Denial

I've discovered that the crocheting is actually a denial mechanism.  After making 2 afghans, 1 poncho, 3 hats, several dishcloths, and a crocheted crochet hook holder in about four weeks time, I began to wonder.

We're in the middle of a pretty stressful home sale...and until last week, I wasn't 100% sure where we'd be living during the holidays. As it stands, I don't have any idea where we'll be living 8 weeks from now.  And at first, that was freaking me out. Then, after many attempts to get the situation under my control, I realized that basically, I have zero control of this thing.

And so I began to crochet. Well, and drink white russians. I've spent a substantial amount of money on yarn and Kahlua, but have, to some degree, maintained my sanity.

Soph's doing great. She loves the snow and loves the holidays. She did make me throw up in my mouth a little when she told me she'd been hypnotizing her friend "A" to stop eating her boogers.

Today's best thing about being a mom: Construction paper turkeys cut out in the shape of her hand.

Today's worst thing about being a mom: This year has been the worst one so far with her feeling left out because we live in Utah, but are not LDS.  She asked me if she could be baptized the other day, and I tried so hard to explain why NO, she could not. But that's a whole different post, isn't it?

Crochet

My granny taught me to crochet when I was 10.  The potholder I made took me about 2 weeks, and the stitches were so, so tight that the thing could practically stand up on its own.  But I was proud of it, and my mom kept it for years and years. It was my first and, I think, last crochet project.

Lately, I've decided to pick up the crochet hook again. A new craft/fabric store opened in town, and Soph and I love any excuse to do a little shopping there. (For some reason, I don't hesitate to spend money on myself at the craft store the way I do, say, at the shoe store. I'm not sure why.) So I bought some yarn, and a giant hook, and started to crochet an easy afghan that Katy had taught me.

Wow, was that thing a monster.  For some reason, I decided to make it about 6 feet wide.  I did come to my senses, and decided that 6 feet was a long, if reasonable length for an afghan. The edges are anything but straight. But, it's a pretty, fuzzy green, and looks pretty on the couch, if I fold it so that the mistakes are on the inside.

I made a second afghan, of somewhat more moderate dimensions, and at least marginally straight edges, and then, I started making granny squares. They're fun, and satisfying, and there's a nice sense of accomplishment at the end of each one. Of course, now I have a dozen granny squares and no idea what I'm going to do with them.  Mostly, they're rugs and blankets for Soph's dolls. (Of course, it didn't help when Janz noticed the square I was crocheting, a pretty--or so I thought--sagey green and purple, and he said, "Hmmm. The Joker.)

My next project is a multicolored poncho for Soph. I can't deny, I think ponchos are super bitchin'. If hers turns out, the next one will definitely be for me.

Today's best thing about being a mom: Soph made me a bowl of oatmeal today. It's the first time someone has made me breakfast in a very long time.

Today's worst thing about being a mom: The oatmeal wasn't very good. ;)

Lookin' out the window

It's November 5th, and 72 degrees! The breeze blowing through the window is more of a breath of summer than of fall, and the sweatshirt I threw on in "didn't do the laundry last weekend and I'm totally out of clothes now" desperation is way to hot.  Bizarre.  It reminds me of this book.

I've really enjoyed fall this year. Usually I'm so freaked out by school starting and Christmas looming that I curse the fall and refuse to open my eyes to its beauty. Maybe since this one has gone on for so long, I've worked through the baggage to a place where I can notice and enjoy it.

Yesterday I took Soph and her around-the-corner friend J on a little nature walk.  They both are such little collectors. They want to take nature home with them in their pockets, and in mine when there's are too full.  For J, it's shiny rocks.  She just can't pass them up.  I preferred her gatherings to Soph's, which were pine cones that dripped with sap. She'll still hold my hand on walks, and by the time we got home, we were practically stuck together.

So now I'm off to do my little bit of volunteer work for Soph's teacher. I can't make it in during the day to be a reading mom, so I spend some time on Friday afternoons getting the reading folders ready for the following week.  Soph tools around visiting her old teachers and I have a chance for some one-on-one time with Mrs. S., so I see it as time well spent.


Today's best thing about being a mom: holding hands

Today's worst thing about being a mom: helping with math homework (So far it's not above my head, but folks, it's just a matter of time.)

What to read...

Sophie is a good little reader. Not a great reader, mind you.  She's on grade level, and all of her teachers have commented that she always reads with plenty of drama and expression. (No surprise there.) But the problem is, she doesn't want to stretch herself, and she won't ever, ever, ever finish a chapter book.

She'd much rather sit and read Calvin and Hobbes (again). In fact, that's pretty much all she wants to read.  Even at bed time, when I read to her, she wants me to read her Calvin and Hobbes--reader's theater style, with her reading for Calvin and me for Hobbes.  She even gives me notes about how she thinks it should be read, and interrupts me and shows me how it should sound if she thinks my interpretation isn't quite right.

And I'm just slightly, slightly concerned about this.  Don't get me wrong. Bill Waterson is a genius, and I do love Calvin and Hobbes, but a little variety would be nice.

But really, who am I kidding.  The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and with the exception of the books I'm reading for my young adult lit class, (Unwind--gag. The worst book I've had the misfortune of reading since Geek Love.) I haven't read anything from a new author in years.  I'm perfectly fine working my way through everything by Terry Pratchett, Diane Wynne Jones, and Sharon Creech, and with rereading my beloved Tamora Pierce, and Shannon Hale, and other "She-roe" authors.

Today's best thing about being a mom: I've been crocheting these super easy afghans lately. I gave one to Soph and she just loves it. It's nice to make something for someone you love.

Today's worst thing about being a mom: Imagining adolescence.

Nostalga

Wow. I abandoned this blog years ago, in favor of a fancy shmancy one on type pad. And then I never posted on the type pad blog. And then facebook came along and devoured the blogs, or at least blogging time/interest of most of my blogging pals. And then today in order to waste some time that I should be spending in productive ways, I began reading through these old posts. What a treasure. Not for anyone but me, of course, but all the same, what a treasure.

I'm not a picture taking mom, or a video making mom. And now that Sophie is 8, I've been mourning my lack of attention, my lack of appreciation of the precious days when she was little. And needed me. And skated on sprite on the new wood kitchen floors, and once stuck her new electric toothbrush in her butt. Sigh.  But here, here is a record of those days.  I had forgotten so many of our adventures together, and now here they are again.

So now, here I am, back again.  I never really liked the type pad blog, frankly.  It never felt like a home.  And the only thing facebook is good for is playing bejeweled.

I basically quit blogging when my sister told me that her daughter, then 10, I think, had discovered and was reading my blog.  It was very intellectually constipating.  But now, I suppose, I feel brave again.  At least for the present moment.

So, I hereby resurrect the blog. It won't be technologically savvy. But it will be a record. Because when my sweet Sophie Gene is 16, I'll think to myself..."Remember when she was 8, and still needed me?" And hopefully, look back here, and smile.

Today's best thing about being a mom: Halloween!  This year, Soph dressed up as the "Bride of Dracula." NOT, mind you, the bride of Frankenstein.  You see, her on again off again boyfriend (gasp, I know) "A" was dressing as Dracula, and the two wanted matching costumes.  Walking around with a couple of cool moms, supervising the trick-or-treating, and then coming home for a hot apple pie (the cocktail, not the desert) was good fun.  Also, I get to eat all of the Almond Joys out of her candy bag.

Today's worst thing about being a mom: Boyfriend!!  Well, as many times as I've insisted that "A" is a BOY and a FRIEND, but not a boyfriend, and as often as Soph has assured me that she "KNOWS THAT MOM!" she still calls him her boyfriend when she thinks I'm not listening. Mostly they chase each other around on the playground, I think, but all the same. This makes my stomach begin to think it would be a good idea to digest itself.