So instead, you get to look at cute pictures. Because I feel too crummy to knit.
Tessa and her favorite kitty stuffies.
Reading her favorite series.
Cuddling her favorite kitty.
Sleepy Brynnie.
Oooo, a sunbeam.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Ugh.
The stomach "flu" of whatever variety is circling around Jackson, and I'm here to tell you, it sucks.
So instead, you get to look at cute pictures. Because I feel too crummy to knit.
So instead, you get to look at cute pictures. Because I feel too crummy to knit.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Bullies
I dreamed of a bully last night.
She didn't look like a bully, with her angelic blonde curls and big blue eyes. And all the grown-ups thought she was just swell. But from my earliest memories until the last time I saw her in adulthood, she was always a bully to me.
We had the misfortune of crossing paths in many aspects of our lives, affording her plenty of opportunity to cut me down. I can remember specific instances of having my fingers stomped, being pushed down, all the physical signs of bullying. As she got older she became more cunning, and would cut me with words at every opportunity. When we were elementary aged, she told her friends that they couldn't be friends with me, and they listened..."We'll hang out now, but when ___ gets here, we're going to have to go with her..." In middle school, she told me I couldn't sing with all the other girls in the class as we said goodbye to a classmate "because you haven't been at this school that long and don't know her as well as we do..." Never mind that the one student who came into the class AFTER me was allowed....
High school was a little better, but only in that we didn't run in the same circles. I was still reluctant to make friends with "her" friends, and I think anyone new coming into our class may not have known that was the lay of the land, and probably just thought me shy. _____ took in those she deemed "cool," and I was clearly not one of them. By this time I'd learned to ignore her shenanigans for the most part. And of course she was the sentimental type when it came to leaving high school--while I couldn't wait to leave it behind and get my life started, she was in tears over it and even "apologized" for "not making my life easy." As if that made her the bigger person.
In adulthood we've only crossed paths once or twice, and both those times she's looked at me as though I were emitting a foul odor. But I have a different perspective now. I'm no longer the mousy little girl with her nose in a book who couldn't stand up for herself. I'm well-educated, employed in a job I love, married to a man I adore and have a wonderful kid, who is the absolute opposite of my childhood bully. Tessa is a peacemaker, when she sees bullying happening, she calls a person out on it, and when friends argue, she tries to mend the fences. She isn't a bully-er, but neither does she allow herself to be bullied, the way I did.
I'm confidant now that if I crossed paths with that bully, I'd be able to hold my own. But in my dreams, I'm 8 years old again, and she's getting the better of me.
She didn't look like a bully, with her angelic blonde curls and big blue eyes. And all the grown-ups thought she was just swell. But from my earliest memories until the last time I saw her in adulthood, she was always a bully to me.
We had the misfortune of crossing paths in many aspects of our lives, affording her plenty of opportunity to cut me down. I can remember specific instances of having my fingers stomped, being pushed down, all the physical signs of bullying. As she got older she became more cunning, and would cut me with words at every opportunity. When we were elementary aged, she told her friends that they couldn't be friends with me, and they listened..."We'll hang out now, but when ___ gets here, we're going to have to go with her..." In middle school, she told me I couldn't sing with all the other girls in the class as we said goodbye to a classmate "because you haven't been at this school that long and don't know her as well as we do..." Never mind that the one student who came into the class AFTER me was allowed....
High school was a little better, but only in that we didn't run in the same circles. I was still reluctant to make friends with "her" friends, and I think anyone new coming into our class may not have known that was the lay of the land, and probably just thought me shy. _____ took in those she deemed "cool," and I was clearly not one of them. By this time I'd learned to ignore her shenanigans for the most part. And of course she was the sentimental type when it came to leaving high school--while I couldn't wait to leave it behind and get my life started, she was in tears over it and even "apologized" for "not making my life easy." As if that made her the bigger person.
In adulthood we've only crossed paths once or twice, and both those times she's looked at me as though I were emitting a foul odor. But I have a different perspective now. I'm no longer the mousy little girl with her nose in a book who couldn't stand up for herself. I'm well-educated, employed in a job I love, married to a man I adore and have a wonderful kid, who is the absolute opposite of my childhood bully. Tessa is a peacemaker, when she sees bullying happening, she calls a person out on it, and when friends argue, she tries to mend the fences. She isn't a bully-er, but neither does she allow herself to be bullied, the way I did.
I'm confidant now that if I crossed paths with that bully, I'd be able to hold my own. But in my dreams, I'm 8 years old again, and she's getting the better of me.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
It's a Heartache
It's been a sad few days in our community. There was a fatal crash in which an acquaintance in my "outer circle" (sheer fluke we hadn't met, we know about 30 of the same people) was killed & her unborn baby delivered not breathing. The baby was resuscitated but has thus far shown very little brain activity. She is going in for a (possibly final) EEG even now, and if there is no improvement, her father has elected to end life support.
Of course not only is this in the paper but it's also ALL OVER facebook & on his blog. The outpouring of support has been amazing. Someone started a "praying for Miranda" group on facebook, and today it grew from 3000 when I "joined" at 8 a.m. to over 14,500 people (at the time of this writing) leaving prayers & positivity. Simply amazing.
But then there are always "trolls"--those who go looking to bash/provide negativity. There are those in response to the newspaper articles, commenting things like "don't turn off the life support," as if the father came to that decision lightly, and "she could have been saved if they'd done a c-section in the field," as if they were on the frontlines and knew the situation. It's easy to let jerks like that get under your skin.
Things aren’t looking good for baby Miranda, but I am certain that the 14,500+ people who’ve joined the “praying for Miranda” group in the last 24 hours are lifting her family’s hearts.
For the record, when I say “pray for” someone, I only mean thinking positively about them. And yet there are 843 responses of “not attending” the event. WTF??? Come on, even my atheist husband knows that when someone asks for prayer, he may not actually pray to a deity he doesn’t believe in, but he sure does feel hopeful for them. And really, isn’t that the point? Why would you throw out the negativity of “not attending”? That’s even worse than Ravelry's “disagree” button in my opinion, which, as my friend Jennie pointed out, can be used for good. “Not Attending,” to my mind, conveys “not only do I not care for my fellow man, but I am also offended because apparently I’m unable to think outside the religious box and spare a positive thought for another human being.” If you don’t want to “attend,” then dismiss the event without answering. No one is making you click that button.
I don’t care what your religion is. I’m a co-exsist person myself who happens to be a Christian. I am very, very open to whatever it is in your life you follow, even if it’s simply your own heart & intuition. Hell, I’m married to an atheist, and I’ve friends of practically every mainstream following in the US, from Wiccan to Mormon to Muslim & everything between. It really isn’t that big a deal for me.
I’m not trying to force “prayer” or any other walk of life on anyone, and am open to whatever. I just believe this little girl’s family needs all the positivity they can get right now.
And if you have a problem with that...well...as my friend Audrey says, go play with some yarn.
Of course not only is this in the paper but it's also ALL OVER facebook & on his blog. The outpouring of support has been amazing. Someone started a "praying for Miranda" group on facebook, and today it grew from 3000 when I "joined" at 8 a.m. to over 14,500 people (at the time of this writing) leaving prayers & positivity. Simply amazing.
But then there are always "trolls"--those who go looking to bash/provide negativity. There are those in response to the newspaper articles, commenting things like "don't turn off the life support," as if the father came to that decision lightly, and "she could have been saved if they'd done a c-section in the field," as if they were on the frontlines and knew the situation. It's easy to let jerks like that get under your skin.
Things aren’t looking good for baby Miranda, but I am certain that the 14,500+ people who’ve joined the “praying for Miranda” group in the last 24 hours are lifting her family’s hearts.
For the record, when I say “pray for” someone, I only mean thinking positively about them. And yet there are 843 responses of “not attending” the event. WTF??? Come on, even my atheist husband knows that when someone asks for prayer, he may not actually pray to a deity he doesn’t believe in, but he sure does feel hopeful for them. And really, isn’t that the point? Why would you throw out the negativity of “not attending”? That’s even worse than Ravelry's “disagree” button in my opinion, which, as my friend Jennie pointed out, can be used for good. “Not Attending,” to my mind, conveys “not only do I not care for my fellow man, but I am also offended because apparently I’m unable to think outside the religious box and spare a positive thought for another human being.” If you don’t want to “attend,” then dismiss the event without answering. No one is making you click that button.
I don’t care what your religion is. I’m a co-exsist person myself who happens to be a Christian. I am very, very open to whatever it is in your life you follow, even if it’s simply your own heart & intuition. Hell, I’m married to an atheist, and I’ve friends of practically every mainstream following in the US, from Wiccan to Mormon to Muslim & everything between. It really isn’t that big a deal for me.
I’m not trying to force “prayer” or any other walk of life on anyone, and am open to whatever. I just believe this little girl’s family needs all the positivity they can get right now.
And if you have a problem with that...well...as my friend Audrey says, go play with some yarn.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Does it Matter?
I find that I live in my head a lot. I realize a lot of people do, but I really *really* wish I shouldn't. And while Living in my Head sounds selfish, let me explain what I mean by it--I mean, I don't say a lot of what I think, and I think a lot, about other people.
I have this love/hate relationship with Facebook. I love that I can see what other people are doing, what they're saying, what's on their minds. But I hate that it matters *so* much when the people I'm closest to, or at least I think that I'm close to, don't seem to be close to me. And that *is* selfish. Because really, does it matter? It shouldn't. If someone doesn't see fit to tell me what's going on in their lives, that's their problem, not mine.
This is especially difficult when it's a family member. One would think that family would keep you in the loop, but most of mine rarely do. And that's really all right!! God knows I keep hardly any of them in the loop of what is going on with me. (Here's a hint--if you think you know--you probably don't. And if you do know, you're probably not related to me by blood or marriage.) Talk about a double standard.
So what do I do when the "being left out" begins to matter to me? I hide. So that is what I think I'll do with Facebook, yet again. Going offline more often (checking only once or twice a day) forces me to live regular life better. So here I go again, semi-off the grid. If you need me, call me, or email me, or post to the blog.
***
What am I knitting? I've actually moved on from the baby hats.
To a baby sweater.
I can stop whenever I want.
I have this love/hate relationship with Facebook. I love that I can see what other people are doing, what they're saying, what's on their minds. But I hate that it matters *so* much when the people I'm closest to, or at least I think that I'm close to, don't seem to be close to me. And that *is* selfish. Because really, does it matter? It shouldn't. If someone doesn't see fit to tell me what's going on in their lives, that's their problem, not mine.
This is especially difficult when it's a family member. One would think that family would keep you in the loop, but most of mine rarely do. And that's really all right!! God knows I keep hardly any of them in the loop of what is going on with me. (Here's a hint--if you think you know--you probably don't. And if you do know, you're probably not related to me by blood or marriage.) Talk about a double standard.
So what do I do when the "being left out" begins to matter to me? I hide. So that is what I think I'll do with Facebook, yet again. Going offline more often (checking only once or twice a day) forces me to live regular life better. So here I go again, semi-off the grid. If you need me, call me, or email me, or post to the blog.
***
What am I knitting? I've actually moved on from the baby hats.
To a baby sweater.
I can stop whenever I want.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Eggy face
Tessa had her first sleepover "party" (as in: more than one child) this weekend. It was in celebration of her 9th birthday at the beginning off the month. She had her two best friends, Alara & Jessa. Alara is Jeremy's friend Dave's kid, she's 7 and a little; Jessa lives in our building.
Alara, Jessa, & Tessa
They did pretty well together. All 3 are "only" children...Alara has older almost-step-siblings, and Jessa has a much younger sister....so as you can expect, there's some pretty strong personalities. I think Alara felt a little left out at times, just because the older two have such a nearly-unspoken rapport & are around one another constantly. But Tessa, ever the peacemaker, did a good job mediating when things did get tense. She chose activities they'd all have fun with, like playing Band Hero:
They call themselves "Past, Present, Future"....a girl band in the making...look out Bangles!
They watched some movies, snacked on pizza and stayed up til 10:45. The room was a disaster by the time they were done playing in the morning (I have a picture, but it's scary) but they had pancakes for breakfast and played some more. Both girls helped clean up before they went home.
Pancake breakfast!
It was fun, and exhausting, and we'll do it again....when I've forgotten how tiring 3 little girls can be!!
I will say this: it often amazes me, the maturity level and grace with which my daughter can conduct herself. In addition to her peacemaking skills, she also displayed the ability to compromise, to follow through with instructions, to be a good leader, and to be a good hostess. Before her guests arrived, and without prompting, she cleaned her room; set up places for her friends to sleep; created "goody bags" out of her own belongings (little erasers, silly bands, pencils, and the like); took a bath, and dressed up in a skirt "so I'll look nice & be a good hostess." She's an amazing kid.
And then she does something like today, when she got paint all over the counter, had to change her clothes 3 times because she got stuff on them, and wiped her egg-covered face on my hand-knitted couch throw. You know, I don't even really mind stuff like that. It's good to have the reminder that she is, after all, only 9, and she has a lot of growing up to do.
**************
I've moved on from knitting baby hats to knitting a baby sweater with no particular purpose in mind. But I've not gotten very far. Jeremy bought me Plants vs. Zombies for the xbox for my birthday (which is tomorrow), so I've been latching on to that like some sort of twitchy crack addict. I can only play a level or two at one sitting though because my eyes get tired. But it's very fun.
Alara, Jessa, & Tessa
They did pretty well together. All 3 are "only" children...Alara has older almost-step-siblings, and Jessa has a much younger sister....so as you can expect, there's some pretty strong personalities. I think Alara felt a little left out at times, just because the older two have such a nearly-unspoken rapport & are around one another constantly. But Tessa, ever the peacemaker, did a good job mediating when things did get tense. She chose activities they'd all have fun with, like playing Band Hero:
They call themselves "Past, Present, Future"....a girl band in the making...look out Bangles!
They watched some movies, snacked on pizza and stayed up til 10:45. The room was a disaster by the time they were done playing in the morning (I have a picture, but it's scary) but they had pancakes for breakfast and played some more. Both girls helped clean up before they went home.
Pancake breakfast!
It was fun, and exhausting, and we'll do it again....when I've forgotten how tiring 3 little girls can be!!
I will say this: it often amazes me, the maturity level and grace with which my daughter can conduct herself. In addition to her peacemaking skills, she also displayed the ability to compromise, to follow through with instructions, to be a good leader, and to be a good hostess. Before her guests arrived, and without prompting, she cleaned her room; set up places for her friends to sleep; created "goody bags" out of her own belongings (little erasers, silly bands, pencils, and the like); took a bath, and dressed up in a skirt "so I'll look nice & be a good hostess." She's an amazing kid.
And then she does something like today, when she got paint all over the counter, had to change her clothes 3 times because she got stuff on them, and wiped her egg-covered face on my hand-knitted couch throw. You know, I don't even really mind stuff like that. It's good to have the reminder that she is, after all, only 9, and she has a lot of growing up to do.
**************
I've moved on from knitting baby hats to knitting a baby sweater with no particular purpose in mind. But I've not gotten very far. Jeremy bought me Plants vs. Zombies for the xbox for my birthday (which is tomorrow), so I've been latching on to that like some sort of twitchy crack addict. I can only play a level or two at one sitting though because my eyes get tired. But it's very fun.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Inner Turmoil
An online friend is going through a rough time right now, and another friend was giving her some encouraging words. "His crazy actions are only a reflection of his own inner turmoil, not a reflection of you....."
How often do we do that? Take our own inner turmoil and project it onto our loved ones. Instead of realizing it's our own crap that needs dealing with, we start to take it out on those we love--she's not good enough, he's not following through, they need to get it together....
I know I do it, and I'm holding myself accountable. I'm trying to learn many lessons at once this year, but the biggest one is "when to keep my mouth shut." Too often I speak before I think, especially to fill a gap in conversation. I'm not perfect at it yet (really, who is?) but I acknowledge that I am working on it.
***
In other news...I knit two more baby hats.
Don't look at me like that.
How often do we do that? Take our own inner turmoil and project it onto our loved ones. Instead of realizing it's our own crap that needs dealing with, we start to take it out on those we love--she's not good enough, he's not following through, they need to get it together....
I know I do it, and I'm holding myself accountable. I'm trying to learn many lessons at once this year, but the biggest one is "when to keep my mouth shut." Too often I speak before I think, especially to fill a gap in conversation. I'm not perfect at it yet (really, who is?) but I acknowledge that I am working on it.
***
In other news...I knit two more baby hats.
Don't look at me like that.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Of Blogging and Babies
I forget I even have a blog. That's why it takes so long between posts. It's not that stuff doesn't happen, it's not that I don't think a lot of great stuff that should be written down (even if I'm the only one who ever gives a crap about it), it's just that...I honestly forget I have this forum. I'll try to get a little better at it.
Thankfully my camera is functioning the way cameras are supposed to again. I thought it might be the battery, and was given one as an early Christmas present. Well, that charged for forever and it still wasn't working. So I formatted the memory card. Well, I lost video from Tessa's talent show last spring (VERY sad about that) but hey presto...the camera worked again. So, that might help toward my blogging, because I can do stuff like this:
I'm on a baby hat knitting kick. It helps that there's been like, 3 baby boys born/about to be born in my immediate social circle, all this week. (Yes, I know one of those hats pictured above is pink & lacy, but that's for an in-kind trade I'm trying to arrange.) I'm currently working on the 4th one, another girl hat because I knit two blue in a row and needed a change. I'll get to that 3rd boy one next--it only takes me about 3 hours to knit a baby hat.
But the whys of the baby hats goes even deeper than prolific reproduction or bartering for services. It's therapy in a way. It's been a rough month, emotionally, for people I know, and since no man is an island, it's affected me too.
A few weeks ago I got the call no friend ever wants to get--a very dear friend of mine's baby died. She was just about halfway through her pregnancy, so that's truly what it was. All the hard stuff goes through your head--what an awful thing to happen, how sad, etc. etc. but add to that the pain of not being able to hold her, cry with her, really any of that stuff that you do to be "a good friend." I know she knows I love her, and that I was praying (am still praying) for her, and that she could talk to me any time she wanted to, if she wanted to. But it still made me feel so inadequate as a friend, a bazillion miles away and I couldn't even cry on the phone because, well, it takes me awhile to let my guard down enough to cry when I'm actually sad (when I'm mad, that's something else). So I started thinking about knitting a baby "something." I didn't do it quite yet. But I've knit for each baby this friend has had, and had been planning a special project for this one as well.
Fast forward a few days, maybe 4? I get another call, from another friend. Her aunt has died. I knew her aunt, both the niece and the aunt are in my knitting group, Liz (the niece) and I are actually pretty good friends even outside group. Tinky used to knit baby hats for the hospital. Have a baby in Jackson County in the last 10 years or more (probably much more)? Chances are pretty high that the hat put on that baby's head was one of Tinky's. Baby hats, prayer shawls, I never once saw her knit for herself. And not just pink & blue, I've seen her use grays, purples, browns--anything soft and pretty. The thing about Tinky, is that even with her faults, she was unselfish. So I thought about knitting baby hats, for Tinky, because she can't.
And finally the happiest of reasons. New babies. Why would I need knitting therapy for that? Because I have a confession. I want another baby, so much that it's painful. I look at very young, unmarried people having a baby, and I resent it. Jeremy, Tessa & I struggle enough as it is (financially), and while you may say "if you wait to afford it, it'll never happen" I'm here to tell you that you can't live on love, and if it never happens, maybe that's better than the building resentment that would happen if we purposely made our situation more difficult with another life to support. Resentment in our marriage, resentment of the child we already have at having to share half of the little resources we have, resentment of those who know (or think they know) our situation and would wonder what we were thinking bringing another child into it. So we purposely don't. But that makes me resent some young couples even more, because it's a want down deep in my soul, and I can't seem to let it go.
So my therapy, and my penance, are baby hats. And I'll keep knitting them. For my brokenhearted friend, for Tinky, for the good of my soul. Because babies are pure potential, and that's a blessing that should be celebrated, no matter what.
Thankfully my camera is functioning the way cameras are supposed to again. I thought it might be the battery, and was given one as an early Christmas present. Well, that charged for forever and it still wasn't working. So I formatted the memory card. Well, I lost video from Tessa's talent show last spring (VERY sad about that) but hey presto...the camera worked again. So, that might help toward my blogging, because I can do stuff like this:
I'm on a baby hat knitting kick. It helps that there's been like, 3 baby boys born/about to be born in my immediate social circle, all this week. (Yes, I know one of those hats pictured above is pink & lacy, but that's for an in-kind trade I'm trying to arrange.) I'm currently working on the 4th one, another girl hat because I knit two blue in a row and needed a change. I'll get to that 3rd boy one next--it only takes me about 3 hours to knit a baby hat.
But the whys of the baby hats goes even deeper than prolific reproduction or bartering for services. It's therapy in a way. It's been a rough month, emotionally, for people I know, and since no man is an island, it's affected me too.
A few weeks ago I got the call no friend ever wants to get--a very dear friend of mine's baby died. She was just about halfway through her pregnancy, so that's truly what it was. All the hard stuff goes through your head--what an awful thing to happen, how sad, etc. etc. but add to that the pain of not being able to hold her, cry with her, really any of that stuff that you do to be "a good friend." I know she knows I love her, and that I was praying (am still praying) for her, and that she could talk to me any time she wanted to, if she wanted to. But it still made me feel so inadequate as a friend, a bazillion miles away and I couldn't even cry on the phone because, well, it takes me awhile to let my guard down enough to cry when I'm actually sad (when I'm mad, that's something else). So I started thinking about knitting a baby "something." I didn't do it quite yet. But I've knit for each baby this friend has had, and had been planning a special project for this one as well.
Fast forward a few days, maybe 4? I get another call, from another friend. Her aunt has died. I knew her aunt, both the niece and the aunt are in my knitting group, Liz (the niece) and I are actually pretty good friends even outside group. Tinky used to knit baby hats for the hospital. Have a baby in Jackson County in the last 10 years or more (probably much more)? Chances are pretty high that the hat put on that baby's head was one of Tinky's. Baby hats, prayer shawls, I never once saw her knit for herself. And not just pink & blue, I've seen her use grays, purples, browns--anything soft and pretty. The thing about Tinky, is that even with her faults, she was unselfish. So I thought about knitting baby hats, for Tinky, because she can't.
And finally the happiest of reasons. New babies. Why would I need knitting therapy for that? Because I have a confession. I want another baby, so much that it's painful. I look at very young, unmarried people having a baby, and I resent it. Jeremy, Tessa & I struggle enough as it is (financially), and while you may say "if you wait to afford it, it'll never happen" I'm here to tell you that you can't live on love, and if it never happens, maybe that's better than the building resentment that would happen if we purposely made our situation more difficult with another life to support. Resentment in our marriage, resentment of the child we already have at having to share half of the little resources we have, resentment of those who know (or think they know) our situation and would wonder what we were thinking bringing another child into it. So we purposely don't. But that makes me resent some young couples even more, because it's a want down deep in my soul, and I can't seem to let it go.
So my therapy, and my penance, are baby hats. And I'll keep knitting them. For my brokenhearted friend, for Tinky, for the good of my soul. Because babies are pure potential, and that's a blessing that should be celebrated, no matter what.
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