Write, Mama. Write.

More books and such

You never really know what you're going to get here, do you?  The toddler life?  Craft?  Efforts at art?  Mama musings?  Tangents...  I've always thought if I was an artist critics would go, "Well, it's absolutely unlike anything she's ever done" each time I had a show (irregardless of whether it worked or not).  I just like a little of this and a little of that, but I suppose patterns emerge.  And it helps to have a clean page look here, at least, unlike the piles of sewing and toys and library books and mail that change our home landscape by the hour.  Speaking of, I just enjoyed this post from one of my favorite sites to visit (she leads a very creative life and writes honestly about being a mama).

Anyhow, if you thought the craft book explosion was something (In Stitches is waiting-- "Egads," as the mayor's daughter would say in The Music Man!), check these out: These two Japanese books have come home to live with me.  We had a really lovely dinner with Kristin and her family on our way home from our vacation.  I ordered two little pieces of oilcloth last November (one of my first online purchases ever) and one thing led to another.  Nowadays I feel like she's a part of all my days and I hers, and I absolutely love working with Kristin on the Sew, Mama, Sew blog.  It's one of those things in life that falls into place and just works.  It was so much better to meet Kristin in person though, and her family is just the group of people you'd want to spend an evening with.  Her home was just beautiful and I wanted to linger and delight over the fabric (what an amazing grouping all in one place-- Kristin has a fantastic eye) but it would have been totally antisocial to give up ice cream for fabric!  Anyhow, these are from Kristin and she selected the best of all possible Japanese books for me (that good eye), all wrapped up in that beautiful fabric.

The embroidery book (ISBN 4-8347-2498-0) has all sorts of great designs and prompted me to buy my very first water-soluble pen and get to work.  It also includes various bag styles that incorporate embroidery (with patterns for all).

I love these simple birds on the blue. 

All Your Kids Need (ISBN 978-4-579-11133-6) has everything you could want for a child just heading off to school in Japan (I say in Japan because there's even a section on the best Bento lunches).  Everything's in here, from children's clothing to applique felt designs, millions of bag styles, costumes, softies... Patterns and step-by-step instruction for all (fairly easy to figure out from the diagrams, etc.).  It's a great spring board for ideas for kid items and it's hefty at over 180 pages.  A great book.

It probably goes without saying that we don't have funds for books like these. 

They're an incredible treat, something to return to over and over for ideas and I discovered I can actually read a lot of them from my old Japanese junior high days. 

As if that wasn't enough, Lauren, who lovingly packages fabric orders from the shop (and does all sorts of fantastic things to keep SMS running smoothly, like designing site graphics, etc.) was there with Matt.  They're on the cusp of big things with their graphic design business and probably just in life, and were great people to hang out with.  Lauren's learning how to sew, falling in love with fabric and creates these beautiful necklaces to sell in Portland and now (I just noticed!) in the Sew, Mama, Sew shop.  She gave one to me.  Thanks again, Lauren.  All in all, a pretty great evening.

Here's my first little Japanese book-inspired elephant:

We're growing up, content

Suddenly his feet are huge and the winter/spring/ someday shoes are now fall shoes.  He has opinions about how I should wear my hair (if it's up: DOWN!, if it's down: UP!) and always wants to swing (WHEEE!).  In the mornings he wakes up with a diaper update ("oopa, Mama...") and we putter around the house, making toast and eating applesauce, with soy milk for the boy and coffee for me.  We can sit and sort buttons for an hour together, or read on the couch for longer.  We bake muffins and he pours everything, warning me that the oven is hot.  We often stroll in silence.  Sitting on the dresser we can watch the wild kingdom of squirrel chases and blue jay battles in the hazelnut tree.  We paint, putter, pick, shop, run and play together.  We get each other's jokes and experience joy, sadness, stresses, contentment and just happiness together.  Every day.  This little boy is growing up and it's such a happy time. 

I think it's taken me a long stretch to get to that quiet, gentle, happy puttering as a mama (though it's never really "quiet" with an exuberant toddler).  Embracing the right blend of pattern and freedom to our days has often been marred by "shoulds," as in "he should have the opportunity to do X" or "we should do Y" or "a good mama should do Z."  I suppose I'm growing up too.  There are lots of times when I'm really stretching for a way to get out of the house, when I know he needs to be with some other kids or when groceries or obligations await.  For the most part though, now, with the sun shining and the crisp air, with a toddler who talks to me all day long and clomps around the house in Daddy's shoes, with bread to bake and laundry to fold and just enough extra "me" stuff thrown in it's a happy time.  Schedules and weather and moods all change and sometimes I want to make up an errand and keep on driving away from tedium... exhaustion... needs.  Most of the time though we are wholly content.  Laughter races through the house, piles of books topple and he and I sneak crackers and caffeine, respectively.  I want to hold onto the way little drawings and animals sprinkle through our home, and to this peacefulness, this togetherness.  So I'm tucking it away here.

My craft book ship comes in

Every time I see a book online I'd love to browse through I pop into my library account and place it on reserve.  Sometimes I'm fifth in line and sometimes hundreds of people want the book before me (I'll have a better chance of finding a copy of Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life at a garage sale years from now with my placement on that list!).  Somehow though almost every one of the craft-oriented books I've wanted arrived within the past week.  It's as though things are conspiring to inspire. 

I can't decide if I'm excited or just a bit overwhelmed with all of the swimming ideas.  I have a semi truck number of projects I'm plotting and a little bicycle basket amount of time.

Toys to Sew is in transit.  The local, beautiful yarn shop I hadn't visited in years is now a local, beautiful yarn, canvas and fabric shop with a great selection of books to browse through.  Come to think of it, that seems odd too.  I've given up on JoAnn's completely and needed a place in town for the little things (the odd package of bias tape, organic cotton batting).  There's a quilt shop with all of the latest, greatest fabrics and the snootiest, most rude people ever running the show (so that's out too-- I don't give my business to snooty/rude).  I happened to pop in to this new find the other day with a yarn question and was amazed with the changes.  I can walk to this shop from our house.  I guess I'm just supposed to sew more.  Anyhow, I found Toys to Sew there and while the cover doesn't look like much there are some darling little patterns inside, one of which is an elephant.  We're a bit elephant-obsessed around here these days and I think we need another for our herd.

Second picture from Nature Babies (beautiful knitting patterns and a great section on felting).  Third picture from Simple Sewing with a French Twist... I've wanted it just for the camisole pattern folded to the left.

I also wanted to add that my interview with Jennifer McMullen of Dishy Duds is up on the Sew Mama Sew blog.  I really enjoyed doing it and was amazed with her vibrancy, and commitment to acting on her beliefs both in family and business life.  Nobody really commented at last peek, which strikes me as a bit sad because Jennifer's such an engaging, inspiring personality and I wanted that to come across and matter to people.  Perhaps it's more like reading a magazine article; you don't comment aside from your inner thoughts on what you've read.

A marvelous night for a moondance

We'd been up for about eight hours and had been driving for around five on our trip.  The boy was calling everyone he could think of with urgency, "GRAMMA! GRAMPA! NANA!" on his calculator (yep, you read that right) in the backseat.  We joked that he was whispering, "They won't stop the car.  Meet me in The Dalles.  Rescue and feed me."  We were singing along to Freedy Johnston in the front seat, "Seven years disappear below my feet..." and it hit me.  I turned to my guy and said, "Happy Anniversary!-- Seven years!"  It's never taken us so long (early afternoon) to realize it was our anniversary and that's sort-of how we celebrated, with our boy in the back, relaxed singing and happiness all around. 

So no gifts were exchanged and maybe we'll go out Friday night for Thai food, but I did think we should document somewhere that we've been married for a happy, long, exciting and fulfilling seven years.  Long ago now T woke me up in the night (2:30 a.m.ish?) to get me out in the middle of the street to watch a lunar eclipse.  And then he proposed.  Along the way:

7 years of marriage
6 moves with heavy furniture

4 degrees
3 of us in this little family now with a (how can it be?)
2 (nearly) year old in the house
1 (self-explanatory, any permutation of explanation sounds exceedingly corny)

I cannot come up with a five, but he'd be able to if I asked for help.  He completes everything, if I need him to.  He's always here, ready for whatever should come.  He checks the pilot light and the iron and the locks and anything else I'm worried about every time without rolling his eyes.  Steady, calm, peaceful, talented beyond measure... Patience to my impulsivity.  He's also pretty much brilliant.  My mind rarely stops over-thinking but I never have to think too much with him.  It's just right and good and always has been.

3:45 a.m. today: We set the alarm and headed out to view our second lunar eclipse together.  Last time we tiptoed up to the entryway of an apartment and borrowed their white, plastic lawn chairs (plopping down right in the middle of the road).  This time we borrowed the boy's little green outdoor chairs (rescued from the side of the road by Nana) and watched from our front lawn.  Nothing had changed and everything had changed (and it's just right and good and always has been).

No eclipse picture but my grandpa carved this spoon as a wedding present.  Beautiful.

Patchwork towels + thoughts

Oops... Minor derailment from the "getting back on track" effort with a 24-hour flu bug (the boy) and resultant pick-up-the-pieces-and-do-lots-o'-laundry aftermath.  Add to that a little crafting with a deadline and I had another little blog break, didn't I?   

I do not like crafting with a deadline.  I like puttering when I sew or knit.  It just feels like too many things can go too wrong with such things (for me, anyhow), and if I can rip things out and try again it's no biggie.  When the clock keeps ticking it's more of a biggie.  Anyhow, these turned out fine and nothing went wrong.  They're exactly what I envisioned, and credit should go to Sally (of course) for being the preeminent patchwork kitchen towel inspiration of our craft blogging milieu.  We (sorely) need a set for our own house now!  My Summer of Crafting for Family Life is going to soon be my Fall of Crafting for Family Life.  When I wave to T in the morning outside the air has that crisp smell of back-to-school (slight pang still felt...  I loved calling my soon-to-be-students before school started, asking them how I'd be able to recognize them and talking about "Charlotte's Web" and such... One of the best answers for that question: "I'm a golden-haired, smart girl!").

Miscellany: Kirsten won something in that post a few back so I'm waiting to hear what/who is heading her way.  Best quote from the hundreds of posts on Bloglines when I got back was from Wee Wonderfuls: "He's gone on some sort of crazed toddler, multi-personality, power trip, tantrum freak out rampage... I half expect to find a board book version of 'Art of War' under his bed covers. He's kicking our ass."  It cracks me up and sort-of makes me want to look under the boy's mattress.  We're going through a little something here too.

This post is a little patchworky, isn't it?  I'll slowly get back to a balance (and unpack those last few things from the trunk-- Is that my way of trying to make vacation last?).  Far too many "...-":' here today, but it's this post or nothing and I can forgive the writing this once.  I forgot to mention these are some of the thank you gifts for our vacation.  We were able to stay in someone's vacation home which meant it cost us, essentially, the gas money to go (which was, essentially, the only way we were ever going to afford a vacation!).  These are for someone with a black, white and butter yellow kitchen and I'm afraid the orange might not be a good thing, though it was a good decision in the artistic sense!

Edited to add: the birds are Joel Dewberry and the brown floral is Robert Kaufman, both from Sew, Mama, Sew.  The orange is part of a Martha Stewart dish towel (my favorite!) and the white towels are waffle weave from the dollar section at Target.

 

Between almost-one + almost-two

Last year we went to the same place.  We were two with a baby, negotiating breastfeeding in new environs and clapping with glee at our little guy's first steps.  This year we had a full-fledged boy, opinions and energy and decisions all his own.  I was worried he'd fuss and cry and reject hour after hour of his car seat on our drive but he read books for hours, played happily with toy offerings and, when all else failed, madly channeled Cookie Monster with animal crackers.  We decided the nearly-empty miles of paved bike paths were safe enough for our boy in a bike carrier and rented one.  I worried he would be scared of the enclosure or unhappy with the speed or... Instead he propped his legs up in a recline, popped sunglasses on under helmet straps, yelled, "WHEEE!" on the hills and somehow found more hidden cookies behind his seat (and dug in).  The giant tube slide at the hitherto disregarded playground (last year we glanced at it out the car windows)?: pure joy.  I wasn't sure about swimming because our last swimming lessons were a year ago (too expensive) but thought we'd just give it a try.  With swim diapers and the hot tub turned down to a (chilly) safe temperature, we gave it a shot and within moments he was dipping his head in and paddling his way back and forth between us, giggling and splashing.  Each morning around 6 o'clock he'd pop up and announce the day's agenda: WATER!  HELMET!  PLAYGROUND! (well, his approximation for such things in the language we three understand).

Everything new was thrilling.  We explored and celebrated and laughed and got too tired then cranky with one another (all with zeal).  I discovered blatantly what I knew in my heart... My boy is adventurous.  He jumps in and laughs about it.  He has an unheard of capacity for vacation enjoyment.  Instead of those first baby steps he now careens through hallways.  He climbs and makes forts and sets agendas and helps us see what we used to miss.  Whereas I tentatively dip my toe into the unknown and walk along the edges and worry about the what-ifs, he jumps in and makes it happen and looks back as if to say, "Come on, already!" 

Last year we were two with a little guy, bringing him along and slowly finding our way.  This year we are a family of three, our boy speeding into everything new and pulling us along. 

Vacation = dishwasher

Home again, home again, jiggity jig (or is it jog?).  Random rhymes and songs fly out of my subconscious, thanks to my mother, and come in handy when you need to entertain first graders or toddlers (or husbands as we cross the Columbia, heading into Oregon...  We always have to sing "Roll on Columbia, roll on... Your power is turning our darkness to dawn...").  We had a fantastic time away and at some point my mind just sort of chilled out.  T asked if I was sad or tired or ? one time as we sat on the couch and I said I thought I was just relaxed.  His response: "Wow!" 

We're still easing into being home, unpacking and trying to hold onto the relaxation a bit.  Trip pics are still on the card, toiletries are still in baggies and a bit of my mind is wistfully looking back to cruising around with the boy in a little Burley carriage behind the bike (sunglasses and helmet the essential gear... He'd wear a helmet at all times, I think, if I'd let him).  So I'm making a tentative little return to this space too.  I'm so happy to be back (despite the incessant rain-- it feels like we drove home from summer to winter) but decided it wasn't our house or stuff so much that I missed; "home" is a return to the rhythms and patterns of the life we live here, together.  Sometimes I feel bogged down in the routine but the three of us, living our days together, is home.  It's that essential component that grounds us.  It enchants, comforts and inspires me.  This space here has become a little piece of that too.  Before we left I put all of the (thousand + from January on?!) "crafty"/"artsy" (non-boy, basically) pics on discs to give our tired little computer some breathing room.  It was hard to choose which ones to "archive," if you will, because so many of the crafty/artsy pics are memories and glimpses into those rhythms and patterns of our daily life.  It's nice to have a space to reflect on home.

More to come.  We took a little side pilgrimage to see Kristin (and her wonderful family, home and the fabric mecca too) and Lauren and Matt.  I have to share what I learned with my camera guidebook (I "need" an SLR), wax poetic about the most incredible piece of furniture I've ever even imagined in a Bend antique store, give you the "what to bring on a car trip for a toddler" low-down, figure out who gets what, do the media review (the zine came!)...  Lots o' crafting in the works as thanks for those who allowed us to vacation too; there's plenty.  For now I'd just like to say that having a dishwasher is a little piece of vacation every day.  It must be, I mean, because I can only imagine.  We cooked all of our meals on vacation in a kitchen roughly the size of our house here (it felt as easy as it looks on those cooking shows-- the latent chef within shines with added countertop), and I feel I must have gained hours thanks to that lovely, little, black machine.

We're off. Would you like a...?

All the news that's fit to print in our little home:

The boy discovered some extra-large, black dress shoes under his dresser.  They were from a gigantic few bags of clothing I bought off Craigslist months ago, and look like they were for a one-time event.  I decided to keep them "just in case" we had need for some fancy duds, and he's now utterly in love with them.  He tromps around here calling them his "BOOTS!" and insists on wearing them with white athletic socks.  Added to the mix is his first home haircut, with the buzz cutters.  I like the 'do but the total effect strikes me as a little geeky/prom.  It works.  Other happenings: we watched a movie (latest Bond... too terribly cheap to ever go out to see Bourne in the theater so this is the next best thing and I stayed awake through the whole movie!), drank wine and had Vermonty Python (delectable-- don't read the nutritional information).  It was fantastic.  Lots of crafting in my mind, but not in real life.   

We're heading out soon.  A wonderful, fortuitous collection of happenings means we get to spend time together, relaxing and exploring.  I'm taking cheese sticks and my camera's guidebook, which I've never read before (perhaps obvious from the photo, but I love snaps of pure joy).  I might create a thing or two, or I might just laugh with my boys and splash around a bit (I bought a new swimsuit for the first time in ten years).  Anyhow, I'm unplugging for awhile.  Since you stopped by though, here's a thought:  I've almost done 100 posts here.  I've been the happy recipient of a thing or two (or three) and I love good mail.  Kindness begets kindness and I think it's time I gave a thing or two (or three) away (plus I'm in that freaky, let's get rid of things phase right now you know)... So.  I have lots of stuff around here that I've made.  There's Henry, this bag (I'm really not a pink person when it comes down to it), a green flourish lunch bag and a changing pad...   This tote still needs a home, and so do the birdies.  Not all of it can go, but leave a comment and when we're home I'll do the random number generator thingy and the selected person (you?) can choose one of those things.  I'll throw in a few goodies too.  I might be lousy at returning emails, but I can do a mean (nice?) giveaway.  Even if you think this is cruddy stuff, I could always send chocolate or something.

I'm off to splash and eat cheese sticks.

Link love

Time to clean up the bookmarks and ask questions.  It seems like any time I put stuff out there, it's answered... Magically, knowingly:

• Remember my herbs of kindness?  We have a basil explosion and I need recipes.  How do you use basil in mouth-watering ways?

• I'm thinking ahead to this little guy's birthday in a few months.  It's early but I don't like to shop and am always looking ahead for deals, etc., plus people always ask what he would like and I'm a little unsure this time.  It seems like his birthday ends and Christmas almost immediately happens upon us.  Anyone have any fantastic ideas for toddlers between the ages of 2-3?   We don't do much in the way of plasticky-gimmicky, and electronic noise makers of any sort are out.  It seems he has far too many "toys" as it is (especially in this little abode) but variety is the spice of life and I haven't been able to alternate as much as he's grown into new interests and "baby toys" have gone by the wayside.  He loves anything mechanically-focused (things to manipulate, unscrew, etc.).  Any brilliant ideas?

• I found a fantastic, local resource for beautiful sets of felted wool.  What can you use it for?

• I do love these little shoes...  Am going to have to play around with some of those designs a bit.   Have I already linked to these?-- I do love them.

• We've got a lot of car time in our near future and I'm getting stuff ready for distraction.  Hours of distraction.  I found this great list...  Any other ideas?  I want to make a travel bag to house the car distraction goodies like this (shape-wise, without the cute fabric-- not that I have anything against the cute, it's just not my thing).

• I absolutely loved this post from Angry Chicken and, as I've mentioned, have been in the process of ridding our house from plastics and chipping non-stick bake ware.  I love what was said about going slow and not getting all OCDish about it all, as I have a tendency to freak out about it all.  In general I'm in this freakish tidy mode anyhow and keep tossing stuff into bags to send away (to family, to the thrift store, Craigslist, Freecycle...). If you came to visit you'd probably be forced to leave with a stack of magazines and a coat.  I've had to venture out into the shopping world lately which I absolutely hate (which, again, is freakish around here), and it only served to solidify my OHlet'sjustgetridofitallrightnow,OK?! vibe.  I will say though that if you have a train lover in your house, the Target $1 section has darling conductor hats and train whistles right now and which briefly, oh-so-momentarily, made me happy I ventured into Consumerland.

• I like this name banner, absolutely LOVE this beautiful scarf but can't wear the orange (despite my little guy's insistence on a daily basis), missed out on these darling baby shoes (had every intention of buying them immediately for no intended reason) and fell in love with this bag.  I guess I'm a virtual-world, imaginary consumer.

• How long does the second-year molar process last?

OK, I'm pooped.  Bag Month was a big deal and it's over now (and from the comments it looks like people got a lot out of the effort).  Time to create a little myself.  I suppose there needs to be a little creative cooking too... We've entered a "Everything New Stinks" phase, food-wise, and also an "Everything Old and Yummy Does Too" phase.  Any sorts of wonderful, nutritious ideas out there for quickie snacks/meals that appeal to toddlers?  I'm striking out, big time.

Rereading this I seem a bit crabby.  Maybe I am lately.  I know people have mixed feelings about how they create their space in the land o' blogs and there are a lot of people in the "Keep it Cheerful" camp.  It startles me a bit when people I know mention something I've written here...  I think it all seems so abstract still: a blog.  You put a bit of yourself out there and somehow feedback shows up (or it doesn't) but it still usually seems this separate, special place.  But it's me.  I love to write, and I enjoy the creativity this space seems to imbue into the routine of everyday toddler life.  It's a chicken or egg thing, but I think the reflection and the process (with a bit of product thrown in for good measure) feed one another and make things better.  The solitary is touched with a bit of camaraderie, the "blog" a reflection of what matters here and now.   When people mention something, comment or otherwise wave hello here I still feel like I'm walking in a deserted landscape and happened upon a picnic.  I like solitary walks, but the boy's persuaded me that picnics are loads of fun too and my answer to the surprised discomfort I can feel is to always be honest.  If I'm crabby, it's here.  I might tidy up a bit before opening the door, but being a mama is tough stuff and the joys of it, for me, involve the lows of it too.  Being pooped and freakish and wondering about how to feed this little guy and when our tooth-wrought crazy boy phase will (please, oh please) end is all part of me.  This way, when someone says they saw I feel XYZ on my blog, I can go-- Oh, weird.  They know that about me.  But, yeah.  I really, really do feel that way.  That's me.  I wonder about things, worry (always far too much worry), create, thrill in this boy... I'm a mama.  I write. 

I question (always so many questions-- Give it a year and I suppose this part'll be the boy's job).  There you go.  

And now for a little knitting...

We finished Harry this weekend and it was all too much to continue to cut and pile up sewing projects while listening.  I wanted to plop on the couch, relax and hear the details but if I only did that I fell asleep immediately.  So... I'm not a good knitter.  I think I hold everything too tightly and end up getting all sorts of kinks and weird things going on (and that's just in my shoulders-- I won't even get into the knit item!).  Each square's completion seemed a major (horns should toot) deal and this time I even blocked the squares which is just as satisfying as I'd heard it might be.  I'm trying to deplete the yarn piles around here.  In my imaginary world where I can carry a tune and dress in a casual, yet classic style I'm also one of those knitters.  You know the ones.  Sigh.

I was going for this.