August 31, 2010 § Leave a comment
He turned 2 yesterday and while I’m really distracted by the move and the emotions of leaving, I’m also forced to remember that he’s two.
One of the things about having a 3.5 year old (she’ll be four in three months!) who likes to joke around is that you then get responses like this from your 2 year old:
Me: Do you want some food?
Boy: No way.
He also tells me to “get out of the way, mama”.
I love my baby boy so much and wish him a happy birthday!
August 29, 2010 § Leave a comment
We’re moving at the end of the month. I’m excited, but I’m also really sad. I’ve made some really strong connections here and I’m so afraid I’ll lose them. I’m afraid I won’t talk to my close friends once a couple of months have passed after moving. I’m afraid I’ll be forgotten. I’m afraid my kids will forget their friends.
What I’ve learned about fear is that it’s not always that accurate. I can fear all I want but it’s not necessarily going to happen. I could be afraid of getting hit by a quickly opening door but that might never happen. I might be afraid of getting hit by a car (again) but it probably won’t happen, either. It could. But, if I listen to my dance movies like I should, then I have to say that Strictly Ballroom has taught me that: Vivir con miedo es como vivir a medias. (A life lived in fear is a life half lived.)
So, although I’ll have these fears, they will not rule me or my move. We are moving. I am excited for the move, even when I cry because I won’t be able to walk to my friends’ houses, or do all the things I’ve become so comfortable with. Aaah, comfort. That says it all, don’t it? It’s fear of leaving the comfort zone.
I used to leave this comfort zone a lot before I had kids. Do I not want to leave it to protect them? What am I protecting them from anyway?
I do wonder how different my family and I will be in the flat lands. Here in Vermont, we’re tucked into the Green Mountains, at the end of line of condos. How differently will my kids be looking out at flat cornfields? We will be living in the city, but still. It’s gonna be a different feel. Will there be more room for all our energy? Between me and my kids, we’ve got plenty to throw around. What will it feel like?
We’re all definitely going through some major changes. It really does feel like we’re beginning a new chapter to our life, and this move, in this light, is very well timed.
August 27, 2010 § 3 Comments
Baby brother has a lot of energy. He’s turning two in a couple of days and it shows. He’s not a baby anymore. He does have some baby-like demands that no amount of toddler reasoning or distraction can quell. I don’t have it in me to be man handled all the time and when I do lose it with my tiny boy, I hear my own words thrown in my face.
One day (though this has happened several times), baby brother had crossed the line I had drawn in the sand. The line that kept me sane. The line that delineated the number of demands I could tolerate. He cried, whined, and wouldn’t let it go.
I didn’t want to nurse him.
I said, in my big voice, “I don’t want to”, and bilingual baby said, “Don’t talk to him like that, mama. He gets sad.” She came over to me and put her hand on my arm and said, “All he wants is his mi-mi (to nurse)”. Baby brother chimed in with: Yeah.
I told bilingual baby I needed some love and she gave me the biggest hug and a ton of kisses. Then she asked me if I was ready to nurse her brother. Yes. I was ready.
That’s bilingual baby loving me. Little Leila.
August 25, 2010 § Leave a comment
A friend brought over some diapers for me to repair as well as a couple of her husband’s old shirts for me to cut up. Love that! This recon actually predates the other tops I’ve blogged about. I actually forgot I had made this one.
It’s from the Made by Wendy pattern but without all the fixes to the pattern. What you will see is the way I hope the pattern change will affect the garment.
First, here’s the dress (which I call mini because it’s too long for a top and too short for a dress- for me, at least). It’s as-is. It’s the before picture.
In the next picture you can really see the difference in my right shoulder. See how clean that looks in comparison to the photo above?
The next photo shows what a better fitting bra (I mean undergarment) can do to the fit of your clothes. If you’re just losing weight, or putting on weight, make sure your undergarments fit right. It’ll make a huge difference.
Here’s the side view where you can see the slouch of the way-too-large armhole.
And how amazing it can look with a little change in fit. It’ll fall differently on my body with the right armhole measurement.
And the back view. I still need to shorten the back a bit for a less poofy look at the small of my back.
I hope to get back into sewing. I’ve been on baby brother patrol. He’s whiny and clingy and needs every ounce of me- or so he says- so for now I’m just blogging about all the fun I once had behind my sewing machine.
August 23, 2010 § Leave a comment
August 20, 2010 § 1 Comment
Ok. If you’re leaving a comment just so I’ll come to your online store, or you are a more evil spammer, I’m going to delete your comment. I don’t run ads on this blog and I’m not about to start carrying your comment/ad free of charge. Even if you write a comment that is coherent, related to what I’ve written, or you appear like a nice person.
Just not gonna happen. If I ever start a blog with ads (to support my family and my sewing), it’ll be out in the open.
If, however, you comment and you link to your personal blog (regardless of having ads or not) I’m definitely going to keep your comment. I’m the owner of this blog and I get to filter the content on it. In some cases, with comments I haven’t entirely agreed with, I’ve still kept them. I’ve been bashed a couple of times and I still leave the comment up. Just saying so you know you can make any kind of comment you want.
But, again, if you’re just commenting to promote your online store, save it. Or, just don’t expect me to keep it.
August 20, 2010 § Leave a comment
I know I keep talking about how I try to love my kids despite my imperfections, but I thought today I’d venture outside my home, where the tests are starker for me. At home, I know my family loves me and they won’t stop loving me. The larger world doesn’t have to make me that promise. It can ignore me, turn its back on me, and otherwise treat me like an piece of dust under a piece of dirt. Here’s me trying to love within the world around me.
There’s this guy that walks and bikes around the neighborhood who always stops and has the exact same conversation with us. He asks how old the kids are, suggests they are twins or sisters, and then finishes off by saying he still hasn’t been born. The order of his reasoning is always the same, and I answer questions cos I don’t want to leave him hanging. It seems important for him to finish this thought.
The first couple of times, I had no idea what was up with him. Some people just get into a loop with conversations, some don’t have a whole lot of social know how. Any time I’d see him, I’d chat a bit and then take my leave. Bilingual baby has always felt weird around him, so I try not to chat too long- she’ll ask me to go home/library/whatever, so I try to oblige both the guy and my daughter.
Some friends, my kids and I were all hanging out one day. The kids were playing in the Autumn leaves when this guy swung by the leaf pile, and us. He asked his same questions and we all tried to keep our part of the conversation going. We all silently agreed to that. He eventually left, which is when we began to speculate. One of my friends told me that she knew he had something else going on. A delay? I don’t know enough.
Fast forward a couple of seasons. I was walking with my kids, probably trying to get them to nap, when I saw this guy mowing the lawn. A woman came out. (I now put it together that it wasn’t his house and that he was probably mowing this woman’s lawn as a job.) This woman started telling him that he was doing it wrong, that he had missed spots. She went on. Her voice became silent to my ears. The scene was all visual to me. The woman’s body language was rude and insensitive. His spirit was ashamed and crushed.
I wonder how many people treat this guy this way? Who talks down to him just because of his delay? After seeing that scene I felt really glad that he and I had shared those repetitive conversations. I know other people in the neighborhood who also talk to him and don’t put him down. There are nice people in the world.
One of the things that bothers me so much is that this was a job for him. In the moment, watching that scene of him mowing, I couldn’t speak. I was watching but all I could do was walk forward. Now I cry. Not out of pity for the guy, but out of desperate frustration for the woman. I’d like to think that, although the guy in this story gets put down, the woman is also a victim to herself. I can’t say for sure, but based on her berating, I’m guessing they’ve both been ignored, had the world turn its back on them, and otherwise been treated like an piece of dust under a piece of dirt.
This is me loving them.