Friday, March 31, 2006

No New Is Good New?

(It's time for the April blog exchange! I'll be posting over at here today. Please welcome Mel from MamaMamaMaternity.....and we're clapping....clapping.....)

Sitting down to do this blog exchange topic was like being back in high school English all over again. The topic “new beginnings” just didn’t do it for me. I pondered and considered and deliberated. Nothing. Maybe it is because I am not a new beginnings kind of girl. New beginnings mean change, and change is not my thing.

Sure, new can be good. There are certain “news” that I like – new clothes, new shoes. There are certain “news” that I don’t - New Mexico, nougat (okay, so I’m reaching a bit with that one, but ...ick).

Nope, I am a status quo kind of girl. Change stresses me out. I don’t like that. Things that take me out of my comfort zone make me … well, uncomfortable.

I prefer to languish in the monotony of life, as I know it, rather than venture out into the vast uncertainty of change. Some may think I am missing out; shielding myself from getting the most life has to offer me. I disagree. My husband was my best new beginning ever.
But now the crazy, head over heels passion has evolved in something more comfortable. Like a soft, warm sweater. Call me boring, but if it comes to braving the elements or curling up in a comfy sweater, I’ll take the sweater in a heartbeat. Yes, there have been times in my life where I wanted nothing more than\n to start from scratch. To give the Etch A Sketch a good shake and move forward, but they are few and far between. I view starting over as a stepping-stone. It can be scary to step out. It may be slippery. But it is temporary, ultimately leading to the secure feeling of solid ground underfoot. So the winds of change may blow, but I can handle it - I’ll be wrapped in my sweater. Mel is a wife, mom, business owner, and mediocre blog writer, who enjoys long walks on the beach at sunset. You can read more at - or at the very least, stop by to check out the only mom blog decorated with an Elvis impersonator.

But now the crazy, head over heels passion has evolved in something more comfortable. Like a soft, warm sweater. Call me boring, but if it comes to braving the elements or curling up in a comfy sweater, I’ll take the sweater in a heartbeat.

Yes, there have been times in my life where I wanted nothing more than to start from scratch. To give the Etch A Sketch a good shake and move forward, but they are few and far between.

I view starting over as a stepping-stone. It can be scary to step out. It may be slippery. But it is temporary, ultimately leading to the secure feeling of solid ground underfoot. So the winds of change may blow, but I can handle it - I’ll be wrapped in my sweater.

Mel is a wife, mom, business owner, and mediocre blog writer, who enjoys long walks on the beach at sunset. You can read more at - or at the very least, stop by to check out the only mom blog decorated with an Elvis impersonator.

This post is part of a monthly blog exchange, held on the first of every month. We all write on a topic (this month is New Beginnings) and post on another person's blog as a way to gain new readers and find new blogging friends. This month's participants include: Christina, Kristen, TB, Chase, Mel, stacy, Julie, Laurie, Mabel, and Vicki. If you would like to participate, please email Kristen at kmei at yahoo dot com.

Thing-a-long update, and random Friday

1. It looks like I've got a couple of people all ready to Thing-a-long....there must be more of you, right? I'm very excited. Don't ask what that says about me. So, here's what I'm thinking, since we just had Happy Spring Equinox, maybe it could be a Spring-Thing-A-Long, ending on June 21st....the Summer Solstice. You can join anytime, make anything, and the only rule is that you try to post a picture of your thing once a we can see the progress. Sound ok?

2. It was about 70 degress here yesterday. I was so happy I cleaned my car for the first time in like a year. Ahhh...spring!

3. Little A lost another tooth. This is the third, with a 4th hanging on by a strand. After the traumatic first loss, the second went fairly smoothly, even though it was MIA for a while. Then yesterday, number 3 fell out while she was having a peanut butter sandwich. It bled a little, which cause near hyperventilation, and then the tears. This time, as it was her 2nd top middle tooth, she thought that the loss would render her completely unable to bite or eat. She calmed down eventually, but certainly not due to my reasoning with her, "It hasn't been helping you bite for the past few days was too loose....The other's are growing in really fast (liar mommy)..." It was due to the fact that at some moment, we both realized that she had finished eating her sandwich in between sobs, and luckily this proved to her that her mouth had not been irreparably broken with this loss.

4. I slept with my window open last night...and woke up feeling oddly rested. I love spring.

5. I just got the books Folk Socks. This is bad. Bad like dope to a junkie, man.

6. Spring has made me insane. Little A and I could be seen last night at our neighborhood park, talking to the buds on the trees. "Hello little buds! Welcome back!!!" I'd like to tell you that Little A initiated it....but......

7. I'm very happy that's it's spring. Did you happen to get that?

8. Guest blogger tomorrow, so stay tuned! For once, there will be something good here on the weekend! :)

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

A Thing-a-long?

There are many, many things I love about knitting, well about making things of all kinds, but today we shall have a knitting post. The first thing that I love about it is that there is always more to learn. Even if you've been doing it for years, you could pick up a book and find something completely new to learn. But we're not talking about that one today.
Another thing I love about knitting is it's potential. You can take a crappy old sweater, rip it apart,

dye it with kool-aid,

reknit it (that shoe is a size 8 women's shoe just to show you how freaking big it was before felting),

and felt it into something completely new and groovy (minus the handle which needs some serious reworking....I had a little ~felting problem with it and so far the tweaking has been tweaked).

That kind of transformation just never ceases to delight me. So I had an idea the other night as I was messing with this:

It's a case for this weird little not-palm-pilot-not-lap-top thing I have:

I thought I would just keep adding stuff to it. Whatever....crochet, knit, applique, whatever struck my mood and see what happens. it needs more padding anyway, and it needs to be a lot cooler than it is (this is the other side):

I'm wondering if anyone else wants to do it with me? You could just knit a shell of something...a bag, a case for something, a scarf...whatever...and then over the course of the next few months, add whenever you feel inspired and post the progression on your blog? If enough people want to do it, I'll make a section in the sidebar for participants in the uh....Thing-a-long. I just think it would be SO cool! But there's a chance that I'm just a total freak in the middle of nowhere right now, and that would be ok (since its not the first time 'n all)! I'll still show you updates on my thing. Drop me a comment if you want to do it.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Dear Interweb,

I have a problem. Not a big problem. Just a problem that I'm sure you can all help me with.
I have Netflix. I have a "queue" that contains heavy, heavy movies, almost entirely. I like these movies, but I'm having a hard time getting through the list. You sort of have to be in the right mood to watch Hotel Rwanda, yuh know? I need some good feel good movies or else I'm gonna end up paying $14/month while The Lost Boys of Sudan and Control Room wait for my proper viewing mood, which is not a lazy Saturday night when I most often have a free couple of hours to watch a flick. So, PLEASE, I need some movie recommendations, keeping in mind the following:
Billy Eliot and Amelie are among my favorite feel good movies. I don't always need to lean that artsy fartsy, but I don't like cookie cutter comedy/romance movies.
Sometimes I'm goofy enough to like slapstick...but usually in older movies (i.e. not like Jim Carey slapstick...too much I'd say.)
I don't like movies that try too hard to shock me (like the horse sex in 40-Year-Old Virgin...though otherwise I liked it.)
Gonna have to say a big no to Meg Ryan, Tom Cruise, Renee Zellweger, Keanu Reaves, and Cameron Diaz. Sorry, just can't take them.
So, got any good ones for me? Pretty please?
PS - It would be nice if they were movies that N might also watch, but this is a tall order being that he likes "true" stories, movies with at least one black person as a main character (he denies this sometimes, but always asks me if there are any black people in any movie before he consents to watching it), and movies that verge on cheesy (verge? Who am I kidding....he likes A Walk in the Clouds for god's sake, but don't tell him I told you).

Friday, March 24, 2006

2nd grade militants

Last night, Little A had an open house thing at her school. They have approximately 143 of these each year and always stealthily combine it with a PTO meeting. After much negotiation with Little A, we decided that we would go, but that we would be late, so that mommy would not have to spend a half an hour trying to control her eyeballs from rolling around in her head from all the self congratulation that goes on at these "meetings". (I'm telling yuh, throw in a red carpet and it would be the god damn Oscars.)

We arrived with perfect timing. The "meeting" had just adjourned and we were able to meld into the throng of parents heading up the stairs to go to the classrooms. Little A was all a flutter and bounced down the hall so quickly that I nearly lost her and almost walked into the kindergarten room (I'm really nominating myself for mom of the year in this one, aren't I?).

We finally reached the 2nd grade room and said a quick hi to Little A's best friend's mom. When I turned around to take in the room, there was the principal, waiting.

As usual she said, "Hi Little A's mom!" It became clear to me around the middle of last year that this woman will never know my name, so I'd just better be thankful that she knows my kid's name and yet is STILL happy (presumably) to see me. "There's a table from the young republicans Girl Scouts in the Cafeteria," she says.

"Oh..." Mustering the best fake smile that I have.

"I'd love to get a group going here at the school, so maybe you can stop down and take a look at it?"

"Uh, yeah. We'll stop by on our way out." Lying to the principal felt vaguely familiar and easy, like an old alternateen flannel. And with that I escaped.

But here, now, I would like to say exactly what I was thinking (what else are blogs for?) before my escape was so well-executed.

Why the fuck would I give a shit that the young republicans Girl Scouts have a god damn table in the cafeteria? WHY? Do you think I really want to spend time and money that I don't have on an organization that wants to teach my kid to be a god damned 50's housewife? Do you think my kid, who already is loaded down with 1-2 hours of homework EVERY night from your god damn school that can't get shit done during the day, needs to be subjected to more senseless meetings? And do you honestly think that I have never heard of the young republicans Girl Scouts and that if I had a true interest in being a part of it, I would've maybe already done so? And do you think that my previous experience with the young republicansGirls Scouts really makes me have a lot of faith in their basic abilities to keep my child safe for like an hour. Do you remember? When Little A went to a young republicans Girl Scouts camp and I later received the registration form back through the P.O., meaning that it was never received and that the young republicansGirl Scout bus was just picking up any old random girl at the bus stop. Does it REALLY seem like I give a shit about the young republicansGirl Scout table in the cafeteria?

I've been a little.....moody.....this week. I actually could care less about the Girl Scouts. The cookies....well yes. Those were clearly sent by Satan. But the Girl Scouts't bother me, I won't bother you. And actually if Little A wanted to, I'd let her try it out and pray every night that she saw the light just so it wouldn't become that thing that I wouldn't let her do. I'd rather have her resent me over something a little more meaningful that the young republicans Girl Scouts when the resentment rolls in.

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

30 year nostalgia

I have a confession to make.

I could give a rat's ass about birthdays. Seriously. And having a March birthday my whole life only has cemented my general humdrum attitude about them. It's damn cold up here in New England in March. And I'm usually sick.

But I'm not sick today. I just have a big honkin' zit. And that seems to be better than usual.

N woke me up at 2 AM to sing Happy Birthday and give me a Disney (no joke) card and tulips. It was sweet. Odd timing, to be sure. But tulips are some of my favorite flowers, so it was a much appreciated gesture.

Because that's the thing about birthdays. I really could care less about them, BUT I want everyone else to think that my birthday is like the most important day of the year. This is totally reasonable, right?

And while I'm at it, I really think it should be a federal law that all people get a paid holiday on their birthday.

So, since I'm stuck at work anyway, I thought maybe birthday time would be the perfect time to share with you my favorite old childhood books, since I get all remininscy around birthdays anyway. The books that almost make me tear-up just seeing the cover. The books that I would make my mom read over and over and over.

I was always a sucker for books like this:

Especially when they had pages like this at the beginning:

I loved Mr. Wiggins, even though he's pretty politically incorrect.

And I always wanted to know why Kim couldn't get two puppies for the two kittens. Especially since they were the cutest ones.

I hated Millicent May. She's a brat who did not deserve a kitten.

And I always wanted this to be the last page:

Because I thought that this one was gratuitous (thought I didn't know that word) and insulted my intelligence:

This books made me want a menagerie on a nightly basis. I lost my copy, but then found this one at a yard sale years later. I was so completely over joyed.

For the longest time, I never knew that this wasn't the Corduroy book:

That's a picture of my own frail copy. The pages slip through your fingers when you pick it up and it still smells of childhood. I always thought it was a little weird that a dryer would give an artist such enthusiastic inspiration. Had he never done laundry before?

This page always made me yearn for winter:

And this one would nearly make me cry (I was an emotional one, ok? Yeah...was....we're going with WAS today.)

And who doesn't love:

But to be honest, this scared me:This freaked me out:And this insulted my intelligence (again....I'm so smart you see.)

But Mr. Rey made up for it all with this:I considered this turn in the story to be valuable information on life skills and thought I would definitely try to utilize this option when thrown into jail. (And I liked the cat on the prison roof because you can't have a prison without a cat on the roof.)

I love all Francis books, and listened to my record of a Bargain for Frances over and over again. This is another that's falling apart from being carried around with me forever:

I love this book more than I can tell you and have tunes for singing all of Francis' songs. I thought running away to under the dining room table was brilliant and comforting and set up camp underneath our own on several occasions:

This book was a constant favorite, and I always felt like it was a special treat when I would get my mom to read it to me:

I loved how Harold could just create his own world:He could draw himself a journey:

And complete change during it. You all have no idea how I would long for that magical purple crayon:

But the thing I found most comforting was that he could return home, feeling warm and cozy whenever he wanted to:

This book is a book that I had totally forgotten. Somehow it must've been lost among my parent's moves. One warm day I was sorting through a stack of books at a yard sale, trying to find something good and new for Little A. What I found was this:I cannot even tell you how the sight of this cover transported me backwards in time. I couldn't even open it at first. I just sat on the grass, completely transfixed as all the feelings this book gave me washed over me. The vision of the tiny house made me feel safe, like the walls were built by guardian angels.

When the little house gets over run by the city, I felt like I was the little house, always getting buried in other people's plans. And when they move the house:

I felt so scared for the little house. I didn't want it to be alone. But I also loved the idea of taking your home with you. And after this book came into my life, I would daydream of taking our house with us everytime we would be getting ready to move. Having some sort of safety net and a place where everything was just as it should be.

I could've spent hours looking into that picture.

Monday, March 20, 2006


Contrary to popular belief, I am not dead. Just busy and exhausted. Planning posts, but never getting time to write. It's a little on the annoying side.

And I didn't even get a chance to thank you all for your insightful comments from the last post. So thank you!

Today is the last day of my 20's. Yup, I'm ending a decade when I go to sleep tonight. It's all good, I suppose. Besides the fact that I feel way too immature to be thirty. Shouldn't I have accomplished something by now?

But I can mostly blame my lack of resume driving accomplishments on the Little A detour. And she's turning out quite well, so we'll end the piss session before it starts because I got the best out of the deal.

I promise a good post tomorrow. And 30 year olds keep their promises, right? Or something?

Need sleep. Desperately.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Nicey Nice

"She considers it a part of her moral code to be nice and kind to everyone."

This phrase came floating into my world a couple of weeks ago, via Roo, and its stuck it the forefront of my mind ever since. My first reaction was "Wow, that must be hard." And then, "That's really good. That would be a really good way to be." It stuck on that note for a long time and kept me wondering.

It is not a part of my moral code to be nice and kind to everyone. To not be cruel to anyone, yes, but to be kind to everyone? Nope. I try to be kind to my friends, family, and the like, but everyone

I'm sort of an isolationist when it comes to everyone. Leave me alone and I'll leave you alone. I appreciate the northeast because the pressure to chat it up with every living soul is minimal. I don't have to hear about the entire day of my cashier, nor do I have to spill my guts to her. If I'm having a day where I don't want to say anything at all besides "thanks", that's a-okay. I like that, even though it may be a little whacked.

But even with that, I'm usually on the more kind end of the spectrum than not with the anonymous people that I encounter. But then there's the other people. The people who are just truly difficult to be kind toward. People who are cruel, people who think little of anyone but themselves, people who cheat, lie, etc... I find it extremely difficult to be kind to these people.

On the one hand, my brain says, "Why not? Is it really going to hurt you to be kind to these people? Will it really take anything away from your life to do this? Come's just a little dose of kindness." That thought process quickly ends, for many reasons.

I cannot be kind or even warm to someone who I know is an ass hole, to someone who I know is hurting someone who doesn't deserve to be hurt. I cannot be kind to someone who has hurt me, especially if I know (sure, suspect) that they would gladly do it again. Hell, I can rarely even be kind when a driver waits to long to go after the light turns green. And normally, I'm okay with this. I'm not a pretender and I consider it to be part of my moral code to not be ingenuine. But knowing that there are people out there who would be kind to all of these people, who would be able to rise above all of that and pull off some kindness makes me feel.......lesser.....petty....and just generally like a bad person.

I encounter someone, daily, who is a perfect example. I think he's a horrible person who doesn't give a shit about anyone or anything that doesn't give him some cha-ching in his wallet. Oh wait, I don't just think that, he's said that. And I find it pretty impossible to be kind to him. I can be cordial, at best, but my loathing really overflows into my everyday actions/attitude toward him. Part of me feels bad about that. Part of me thinks its okay because it's like a tiny little personal protest. "If you're an ass hole, you don't get any kindness from me. Shape up, buddy!" But, we (yes, all of us in my head) are a little skeptical that this would have any effect at all, much less the desired one. And the sweet minority in my head says, "Kindness heals...maybe he'll be a better person if he gets some kindness." And the outraged majority in my head says, "Right. Tried that. No deal."

The bottom line is that I'm not going to change anyone with kindness or with snark. So that whole paragraph above? You just wasted a few seconds of your life there. But maybe I would feel better being more kind, maybe I'd feel more.....I dunno. More open? Happy? Like a better person? I don't know. Going out of my way to be kind to assholes really makes me feel conflicted. Really makes me feel like I'm giving the green light to some bad shit.

So, though I've been thinking daily, "I really should be more kind to everyone," I really haven't gotten too far with it.

What do you guys think?

Friday, March 10, 2006

One of THOSE weeks.

I hear that's it's been one of those weeks for a lot of folks, in the blogosphere and out. And I have a miraculous remedy for just such a thing.

We've all seen Chocolat, right? And wiped the drool from our chins when Juliette Binoche pours the hot chocolate into the cup, right? And then tried to satisfy ourselves with some piss poor powdered "hot chocolate"? If you answered yes to all of these questions (you get a bonus point for the aforementioned week), you need this. (I'm guessing even is you didn't answer yes to those questions, you could use a dose of this.)

Take about 1/2 cup Dark Chocolate chips (Ghiradelli makes NICE ones) and throw them into a small saucepan. Add about 2 TBSPs of milk chocolate chips. Add enough half and half to just cover the chips. Melt slowly while whisking constantly. When it's all uniformly delicious, stir in a pinch of chili powder. Top with a little whipped cream, if you're into that (who isn't into THAT?).

And finally know what they mean when they say that chocolate produces the same chemicals as an orgasm.

Seriously. Try it.

And (I forgot, sorry!) since I was finally able to give Roo her Christmas gift, I can finally show it here:

And the rest:

If your wondering what the hell it is, it's a spiral scarf. And it looked fabulous on her! :)

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

And now your lovely comments.

With responses that are way too long....

Tink said...
You can't protect her. PREPARE her. You're a wonderful Mom. Your love and fear for her shows that.

mama_tulip said... Wow. I was *just* thinking about this the other day. I used to be totally fearless and now...not so much. For me, a lot of it had to do with my mom's death. I felt so vulnerable after that. Before I felt like nothing could pierce me, and after she died I felt almost like a sitting duck. And after I had Julia I really felt it.But, to echo Tink, I feel like all I can do is prepare Julia, and Olvier. And myself. I try to love every second of the day with them and to live in the 'now', although it is hard sometimes.

Peevish said... I don't have kids (not sure about that whole thing yet) but I have an idea how you're feeling. When I started going out with my husband, he was still recovering from a nasty relationship years earlier. When he first told me he loved me, I freaked. I suddenly realized how much his happiness depended on me, and how much I could hurt him if I did something wrong. Eleven years later, we're still here and going strong. You can do this - and I agree with Tink - prepare, because you can't protect.

Rationally, I totally agree. Emotionally, I get a little worked up about the whole preparation issue. So far, the prep work has been in the way of "Don't leave my sight, and if you can't see mommy, or daddy, or someone you know...stay put and find a woman to help you find us." The die-hard I'm-feel-like-I-am-scarring-you is imminent.

A lot of this was precipitated by a conversation that I had with Little A last Saturday morning. We were taking a speedy trip to Target to get her little friend a birthday gift. I had to drop her off at her dad's early to get to Roo's on time, and I wanted also to pick up something for Roo's mom, so I kept pressing upon Little A about how we must be really quick in the store. (We all know of the Target black-hole, right? I'll just get one little forward...3 hours and $234.56) What comes next?

Little A: Well mommy, I know where the toy part is, and you know where to go to get your thing, so I'll just meet you back at the front of the store.

Mom: (Deep breath) Umm, nooooooo. Thanks for being so thoughtful honey, but you're a little too young to go off in a big place like Target alone. We'll be fine, we'll just walk fast.

Little A: But I know where it is. I can do it.

Mom: (Inhale starting to freak out here). That might be true, but it's not just about you.

Little A: Mommy, I can do it.

Mom: Listen Little A, it's not safe for you to go wandering around a big place like that alone because sometimes there are other grown-ups who aren't really that nice hanging around, and if they saw a sweet little girl like you, they might try to do something that's not nice.

Little A: Everybody is nice to me.

Mom: I know it seems like that, and most people are really nice, but sometimes they aren't and it's hard to tell and that's why you need to hang around with a grown-up like me or daddy or N, etc...

Little A: But everybody is nice to me. And if somebody tried to do something mean, I'd just kick them.

Mom: (feeling somewhat panicked at the thought of Little A's scenario) Little A, this is not the Powerpuff girls. If a grown-up wanted to do something bad to you, they could, if you were alone. They could take you, kidnap you, and there really wouldn't be much you could do about it. End of story. You are not old enough to go off alone in a store. I'm not trying to be mean, I'm just trying to keep you safe because I love you.

(This conversation went on like this for quite a while, but I'm giving you the abridged version.)

Little A: (grumbles) I could still do it.

Mom: But you WON'T. EVER. Until you are older and I say it's ok, right???

Little A: Fine....I won't.

So it freaked me out a LITTLE. She's SO trusting and so fearless. Which emotionally, I'm happy about. I want her to feel safe and trusting. It's one of the saddest things to me that Little A (and kids in general) don't feel the kind of safety I felt when I was little. I could run through the neighborhood with very little care.

"Don't cross streets." That was my mom's biggest concern about me playing with my little friends out and about. Cars. Not pedofiles, kidnappers, and murderers. Cars. Pretty easy to avoid those cars when compared with what we've got now. I even remember this sort of public/family safety you? A kid runs into the street after a bouncing ball and gets run over and the announcer peals a flattened rubber picture off the pavement and advises you to not let this kid be yours. I can't imagine even what an equivalent commercial would be like now.

But like I said, it kills me that she'll never feel that level of safety, and I think it's gonna have some baaaad repercussions on her generation. Innocence, to me, is so important in being able to develop trust. It may be the most important thing. Because if you can't even remember that feeling....that feeling of absolute ease, comfort and safety, how will you be able to recognize it and develop it when you are older and trying to navigate yourself through every different kind of relationship that you can imagine. I feel like scaring her too much is damning her to a life where she'll always feel sort of alone and not quite connected.

So, balancing all of that with the absolute need to prepare her gets tricky.

When I was relaying the whole story to Roo, she suggested some fairy tale therapy, pointing out that there is a reason that fairy takes are scary. I said, "Fairy tales aren't scary anymore. They've niced them all up. It sucks." And we concluded that it might be time to open up a can of Hans Christian Anderson on her ass. "Kids who wander off in the woods might get eaten by a witch....or a wolf..." Kids who take a treat from a seemingly kindly old woman might die.... Sure, its just a story, but wonder about that story the next time you want to wander Target, ok??? I don't want to tell her the real nuts and bolts. I don't want her to learn the word molester at the age of seven. I just want her to have the proper amount of fear, and a few choice tactics for if she's ever in danger.

TB said...
Whew. This is a tough one for me. Even though I don't have children yet, I think I see where you're coming from with this post. It's the thing I worry the most about when I think about having a child of my own - being always afraid for them and not being able to move past it. I think that there's a delicate balance we have to walk between healthy fear and neurosis. Because of the way you are examining it, looking at how motherhood has changed you in this way, I am positive that you are beautifully posisitioned on that tightrope and that you will teach your daughter to be as fearless as you were and as you are now.

Iamadesigner said... I don't have kids either although I can relate to fear in a big way. For me it comes in waves that are sometimes overwhelming in such a way that I can't see how I will ever live any differently. I think it is courageous of you to acknowledge your fears-hang in there.

Thanks Teebs and Iamadesigner (I always see your name as Lama know that's not how you spell Llama, but it still makes me giggle :) ). That damn balance, always coming to bite me in the arse! But you will move past it, or at least function within it. He/she will make sure you function with it. And I guess that's the best balance we can hope for.

Kristen said...
I was always a fearful thinker (I'll die young, never have kids, blabla) and now I'm still alive and I have kid. Not much has changed - honestly, I just now fear that she'll die or I'll die and not get to see her grow up.I can't really think about it - or about if anything would happen to her (like the poor parents of Natalee Hollaway, and others like her) - because I'm not sure I could go on living - at least in the emotional sense, anyway.

Nancy said... I think you are absolutely a brave person to look at your fear this way, V. And I can understand -- I feel like I could live through almost anything, but if something were to happen to one of my kids, I don't know if I could continue on in life. It's amazing that parenthood requires such a level of trust and letting go, every day -- when I drop my kids off at day care every morning, I have to trust that they will be safe and secure without me, that they will be protected. It is a major leap of faith and sometimes it's terrifying.You are an amazing mom because you care. That fear represents your deep love for Little A. Also, I am jealous that you and Roo got to hang. But I'm happy for both of you that you did.

It's amazing what they do for self-preservation, isn't it? I mean I was never all out suicidal, but questioning defintely. Now it's just nonsense. I could never do anything that might leave Little A motherless. And yeah, if something ever happened to her.... That's where that sentence always ends for me. There's just nothing after it.

Brooke said...
I feel like a fraud to say I understand. But can I say I care?

You bet. And you are NO fraud. You're so caring and ready...don't sell yourself short.

Dawn said...
I think you have defined what is at the heart of parenting. Fear and Love. Back to Back, Day in and Day out. And yes, People will hurt her, and she will come back to you for healing. You will patch her up and send her back out- cause that is what Mom's do.Then we take hot bath and cry.

Word. I've got me some pretty free flowing tear ducts over here. I feel like it's really my only hope...showing her that she can always and should always come to me. I'm so trying to get her in the habit of talking to me before she hits sullen teenagerville. Crossing my fingers everyday that it will work/help.

Brooke said...
Sending hugs, V. Examining your fears is very brave.

Chris said...

Thanks. Endless support is always welcome. ;)

roo said...
V, I love little A, and you. And my faith in your parenting abilities is unshakeable.

Thanks roo. We love you too. :) Could I have a toke on that unshakeable faith?

Monday, March 06, 2006

The Prologue to Fear

This one is going to take a couple of days, for both emotional and time reasons. I've been thinking about fear a lot lately. And when I think about fear, I tend to get really resentful, ragingly pissed off, and really, really sad.

I used to be a pretty fearless girl. Besides heights I'm not sure how to get down from (other heights are fine...but I doubt I'll ever be a rock climber), stage/performances, and birds pecking out my eyes, all of which I could avoid quite easily, I was pretty fearless.

I was the type of girl who would walk at night because I believed that I should walk at night. Because if normal people like me didn't take strolls in the darkness, the darkness would become more and more scary. No one could stop me.

I wasn't the type of girl that would choose my word's with extreme care around friends and family. I just said what I meant.

I wasn't the type of girl who bothered to lie, even if to protect someone. Though I still generally don't lie because apparently my lies are not engaging enough for even me to remember, it creeps in more now than it used to.

I was the type of girl who saw obstacles and just plowed right through them because I felt that there was nothing else to do. While Roo was here this weekend, she told me that she had always thought that maybe I was sort of deeply wanting to have a baby when I had my little mishap that gave me Little A...just because of how I took it and ran. I was automatically Little A's mom. End of story, have a nice day.

I can totally see how she would think it. But it was just what I did. "Oh crap! I'm pregnant. Well let's see, I'll have to x, y, and z. There, all set." In reality, it was a time in my life that I was questioning whether I ever wanted to have kids. I loved kids, but I just wasn't sure the whole mommy-thing was for me. When faced with eminent kid, I just did what I thought I should do.

I went where I went and I did what I needed to do.

That's the person I used to be. And sometimes I still am. On a daily gotta-get-things-done-level, I still just sort of go on without much consideration to any possible ill effects it could have on me. Being a sucker, taking on too much is still nothing to fear in my book.

But, the walks at night. Being with people I can't completely trust. Being completely frank. Going to areas I don't know....

I've changed. And I know why (for the most part), but knowing why doesn't keep me from being angry at myself, and from feeling like I'm weaker than I used to be.

My strength is now somewhere else. It's completely and totally invested in keeping Little A safe and happy. And because of that, there is a huge part of me that lives in terror. The worst terror...that maybe I'll fail at this most important task. That no matter what I do, my Little A will someday get hurt by someone. And this fear breaks me down so totally and completely that I feel helpless. Especially because I know it's no false fear. Someday, someone will hurt her....emotionally, one lives without these things happening, and that knowledge totally paralyzes my mind and my heart with sorrow and a fear that I never knew before.

There's so much more, but these fear thoughts exhaust me. So, that's it for today. Sorry for the abrupt ending.

Friday, March 03, 2006

Old. Witchy. Knitter.

A whole heap of nonsense for your time wasting on a Friday afternoon reading enjoyment.

Oh me achin' bones

I am officially an old lady. You may think this odd, since I'm still a few weeks from my 30th birthday, but its true. This morning, as the fucking cat meowed me into consciousness and I took a much needed stretch and a yawn while still nestled warmly underneath the covers, I pulled a muscle. That's right, I'm now so incredibly feeble that a morning stretch, while still horizontal (and sadly not in any fun way) can knock me down. Luckily I was already down. But that didn't prevent the excruciating pain of my calf trying to contort itself into a full-blown cow right before my very eyes. After my eyes stopped watering and I had rubbed the bastard down into a dull ache, I limped my way through my morning routine to work. I'm sending my membership fee to AARP as we speak.

Remiss in my duties

I guess with a blog title like "Spells with..." I really should've been a little more prepared to offer some spells. And apparently not the type of spells that I'm a little more adept at offering such as "Get some yarn. Wrap it around some pointy sticks over and over again. Chant these magic words 'Knit, one, two, three, I'm counting....shhhhhh! Ok, one, two, three, four, cable, Yes when I'm done with the row!' Chant them over and over again and sweater shall appear." Sadly, it seems that more people come here searching for many other types of spells as well as a few things that I don't even understand. I will try to oblige. I wouldn't want anyone to be disappointed.

For those of you looking for:

"free cursing spells" - I'm no expert here, but I'm pretty sure if you take a pre-teen, simmer with hormones and exposure to pop culture, add some select letters ("U" is imperative, many others are optional), you will have all the cursing that you need.

"return my lover spells" - Try the Pet cemetery approach. It will either return your lover or squelch your desire to have him/her returned.

"fuck spells" - Well! Now this one has many, many possibilities depending on the quality or quantity of fuck that you want. Here are a few to get you started. For further info, please send 3087 installments of $29.95 to my secret P.O. box.

#1: Go to bar. Any bar. Most potent are those with the words "trough, spitoon, or pit." Rub your booty against first human-type that you see.

#2: Mix break-away clothes with dance competition. Simmer.

#3: Take 3 gallons cologne/perfume, mix with 2 gallons vodka. Stir. This may not always yield desired results, but you won't remember whether or not it did. Think positive.

"forgetting spells" - Just wait. You'll start forgetting soon enough. I can't even remember what this post was supposed to be about.

"spells to get a positive pregnancy test" - See "fuck spells". Renounce anything made of latex before engaging in "fuck spells".

And for the one person looking for "trapped in armpit gay smell", I'm not quite sure what you're looking for in life, but I'm thinking deodorant might be a little more necessary than any spell I could give you.

The Victory Lap

Stay tuned. Somehow I managed to knit myself another sweater for L's little tike who turned 1 this past Saturday. I'll post a picture in a couple of hours.... batteries are dead. Poop. I guess this will have to wait until Monday.

Thursday, March 02, 2006

To suck, or not to suck?

Ok, you, you, you, and you sniggering behind your coffee...ALL of you get your heads out of the gutters. This is sadly not one of those kinds of posts.

Here's the thing. I am a sucker. (For the two of you still chortling....still NOT what I'm talking about.) If someone asks me to do something, I will almost always say "yes". Even if it is a gigund-o pain in the arse, I will still usually say yes. If it's possible, I'll probably do it. This sometimes has a fun affect on may have seen me at some point, running around like some pyschotic errand machine? I probably cursed and you on the road, remember now?

This has always been a little difficult for me. I wonder if I'm too wishy-washy. I wonder if I'm giving too much. I wonder if I am doing no woman a favor by doing exactly as woman should in the eyes of Santa Claus. And sometimes, then I try to be a little more selective in my yessing. But it never feels right. It feels like I'm no-ing, just to be petty, just for the sake of being mean. And I start to think things like, "Well, if everyone did whatever they could for everyone else, then this would be one gawd damn happy schmappy world. And I'd like to be one of those everyones." Then I start yessing again until I'm cursing you on the road because I've got 514 errands to run in the 20 minutes before I need to get to the school and pick up Little A.

L's a sucker too and so we've talked about this on many, many occasions. We talk in circles, worrying about being taken advantage of, feeling somewhat resentful that there aren't hoards of people in our lives yessing us to death, feeling like bad feminists, feeling like we're nice, good people, and so on and so on. And in the end we always say the same thing, "I'd rather be good, and know that I was good, and be taken advantage of than know that I'm an ass hole, even if that keeps me safe from using losers." But somehow, it doesn't always feel balanced.

Where do you all stand on this one?

Great minds think in cables.....

If you popped in yesterday, you know that I had a pattern for Fingerless gloves published over at Later in the day, I found out that there is another free pattern out there for gloves that are very similar to mine but with really nice work to separate the fingers. The pattern is great and if you prefer this option you should definitely head over to Natalya and check them out. Savannahchik has a fabulous blog with beautiful pictures, great designs, and though I've had all of two seconds of contact with her, seems to be my kind of knitter (read: cool, kind, funky and waaaaay talented). Check her out!

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Insert happy thoughts here:

Ok, February is over. And so is the biggest fight of this year in my parts.

This morning I realized that this was up. Wooo-hoo!

And I get one of these!

Let's have a big whoooppeee for the Harlot who hosted this ridiculous wonderful event!

Have to work. Be back soon.
Please disregard piss of yestermonth for now, ok? We'll get back to it later. :)