the rain! It's just wet here. Wet, wet, wet as in over 16 1/2 inches last November alone. Anyhow, we finally made the decision to buy a new one. I color-safe bleached the old one and had it in the station wagon with the load of spring cleaning for the Goodwill (with a note telling potential buyers that it once had mold on the seat cover and straps but had been bleached). As I was falling asleep I had this thought that maybe, just maybe, I should try cutting the fabric off. The next day I did that, used super-hot water and more bleach in the washer (to kill any last chance of worry about lingering mold issues), sewed it back together and reattached it all. It's as good as new (with a small seam on the seat!) and we saved at least $100. If this ever happens to you and you think you don't have a removable seat cover... Just cut and sew!
So then I made this pad for the seat because it's always bugged me that there's hard plastic on either side of the boy's head as he jostles about on a run. We used to roll blankets up and rig them around his head, but that was just bothersome and looked bad too. I didn't want to spend money on a new pad and I definitely didn't want something fleecy/warm as we head into nicer weather. Incidentally, I wanted to get/make something similar to this though "cozy" for the boy's car seat when he was a newborn. The "certified car seat technician" I talked to said that unless a pad or head support piece comes with the seat (and/or is made and OK'd by the same manufacturer) it can actually interfere with the safety of the seat in an accident and they urge parents not to use anything extra like this. I thought that was interesting...
If I were to do it again I'd do several things differently and, man, making a button-hole is a real commitment, isn't it? Once you start it you'd better like it. I love this Moda fabric and I think it might make me smile when I run. Maybe.
The other night T told me I didn't need to always be such an over-achiever. He said I didn't have to worry so much and that I could just be exhausted. We cracked up over this, of course, because it fits so well. When I'm super-tired I just pile it on: the guilt, worry, cleaning... I have all sorts of things that need to go to all sorts of people (if you're one of them, have faith in me).
I don't have anything much to show (aside from the sun which is missing this morning but stopped in the other day) but I so want to write here for a moment. I want a minute before negotiating breakfast with the boy, before the post office and laundry and the stories and maybe even the painting because it feels like a day for paint. I've been thinking lots lately about how a creative life is so much more than the product you can show in a picture. T and I were talking about how in writing and in art (which are the same thing sometimes) you never really feel you are done. When I write I feel I could go back to the piece forever and always find something to change, to tweak. T says it's the same with his design work. You move on and you keep tweaking and changing and growing in the next thing you create. This is, I suppose, why you see powerful, amazing creations at different points in writers' and artists' lives. The creations build on one another, there are commonalities, new influences and a re-working of what has worked previously in a different way. The process is what's really important and interesting, though often you can't really take a picture of it.
Learning to appreciate the process and the "mess" it can be has always been a personal challenge. In school I was very goal-directed (probably in life too, I guess, and I can't realistically use the past tense there with honesty) and when I went back to graduate school to become a teacher it was really powerful for me. My master's program was at a school without grades. There are portfolio assessments and personal assessments (just two years led to the thick packet of narrative in my official transcript). In a program to learn how to teach we had movement class and visual responses and "consensus building" exercises that lasted entire days. Some of it still makes me roll my eyes but it was the exact right program for me to learn to be a good teacher because when I think of learning it is the process of learning that matters (and a grade?-- not so much). Learning (and teaching) is art. The messy, joyful, challenging process of life is how and what I want my boy to learn.
This is all fine and good when it comes to something that flows for me, like writing can. It makes sense that you work on it until you're somewhat satisfied (or, realistically, often until a deadline forces you to stop) and then you move on. When it's an area of my life where I'm more insecure, like how to be a fabulous parent or even how to create something special with my little sewing machine, I'm not as open. I forget about everything I just wrote and how the mess and challenges and the "not quite right" process of it all is how you learn and grow. I'm impatient with myself like I never would be watching someone else do it all. I forget about what's really important. I forget about that interconnectedness of art and life and process and growth. Imagine a writer or artist with a vast body of work that you love and admire, and then think of what would have happened if the writer or artist got stuck trying to perfect one story or one painting for years upon years (OK, some do that and still do fine, but what if they were stuck for a lifetime?). What happens if you try to perfect a moment instead of trying to enjoy the learning of one moment leading to the next?
Motherhood (life) is an art.
It's Book Baby day at the library and we'll bring home a big tote full of books for the week. We also, thanks to a big family of readers, Craigslist and a first grade classroom full of books in storage, have lots of our own books to enjoy. Despite all of this I find it really, really difficult to find good books for this age: 18 month - 2 year olds. I suppose I'm picky, and books are so subjective so what I may completely dislike you might love. The trick around here is that the boy has to enjoy the book for whatever reason but then it helps if T and I like it too because, chances are, we'll be reading it over and over and over (and over). There are lots I love (Olivia comes to mind) that the boy dislikes, and some he likes that I don't.
I know lots about books for slightly older kids, but this age is tough. The books have to have the right combination of not-too-many-words and interesting pictures and be not-too-long. I've looked for good lists of recommended books and I'm sure there are lots of lists I haven't found. I'm starting my own list of favorites here in hopes that someone might find it and find new books to add to their library list (and, really, in hopes that you'll tell me what I'm missing!).
I left out, oh, 90% of what we have around here because they feel so-so, and most things we find at the library don't fit. These are our current favorites. Can you help us?
Edited: As we try out new books and find ones we like I'm going to add them in below. Check out the comments for great suggestions (we've already enjoyed a lot of these from the library since you shared them with us and we're on the waiting list for the rest. Thanks!).
As we get slowly get breaks from the rain and even touches of sun we're spending lots more time outdoors. I feel this palpable sense of the restorative, calming power of being outside. Wandering through a little bamboo forest at the zoo this weekend I remembered exploring an old (now an educational, historical site) village in Japan and thinking I could hear the bamboo growing all around us.
The little touches of color now (and the big ones too) make the boy and I so happy; we point out the colors we know ("unk! unk!"-- pink!, "roh-roh!"-- red!) on long walks through the neighborhood.
Every hour of the day yesterday the boy ran over to the window and reenacted the fabulous experience of mowing the lawn. Machinery, a bit of noise, movement, change, a silly Daddy... Children help you see how utterly fascinating the little things in life really are.
We're getting dirty, muddy, wet and happy. We're enjoying the birds looking for worms in the morning-wet soil and the bees searching for a home. We look for neat rocks (any rock is neat, really) and pine cones. We're watering everything, even the lawn furniture. We're chowing down on banana bread under swaying branches.
Earth Day came and went and we didn't make any grand gestures, but we are loving the outdoors every day. The boy is developing that love.
It's growing all around us.
The other day we got up, played, had breakfast, got dressed and went outside. We took pictures, did a little gardening, played some more, did some chalk drawing, got the bubbles out, moved the lawn furniture, made a road and traveled on the little bike, took a wagon ride, played with the rice tub and threw the balls around. We came inside, washed our hands, had a snack, sat down to read and I decided I was exhausted. I looked over at the clock: 9:30 a.m.
Which is to say that I'm doing a lot but it just doesn't feel like I'm accomplishing a lot of things sometimes. You know, like things you could cross off a list. If you got it together to write out a list.
I did finally make a little smocket, courageously cutting into the bird fabric (Simplicity 5691 via Beki, similar free pattern here on sidebar). We were visiting with my grandparents, heading off to run errands and I mentioned that I had to buy red buttons. Tub upon tub upon box later I learned that my grandma is the reigning queen of vintage buttons (and belonged to a button club and knows a lot about the history of all sorts of buttons). These little red beauties are courtesy of her incredible collection. I love that the pocket button looks like it's part of the fabric.
What else? My latest interview with Erica is up on the Sew, Mama, Sew blog and I do wish I could have the (1) sunshine, (2) photography talent and the (3) darling little girl to take a picture of the smocket that looks even slightly close to Erica's amazing photos.
Oh, and I can attest that these spring rolls are absolutely delicious and easy and it's sort-of like the freezer paper stencils; It's exciting that I can do it myself. Yum!
This is making me very, very happy after the organization debacle a month or so ago. This is part of one of two shelves and I'm getting there with the tidiness factor. It's never, ever going to look perfect but it's pretty good as far as I'm concerned.
My mind's working a lot in the pro/con mode lately as we've been having really, really tough kiddo/mama days:
Con- The house is a disaster with piles of bills, junk and books all over flat surfaces. The bathroom needs to be cleaned, the laundry's out of control and the closets are scary.
Pro- We have a nice house to live in.
Con- The boy and I seem to be at an impasse with our mutual understanding. Even when I understand what he's saying and work really hard to get him what he wants, it's wrong. I'm just wrong all the time. We're both taking turns falling apart (me in the evening with T and the boy all day long with me). The poor guy is miserable with his new teeth, with the unfairness of not being able to easily communicate all he wants to communicate and with life in general lately. I think he and Owen might get along swimmingly. I'm just exhausted.
Pro- I have a beautiful little boy.
Con- There is no time lately to do anything for myself. No sewing, no sipping coffee, no writing, no relaxation.
Pro- The possibilities and the ideas (and even the fabric) are tremendous. And I'm busy raising a little boy.
Con- I'm barely seeing that husband of mine and when we're in the same room there are dishes to be done and blocks to stack with the boy and money to figure out.
Pro- I have a nice, thoughtful, handsome, smart husband who loves me while I'm falling apart in the evening, doesn't care about the piles and reminds me about all of the pros.
So anyway, the glass is more than half-full. It's overflowing.
Oh, my goodness. Would you look at what I got in the mail yesterday? I was sure the mailman was wrong because we only ever get bills and our one magazine, but the package actually had my name on it. Awhile back I wrote a comment over at Stardust Shoes when I saw this beautiful quilt (under "Trying to be Zakka"). I was lucky (oh, so lucky) because, being fairly new to crafty blogs, I found 6.5 Stitches (the source of inspiration for the quilt) and Pink Chalk Studio that day via Joanna's post and I also won something handmade by being Comment #27! From there I found Pink Chalk Studio's list of "Washington State Gals" (on her sidebar) and figured out that all crafty bloggers don't necessarily live in Oregon (though some really great ones do) or Australia (ditto!).
Back to the package. So I just looked at it for a long time, then I opened it and there were TWO packages inside. Two. And then I took a picture because I blog these days, you know, and I'm learning to love my camera. Are you seeing how I tortured myself by drawing out the actual opening of the packages? It was fun. When I opened Joanna's package I started tearing up which briefly made me worry that the dude in the post office was right the other day, but really all comes down to how lovely this apron is and how thoughtful it was for Joanna to send it to me. Joanna has a wonderful way of combining fabrics (look at those bibs [under "Say Whaaa?"], for example) that I'm always drawn to (and try to emulate these days!). The apron is so well made too... It's just beautiful (sorry, Joanna-- my pictures don't really do it justice!). I spent more minutes than I should say with it draped over my lap while T read last night, just admiring it, and the boy saw it and immediately insisted on wearing it with his sunglasses. It's official: We love it, Joanna. Thank you.
So that was plenty, right? And I'm boring you with my good luck (sorry). But would you look at what Alison sent along (the other package) from 6.5 Stitches? The most beautiful fabric and some yummy red chai... I love it all. I've eyed that flower print (below) for awhile now and it's so lovely in person, and pink and red both look wonderful with it. That snow-flakey-feeling print had "Prints Charming, Sydney, Australia" on it so I had to look it up (being new to all of this still, you know) and remembered all over again that Australia is pretty amazing when it comes to crafty individuals. Thank you, Alison. Thank you.
I explained this all to T twice and he said he still didn't quite get why the fabric arrived and I think it all just comes down to kindness. It makes me think of Violet & Rose's comment about my questions the other day. She wrote, "...I believe too that the resurgence of crafting and trying to live more like our grandmothers is a reaction to this. Some of 'us' are searching for better ways. Perhaps the old ways with a modern twist." I think there have always been women doing this since this was the thing to do, but the community I find here helps me to know that it's not just me. There are lots of other mamas trying to stave off media saturation and out of control consumerism. There are lots of people who'd rather take a walk than go to McDonald's. There are women making their own bread and jam and presents and actively making their own life for their families in harmony with what they really believe, whatever that is. It's easy to be bombarded with the bad (and this week was fairly bad in our little world-- the shootings, Iraq, Darfur...) and I've never been good at filtering out the bad; it's like "bad" has a press pass to my heart (there's our ongoing West Wing marathon seeping into my vocabulary, bad writing and all). So the good is ever more important and gives me hope and happiness.
When we moved here last spring I searched high and low for a retractable clothes line. I wanted to save energy (and money) drying our clothes outside in the summer. It was a funny search and I ran into lots of people who didn't even know what I was talking about but I got it, drilled it in, felt happy, put the first load up and then the doubt struck. The part of me I'm not so proud of (ha! Like there's just one!) started to worry if the new neighborhood (people can see a bit of the clothes in the backyard from the street) would poo-poo us for this radical move. I got over it, but my new, new neighborhood here is A-OK with my move. There it is again: good, hope, happiness.
The boy knows "good" when he sees it. After bedtime T found the chai package hidden under some blocks in the storage compartment of a little push plane. That's my boy.
Well, I didn't mean to complain. It's awfully nice to have heard from so many like-minded mamas and to know that there are similar challenges around the world. It's easy to imagine that everything would be different if our little family was in a different place, but this place is pretty wonderful in a ton of ways. It is a powerful feeling to sit down, write out a few questions about what I'm doing, and to feel like I've had some coffee and a bit of relaxation and rejuvenation with some friends the next day.
There was a point when I was, oh, under ten or so and our family exercised together in the living room to a tape. Mom and Dad were just being active and my sister and I thought it looked like great fun so we'd join in and there'd be lots of giggling. My memory is that the woman on the tape said this all the time in the "cool down" part (but my sis always has a clearer memory, it seems, and this does sound like something my mom could have picked up at a conference or something so who knows): "Relax, Relate, Release." I've relaxed, related and I feel a bit of release!
Perhaps things seem challenging lately because we've been under the weather with bad colds (the boy and I) and new eye teeth (the boy). Are they still called eye teeth if they're the bottom ones? Something about calling them "canines" just bugs me and "pointy teeth" doesn't seem right either! Throw in a round of immunizations and rain/hail/miserable weather and you've got a challenging Mama week. I worried for about 48 straight hours about the boy's shots (we had a bad experience with the nurse last time) and then he didn't even really cry and was thrilled to have dot-dot bandaids on his legs (this pic is from his six month check-up and is one of my favorite pictures of the boy because he has those chubby, chubby legs and was so thrilled and had the biggest grin on his face).
So if you look back through the week the only thing I've really made so far was cookies. I have been working on some free-form birds in the evenings while T reads aloud. T laughed and said he didn't know I was going to be embroidering an entire blanket, but I just didn't want to cut the fabric until I knew what I wanted the birds to "do." You know, what they're for?... Once I get a moment or two I'm going to work on my bird fabric project (you'll see... The fabric is gorgeous) and I'm also thinking about some fabric-covered thumb tacks and mobiles (which is not to say I could replicate this one as I know the artist works very hard to create unique items but I like the idea of it very much). I have used the coffee bean bags to create ties for the jasmine and climbing rose, but no sewing as of yet! Ah, and the book goes to Stefanie with a scan of the bunny pattern heading to Kristi. I think we're all caught up now. Oh, the answer to the "undressing before nap" question appears to be duct tape on the diaper tabs though it hasn't come to that here yet.
T noticed the other day that nobody comments if I post something where I write thoughts as opposed to, say, a bag tutorial. We were quiet as we thought about this for a second and we decided it doesn't really matter. It's fun to have a space to call my own (my very own) and today I'm writing thoughts. Run like the wind if you want or stay and "chat" if you want.
So, today: Questions about Motherhood in No Particular Order
1. Why aren't moms friendlier to one another? I mean we're all in the same boat, right? Or the boat might be constructed a bit differently but we're all bailing water out on occasion. Sometimes things seem, well, competitive and I don't really get it. I suppose the world can be competitive (or, who are we kidding... American culture is just downright competitive) so it's seeped into our cultural comparisons with the Joneses. Sometimes I see a mom in the store or at the Farmer's Market and I just know she looks like just the sort-of person I'd love to chat with. I make an effort and then I end up feeling like an idiot for trying to be friendly. The Mama realm can be such a chaotic, isolating, hilarious place and it feels sometimes like I'm back to teaching in the classroom. The other adults are a door away but I only get to see them at lunch (or now, after dinner!). Are we insecure about what we're doing and how we're doing it so we're nervous about extending our reach beyond the one year olds?
2. Why is stuff so important now, particularly when it comes to raising kids? When did it start to matter so much how much you have for your kid? Why do we feel kids need so many, many clothes? Why do we feel we need so many things as parents to raise children well? How can things like diaper bags and children's shoes cost SO very much? Is this an American thing as well? Consumption to the -nth degree?
3. How do you keep your child from taking all of their clothes and diaper off in the crib before nap time?
4. Is there ever a time as kids grow (though they're still little) when you end up with the time and energy and where with all to make an effort with how you personally present yourself as opposed to just putting your hair in a ponytail and throwing on the same pair of pants you wore the day before (because they're on the top of the pile in your closet)? What I mean to say is, does everyone already care and make an effort at 18 months and I'm just hopeless or does the boy hit two and I magically start to do something about the extra flab and pitiful clothes and such?
I think that'll do it for now. There are more questions, deeper questions, superficial questions... I read this article in The New Yorker last night about Parkour (I'd never heard of it before). The author described it as "a quasi commando system of leaps, vaults, rolls, and landings designed to help a person avoid or surmount whatever lies in his path," if that helps you visualize it at all. Anyhow, it also said it was "part extreme sport... and part gruelling meditative pursuit" and a "vocabulary, that is, to be employed in finding one's way among obstacles." A fellow just created Parkour in France as a boy and it's a big-time thing now, and I was thinking that's what motherhood needs. We need a new vocabulary as we head straight on, gracefully, through the obstacles. Then again, from that same fellow (now a man) at the end of the article: "'I’m still learning. I’m not sure of anything yet, I’m just trying to be as complete as I can... What I do is not really something that can be explained,' he said. 'It can just be practiced.'"
I'm off to practice.
Street sign generated here, found via Design Mom.
Did you see my (latest, greatest) ultimate find last week? Here's yummy Cooking Clips Recipe #1 for you, courtesy of C + H Pure Cane Brown Sugar sometime in the 60's (for you, Dear Homemaker, as the recipe booklet says). This is a Brown Sugar Bonanza Recipe, of course, and they were really, really yummy and easy. The recipe makes a smaller batch than cookie recipes do these days, which is probably good for you! Mine weren't the prettiest cookies on the block but they're gone now and that says something.
Brown Sugar Refrigerator Cookies
1/2 C (1 stick) soft butter
1 C C+H Golden Brown Sugar
1 egg, unbeaten
1 t vanilla
2 t grated orange rind (I left this out but you can be brave if you want)
1 3/4 C sifted all-purpose flour
1/4 t salt
1 t baking powder
Beat together butter, sugar, egg, vanilla + orange rind. Combine flour, salt, and baking powder; sift into first mixture and mix well (or just toss it all in like I do). The directions for chilling are weird so you can just: flatten dough to 1/8" thick between two sheets of wax paper and chill for an hour in the fridge. Use floured cookie cutters to cut into shapes. Bake cookies at 400 degrees for 6 to 8 minutes. Makes many "butterscotchy" cookies (but not overwhelmingly butterscotchy). You can also just chill this in a roll and cut 1/8" slices off, and you can also frost these though they're plenty sweet as is.
I also recently found this little 1979 Simplicity book with tons of crazy, fun 70's-verging-on-80's patterns and projects.
The bunny is cute, and the bags are great (I offered to make T a custom "tabard" [left, center pic in the bag spread] for his running and he said, "No.").
Anyhow, I don't need this anymore and it can be yours if you want it. Drop me an email or comment and I'll find some random way to pick a name (assuming there are more than two people in the world who will see this and get excited like I once did). It's all beat up but it's fun.
Plus you could hate all of the patterns and it'd still be a plus for all the fun you'll have enjoying the Fabric of the Month Club ad. Oh, there are crochet patterns (crocheted jam topper, anyone?) too...
We had a very unglamorous weekend demolding various items from a shed gone wrong and doing taxes. Last night T and I just sat here stunned, looking at the numbers. We know it's difficult from month to month, making this whole one-income thing work in a very income-focused world. When you see all of the numbers put together though, and you mentally subtract for things like, oh, food and housing and a car payment (had to do it when the boy came so we could get around, you know, safely) you think: wait, that doesn't quite work out, does it? But it does, and I am a wee bit proud that we somehow make it work.
So, as with most things around here (if you want it, think: can you make it or find it from someone for little or nothing?), while I was "Ooh"ing over this sparrow stencil via Daily Candy I remembered that I can do it myself if I really want to and it felt good.
Not related to anything: I'm still loving the small people on applehead and there's a Beth now (I'm a Beth and Mama too).
Oh, these coffee bean bags... There's a massive, neck-high stack of these beauties (I think they're very cool and love the graphics) at our local coffee roasters. For a dollar donation to an organization that supports children you can comb through the stack and find one you like (by the way, every time we have a stack of anything around here --pea on cup on graham cracker-- we have to yell, "STACK!" at the top of our lungs... The boy insists.). I have visions of bags (as in totes) but there are a few problems. I'm not certain about the best way to sew these (i.e. is there a type of zig-zag stitch that would work the best?). I tried using a similarly-constructed rice bag and it just fell to pieces because the weave of the fabric was so big. Also, I had these hanging to air them out and it rained. We were out running errands, came home, and I stepped out of the car and thought someone was smoking a little (LOT) of pot somewhere very near. When they get wet the raw bean/"fabric" smell gets bad. I don't want to throw them in the wash because I'm worried the dye will cause problems. What would you do? How can I make this work?
...And I'm trying to relax and avoid all that needs to be done (taxes. still. gulp.). It helps that we're minutes away from the Capitol campus and can easily enjoy climbing steps and spring flowers between rain breaks.
The most gorgeous bird fabric of all time and some coffee bean bags await my scissors. Curious? Oh, and Laan used the dish towel tote tutorial and it worked just dandy and I'm so thrilled! And Kayla figured it out on her own and is whipping up more than a few herself... Very fun!
The new and improved Martha Stewart dish towel tote tutorial (by me, not Martha, but I think she'd approve) is up on the old site (Yep, that's the whole title). These are so easy and fun. I'll add it here once I have the time to figure out how to do so with albums and such in Typepad. T says this is his favorite tote yet and I do love this pattern set (also used here).
I was going to link to the K-Mart site to show the sets I have and love and which ones I want more of and they're gone. Gasp. I hope they're still in stores?! It's the only good reason to go to K-Mart, I believe. During my last dish towel mission I was approached by three burly and aggressive men (at the entry, in the housewares isle and by check-out)... They just wanted to sell me siding and a newspaper subscription and I can't remember what else but, really, how do they expect to maintain a business if they let siding salesmen set up shop on card tables right inside the door?
But, I digress (I always do). Happy Friday!
New shoes for spring and summer in the growing, green grass. Yippee!
Our darling little gnomes came from Honeyflake and we love them (the boy + I). They're just perfect (thank you!). They'll be popping up all around the house now.
But it's not green, you say. Oh, but look...
It's 60's green. There's a little "Friends of the Library" section we always stop by on our way to the Book Babies (story time)
room on Wednesdays. Yesterday I found this book stock-full of the most amazing recipes from the 60's onward. It's really a treasure.
I felt a bit bad, like somehow I was taking this from the rightful owner. Then I thought that for whatever reason it came to be sitting there on a day when I really needed a little pick-me-up, and hundreds of people could have spotted it and not appreciated it the way I will appreciate it. I take the ownership of this treasure as a real gift. And it's for you too. I'll share good recipes with you. I think the person who worked so hard to clip, jot down and collect such a wonderful collection would want to share this with you.
I want to see what that Brown Sugar Bonanza's all about!
Guy: "Do you have a family history of diabetes?"
Me: "Uh... No... I don't think so."
Guy: "You are oxygen deprived, probably through your skin."
Me: "?"
Guy: "I've been studying iridology since I was 7. I'm pretty good at it."
Me: "Oh" (The boy hides his face in my chest.)
Guy: "Yep. You are oxygen-deprived and you also have a hormonal imbalance. Something isn't balanced in your hormones."
Me: "Oh... Well, you never know what you'll learn waiting to mail a package."
Guy: "That's for sure."
There was a little blurb on Literary Mama (T found this cool site for me the other day when he searched for "Write Mama" in Google) about a contest. You were supposed to submit a 500 word essay on "When Parenting and Writing Collide" for publication in a magazine. I thought and thought about it during nap time, and then I saw that the deadline had passed. I thought about it some more and wrote something anyway before the boy woke up. It's a little more than 500 words, but it's just for me so I'm letting that slide. Tomorrow it's Muppet birds and more on the Perfect Skirt Replacement Saga, but today here goes nothing:
When Parenting and Writing Collide
Our Monday playgroup of toddlers always involves a collision or two. There are often tears, a little food to redirect attention and sometimes there’s even a bit of Tylenol for the really big, headache-inducing bonks. Sometimes my Mama life involves tears, too much
snacking and it even involves medicine on occasion when lack of sleep and the push popper collaborate to induce real pain. Writing and parenting for me, however, has grown like my boy; there’s steady growth with periodic “ahas!” A look back leaves me shaking my head, a bit breathless with how life works and time passes.
It seems like some Mamas have it all together from the start. They love every moment, and they’re completely confident in themselves and their child. They trust the world. They’re happy. When my boy was born I was happier than I’d ever been in my entire life. I think it was bliss and contentment all wrapped in a Zen calm of joy. I was also in pain, dizzy from exhaustion, worried beyond belief about anything that seemed to warrant worry (everything). This wasn’t a week-long struggle. As I slept more I got it more “together,” but being a Mama for me is still full of the bliss, contentment, calm, happiness, pain, exhaustion and worry. I feel things deeper. I have less control. My faults seemed amplified. I feel true joy on a daily basis.
The blur of the boy’s first months in the world cleared a bit when I figured out what a blog was. I created a place to write about the boy and I started to write every other day or so. At a year and a half the boy’s real baby book is scraps in a box, but his virtual baby book is full of the excitement of special moments. There are moments like when my husband and I held the boy together upstairs in our cabin and he beamed his first smile at both of us. Along the way I wrote and tucked some of the Mama feelings away elsewhere, and gradually I created my own site, my own folders in the computer full of writing and I also started writing for others.
The big “aha!” in my own collision of parenting and writing was that I need to write to parent well. Parenting for me just works better when I can think through my writing, and moments come into focus through my writing that might slip away without the outlet. One day when he was a few months old I tried desperately to hold my boy’s attention with some silly toy. He kept gazing away. I finally realized he was staring at the fir branches above, waving in the wind outside the window; writing about it helped me think about how important that moment was to me as a parent. I was learning about my boy and about who I wanted to be as a Mama.
Writing and parenting slowly became a part of who I am and who I always wanted to be. The collisions happen during naps and at midnight. They are bursts of feeling at 6 a.m. with a coffee mug in hand. The “N” key has now worn away on our keyboard and the blur continues to clear, just as life gets more fuzzy and complex.
Very odd, but somehow T & I became the ones who help the Easter Bunny rather than the ones who hunt for eggs. I had the same feeling this past Christmas; suddenly the boy can do things like open presents and dye Easter eggs and somebody (or two somebodies) needs to make it all happen. I had a mini- (internal) meltdown when trying to find some clothes for the boy for our informal family gathering yesterday. Somehow the historical record of me + motherhood seemed to rest on what the boy would be wearing in the pictures yesterday, and I certainly hadn't made any seersucker pants for the occasion. I hadn't even, really, done laundry.
So the boy was asleep, T was helping the Easter Bunny outside and I was drying my hair when our first grandparent guests arrived, and it was a beautiful, happy day. The boy has never had such sustained happiness, and I really think it trumped other special days like his birthday and Christmas for him. He was surrounded by three sets of grandparents who love him and think he's brilliant and funny (he is, of course). When he woke up from his nap he looked out our sliding glass door to the backyard and kept saying, "Uh-oh! Uh-oh!" Someone dropped a whole bunch of eggs out there! When I look at the pictures I'll think about how happy we all were, and the boy looked pretty cute in his shortalls and T-shirt. Those bits of sustained joy are really what I want the historical record of me + motherhood to show.
Egg pictures after the holiday are a bit odd (so yesterday!) but it's in keeping with the pace around here lately.
I made lots of baby gifts this weekend (overdue presents + showers + things to go in the shop soon) and I love this new mat style (I made a few). The boy and I also have more bibs, undoubtedly inspired by bibs like this or this, or even patchwork like this or this. I'm still unhappy with this particular one because I continue to develop a relationship with my new machine (read: try to make it like me) and I'm still not used to how it switches back to the default setting when you change where you want the needle. I meant for it to have long stitches around the edge and ended up with a continuous line!
I love these (and I kind-of get a kick out of the boy eating peas + carrots while wearing a bib made of Peas + Carrots, but that's just me and I think it solidifies my standing as a complete nerd).
When the sun shines around here you have to go outside and play. Everything has a new look to it with all of this light, and in 45 minutes at the Farmer's Market yesterday the boy got a sunburn. I'm falling more in love with our town, by the way, as in just two day's worth of walks the boy and I have watched part of a high school girls' fast pitch game, played on an elementary playground, listened to a live band and shopped for fresh produce direct from the farm (iced Americano in my hand, graham cracker in the boy's). Sun makes all the difference.
We're off for some more outside play (with sunscreen this time).
Before I was a mama I had zero opinions about a lot of baby-related things. Now I can wax poetic about bibs. My
mama made the boy some beautiful cloth bibs with the same pattern she
used in the 70's when she made and sold bibs (for a lot of money, by
the way... I don't think the going rate for a handcrafted bib is
keeping up with inflation). Nana's beautiful bibs died a tragic,
collective death one afternoon a few months ago when I got the great
idea to soak them all together in a bucket of enzyme cleaner.
Something turned ugly and little stains took over the bibs in what
looked like a moldy, science-experiment mess and the "growth" never
came out.
Since then we've been using some hideous hand-me-downs. The wonderful lady who gave them to me was so apologetic about how ugly and stained they were but she thought they'd be good as burp rags or some such thing early on. In our bib desperation we turned to the uglies. They barely fit over the boy's head. I briefly considered taking a picture to show you the horror but there's enough bad stuff in the media.
Anyhow, in any given meal the boy can take an hour munching, stacking (Look, Mama!: peas on chicken on crackers precariously balanced on the sippy cup!), rejecting my cooking and being the silly little guy that he is. So, essentially, we spend about 18 hours in the kitchen (which is also our dining room which is also our living room, if you were interested) every day. Okay, not that much time but some days it really feels like more than that. We'll be enjoying the new "Dot! Dot! Dot!" and "Dagaz" (doggies) bibs now and I can't tell you how very happy that makes the two of us.
I used scrap double-folded bias tape from the splat mats for ties as
I'm fed up with my snap doohicky (why are snaps so expensive, by the
way?) and the boy is getting BIG (BIG = big neck too). This way
they're adjustable and he can't whip them off (Velcro was out at 7
months).
Okay, I didn't exactly wax poetic but four bib pictures in one day?-- That's a bit much.
It's funny how such a simple, little thing (well, three with two more
on the way) can make such a big impact on the happiness scale.
