Taking the Plunge

Heather wrote a great post about taking the plunge.

The dress is Heather's from years ago. Now if this dress isn't enough to make someone want to take the plunge, I don't know what is. When grown-up, responsible people are looking for reasons to start a family, I think cute baby clothes is as good a reason as anything. Being a mother is surreal and nonsensical, crazy good and crazy bad; so why not let fashion inspire the leap of faith into the pool of motherhood?

The dress awaits the next family or friend who takes the plunge. It's yours again, if you want it, Heather.

Is someone trying to tell me something?

All my Bloglines feeds have vanished — all 600 of them! The clippings, too. Gone. I think someone's trying to keep me working, instead of vegging out, which is what I want to do right now. I'm already tired of Christmas.

This morning, one hour into school holiday, my oldest was crying and digging himself into a very dark place. I was trying to explain to him how to make a potato stamp. He does *not* want me to teach him. I don't even know if I can explain all he's feeling. He's tired, filled with anticipation, not sure if he'll like what he gets — the unknown factor doesn't sit well with him. I don't think he needs surprises. He's happily watching me knit him a scarf, watching the color changes.

The other day he told me he wanted me to be mad at him so that he could do what he wanted, which was something like hitting me or running away. I never got mad at him that day. It was really interesting to watch him process his feelings. Mad, sad, mad, sad. Food helped. A visit with grandpa turned everything around. At the end of the day I'm was totally wiped out. Tired. Too tired for holiday spirit.

Anyone else riding the emotional crazy train with their kids right now? I find the holiday season completely overstimulating. Where's the balance? How can I make it better for my children? For me? I used to think holidays with kids would be the funnest. Now I just think they are hard.

Would you trust me with your children?

When I'm not wearing cute handmade skirts, you might find me wearing something like in the photo above. As I was getting ready for my work day at our co-op preschool I thought how funny I looked, especially in contrast to my glamorous sister. But, each thing I wore was chosen with care. You have to dress just right to survive another day of positive discipline, conflict resolution, and healthful snack making.

Let's start at the top:

My hair is pinned back because it's getting a little out of control. I only schedule my hair appointments for every seven or eight weeks. Six weeks would be better, but getting childcare is such a hassle that I push it out, probably getting one less haircut a year — saves me some money, too.

I put on my Miraculous Medal of Mary recently to gather up as much good mama juju as possible while I wait for the little guy's sedation dental work appointment. Blaize got me the original medal when I was pregnant with my first, and, a second for the second. It's blue and pretty and makes me feel good. My doula, Mary, got a matching one and that makes me feel good, too — double Mary goodness. I'm not Catholic, or, ever been Catholic, but sometimes people have said I "look Catholic." I figure Mary doesn't care.

Black clothes. I used to wear black almost everyday. It was a good designer uniform and pretty much matched my mood. Now, I'm drawn to colors. I think it's because I hang out with kids. But, some days you just have to wear black — layers of it.

Black crochet purse. It's made of polypropelene and it's nearly indestructible, just don't drink out of it. It was a hand-me-down, so I'm counting it as a green-non-green situation.

Maternity yoga pants still have a place in my wardrobe. While I've only been accused of being pregnant once since my last birth, I'm counting that as an improvement, since I was asked twice after my first birth. I guess it's time to start exercising.

The Best Boots Evah came from a garage sale long ago. They're vintage with a short cut, not sure what you call that. They've molded to my foot just right. I love them.

That's it — my uniform for surviving small children.

Unknown Me

Take photos of weird hat for online posterity. Contemplate aging and losing oneself while parenting.


Include kids to distract from unknown self.


Concentrate on kids — they demand it.


Let baby take photo. Find self through other's eyes.

Cold Turkey

Notice anything missing? I packed up the 200 or so kid videos and DVDs that my mom had acquired in the last five years — they were sitting in front of the books. We're going cold turkey and it's working out just fine. Boy, am I surprised.

This also explains my absence from posting. I'm still making stuff, just don't have the same amount of screen time to publish. We're also moving out to the granny unit, so things are a bit chaotic. The move is tempting me to sell off a bunch of stuff (supplies and old craft stock), so keep your eyes peeled for some sort of shop or something.

Thanks to all the lurkers who invited me to visit their blogs. Anyone else? I love finding new crafty folks.

Don't Go Into the Light: A Valentine Confession

Valentine from 2003
Originally uploaded by Green Kitchen.

I, too, am a holiday cynic...sort of. I liked Craftapalooza's truth hurts view of Valentine's Day. We share the same candy heart message of "Get Real." And, I'm dying to give someone the "You say potato, I say you look like one" card (and this coming from a pregnant woman). As you can see by the photo in my very first post, I love cynical holiday as a craft theme.

Having said that, I'm posting this photo to show my other side -- not the secret dark side, oh, that's around all the time, but the forbidden lighter side. It can happen to anyone. One day you have a kid and -- WHAMO! -- somehow you're not so cynical. Someone who was once known as Grumpelstiltzkin ends up spending hours taking photos and manipulating them to turn their child into a cupid. You might even find yourself getting weepy as you make a simple Valentine at preschool.

I'm not saying one way or the other is better, but, rather, to be authentic in your feelings and rituals that make up your holidays, be they dark or light.