Wife, Mom, Slave to my Craft

How Shanna got her groove back.

So, for a while, I've lost what I lovingly refer to as my knitting mojo. I hadn't bought any good yarn in ages, I didn't have any truly exciting projects in the works, and I just didn't feel like knitting. I forced myself through a couple of trades with others, but I really haven't been feeling it. Finally, though, I bought myself some new yarn, dusted off some of my favorite tools, and bought myself a new pattern to pull myself out of my funk.

First, meet my new yarn, "Heart Throb" from Blue Moon Fiber Arts (heavyweight superwash)...

My favorite Addi 4" DPNs...

My gorgeous RSEW Yarn Bowl...

And my new pattern from my beloved Linds, Awesome Socks.

I am armed to battle my knitting funk with beautiful tools. I firmly and wholeheartedly believe that beautiful tools yield beautiful work. If your tools aren't pleasant to touch or to look at, how can you expect your work to be beautiful? How can you expect to come up with gorgeous results when you're using nasty bargain bin acrylic yarn? It's the difference in a pleather purse and Birkin. I don't know about you, but given the choice, I'm choosing the Birkin.

So far, I'm loving this pattern (visit the link to the pattern for more pics- it makes a gorgeous sock). The pattern shows off the colors of the yarn gorgeously, without creating any undesired pooling. I, for one, don't mind pooling a bit, but I know there are plenty of people out there who hate it.

For those of you who are confused by the word "pooling", this is what is commonly referred to as "pooling" by knitters:

Ok, these are crocheted, not knitted, but bear with me (for the record: I also made these). See how the colors in the yarn grouped up together and didn't really mix? That's pooling. There's a lot of different ways yarn can pool, but this is my favorite. I think pooling is beautiful. Yarn has a story, let it tell it's story.

I should write more, but I'm excited to get back to knitting. It's about time.

"You don't raise heroes, you raise sons. And if you treat them like sons, they'll turn out to be heroes, even if it's just in your own eyes." ~Author Unknown

My baby is writing. I cannot believe it. A couple of weeks ago, we stopped in at the homeschooling store here, the aptly named "Educational Store", to pick up a roll of paper for Seamus' easel- they're the only place I can find that carries it. I also picked up a preschool workbook for him that taught writing. I figured that getting a head start on K-4 for this fall couldn't hurt. We worked through the first part- the writing basics part- last week and most of this week. Lots of angled lines, straight lines, and curvy lines with some circles and half-circles thrown in for good measure. But today we got to start on letters. We started with the letter A and worked a bit on B. I can't believe he can write the letter A. I'm so proud...and sad...and thrilled. So very bittersweet.

 

After we got our A's down, Seamus asked me to show him how to write his name. The first line I wrote (obviously), the second line I guided him through (by holding my hand over his), and the third he did himself. His S'es aren't even backwards! *sob*

And in our house, for doing such a good job, you get a moose punch...because a moose punch is infinitely cooler than a gold star will ever be. ;)

Seamus starts pre-kindergarten this fall- it's offered by the school system here to prepare kids for kindergarten. They learn the basics of what they need to know before kindergarten- he probably already knows most of it, but it's free and it certainly can't hurt to send him. He's all registered and ready to go now. I was totally cool with it, totally ready. He'll be riding the bus every day. He's still going, but the closer time gets, the weirder I feel.

“You go to school, you get a master's degree, you study Shakespeare and you wind up being famous for plastic glasses” ~Sally Jessy Raphael

I picked up my new glasses yesterday and I love them! I don't think Mike likes them very much- I think they're bit too retro-cute for him, but he'll get over it.

This psudeo-MySpace, unfortunately, is the best shot of me. 10 points to you if you can guess who took it.






God, he looks so big here...and so much like my dad. And I, apparently, look like my dad, Dracula. Lord, I'm white.


Meet my son, ol' crazy eyes.

They're Vera Bradley and I love them a lot! They even came with a matching case in the same print as the inside of the glasses.

“An eye for eye only ends up making the whole world blind.” ~Mahatma Gandhi

So, I went to the eye doctor today (yes, I'm writing about this, bear with me here). $260 later (my insurance covers a vision exam and NOTHING else), I am the proud owner of a new prescription for Acuvue Oasys Contacts and some new glasses that I get to pick up tomorrow afternoon. My new glasses are awesome. I cannot wait to get them.

It really about time I got new glasses. My last eye exam was either in '06 or '07 and I got glasses then, but my beloved Seamus flushed them down the toilet about a year or so ago. Since then, I've been using the glasses I got before we moved to Japan (and we moved there in '04). Well, while they're fine for around the house, I was beginning to notice that if I went out with them on, I couldn't see. Whatever, it'll all be over tmw- you can bet I won't be tossing/donating/breaking these old glasses, though. Not since Mommy's Glasses vs. Toilet '08. The toilet won, man. The toilet always wins.

My contacts, though, are fan-freaking-tastic. I never knew it was possible to not feel the contacts on your eye. I remember being in high school and wearing Bausch & Lomb Soft Contact Lenses. The kind that came in the little glass vials, like this:

BTW, I got that image from here. If you're bored, it's pretty interesting. Fun fact: the contacts pictured expired when I was five.

Apparently soft contact lenses are so old and outdated that (1) they're no longer made and (2) no one bothered to take a semi-decent photograph when they were. Eh.

Anyway, I vividly remember asking for contacts for my 16th birthday. And this was before the age of disposable contacts.

This is actually 17-year-old Shanna, but it's the oldest picture of me in existence (that I'm aware of, anyway) on the interwebz. I'm on the far left. I cannot believe my mother let me wear that color.

The year before, when  got my driving permit, I had gotten glasses and I was sick of it. I needed contacts and I needed them RIGHT NOW. I remember getting out of school early on my birthday and my dad taking me to Sears Optical Center in Bel-Air Mall. I remember how excited I was...I remember how nervous I was...I also remember what I was wearing: a purple short sleeve turtleneck (don't judge me, they were cool then) and jeans.  I remember being called back and being made to do a series of tests that I thought were dumb. I looked at a machine with an image of a hot air balloon...and read the letters...and did all that better 1, better 2 crap...and it was all fine and good until...THEY VICIOUSLY ATTACKED MY EYE WITH A BLAST PUFF OF AIR! What is WRONG with you, crazy Glaucoma-testing lady?!? That is one of the most evil things you can do to someone, I swear to God. I still fear that damn puff. In fact, today I had to hold my left eye open with my fingers to get through it. That puff ranks right up there with latex balloons for me- and that's saying a lot. I also remember how expensive those things were! Like $80 per contact, and you needed 2...well, unless you were a cyclops. I imagine a cyclops would need a toric lens, though. They're bigger. I got 2 pair: one clear and one colored blue. I still to this day cannot explain why I got blue contacts. I have blue eyes, it really makes no sense. Either way, I got my contacts and my silver 1985 Volvo. I was hot stuff, I tell you what.

Or not.

Speaking of eye doctors, why do they all seem to have ridiculous names for their stores? Around here, we have Eye to Eye (the place I went), Hour Eyes (ba-dum-cha!), and....wait for it.... Gilligan's EyeLand (I'm dead serious, which is why I included a map. Apparenly Dr. Gilligan doesn't have a website.). I mean, the doctor I went to was fine, I liked her a lot and I liked their selection of glasses, but do we REALLY have to resort to cheesy puns to sell eyewear? I thought eyewear was one of those things that sold itself. You can't see, you get glasses. The end. I wonder if anyone ever writes down on those office forms that say things like Question 576: What made you choose Eye for an Eye for your Optometry needs today?, "Your name made me giggle"? My answers are usually well thought-out and eloquent. Such as: "Tricare said I had to." or "You were the cheapest place with the best reputation." Or, like the psychiatrist I had to see before my surgery in October, "You had an opening before anyone else and you have a reputation signing anything shoved in front of your grease-stained tie. Now sign here, here, and here and initial here."

You wish you had such a way with words, dontcha?

I've always done things the hard way. I was born like a piece of tangled yarn. The job is trying to untangle it, and I'll probably go on doing it for the rest of my life. -Karen Allen

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I took a little break. It was unplanned, but necessary. Thanks, Manda, for giving me a nudge. I'm going to make this a quick fly-by update.

Right after we got back in Feb, it snowed. And I mean it S-N-O-W-E-D. As long as I live here, I don't think I will ever get used to the snow. What really amazed me, though, were the icicles. We've had them before when it snowed, but never in this massive volume. They were everywhere...and lovely.

This is my very first snowman. Why is he laying down? Because he's tired. Yeah, that's it- he's tired. We'll stick with that because no way could it be that I have no clue how to make a snowman stand up. Either way, be impressed- Seamus was.

This is one of my new favorite patterns, although I'm probably one of the last people in the world to make one. I intend to make a bunch of them for next winter because it's sooooooooo much better for girls with long hair than a proper hat, which makes that stupid line in your hair when you take it off (those of you that live in the South probably have no clue what I'm talking about). The yarn is Peeps by my dear friend Aimee of Big Bad Voodoo Mama and it's CASHMERE and delicious.

For those of you who don't know, I think sock monkeys are creepy as heck. That huge red smile, those beady eyes...*shudder* Either way, when Seamus and I were in Joann's one day, he saw a kit to make one and begged me to buy it. Being the accommodating, crafty, fabulous mom that I am, of course I bought it (it also happened to be in the clearance bin for $5). We made it one night, with the help of my sewing machine that barely ever sees the light of day. It's not that I hate sewing, exactly...I'm just not that great at it. But, lo and behold, I made a sock monkey. And, I have to admit, he's even a little but cute. Seamus loves him. :)

I think he may have gotten my artistic skill, though (I actually am talented, much as I never draw). Check out his camel drawing. I'm very proud. I totally see the camel.

We have 2 new additions to our home. Crunchy and Squishy (Seamus named them), our Russian Dwarf Hamsters. We actually started off with just Squishy (the smaller of the 2), but the more we read said that they needed companionship, so we went back to PetSmart a few days later and picked up his cage companion, Crunchy. They're pretty good pets. They're pretty clean, sweet, and it's nice to have something that doesn't have free reign over the entire house.

And I'll end with some gratuitous family shots and make a real update this weekend. :)

Have a great end of your week!

The only place where housework comes before needlework is in the dictionary. ~Mary Kurtz

I'm finally back home and starting to get back into the groove of things. I really enjoyed the time with my  folks, but damn, I have missed home- with MY things. I've also especially missed having my laptop. It's a pain not being able to get on the computer and do something you need or want to do when you're so used to being able to do that all the time.
I finished another couple of pairs of socks. One for me and one for my mom and teensy little feet (seriously, folks, she wears a 5- it's like knitting a sock for an 8-year-old). Hers are from a Miss Babs colorway (called "violets", I think...maybe it's "irises") and mine are from another Miss Babs colorway called "Bluegrass".

Mom's:


Mine:

I loooove both of them- but especially love the colorway on mine. I'm going to make myself some socks like moms as well. I have nearly half a skein left over, plus a second one. Maybe I'll try out some Monkeys.

And here is my very first properly done kitchner stitch (ignore the little piece of string on the sock). I have NEVER been able to make it look right until I watched this video over and over and over and over again. Thanks, Marcie.

On Superbowl Sunday, Seamus and I did a lot of baking- while he wore his Auburn football kit. Can you tell we're not big on professional football in our family- we root for the college teams. Mainly Auburn. Ok, ONLY Auburn. Only Mike's an Alabama fan. But we don't talk about that. Anyway, while all of you were drinking beer and eating chicken fingers, Seamus and I were making tons of cookies.

War Eagle!

Which one do I eat first?


A little food porn to brighten your day:

More later...

"My life has been one great big joke/ A dance that's walked/ A song that's spoke/ I laugh so hard I almost choke/ When I think about myself."- Maya Angelou

God, has it really been over 2 months since I updated? I'd like to say that I've been busy curing cancer or taking in orphans or something equally amazing, but the truth is, I've just been trying to keep my sanity.

Christmas was lovely. Seamus got a bunch of stuff and so far, nothing has been completely neglected, which is good. I would list everything, but frankly, I can't remember. We didn't go crazy or anything, but Christmas is just a blur to me. I got some great presents and so did Mike. I got a set of new Le Creuset cookware (thanks, mom and dad), which I am head over heels for. Mike says I'm the only woman he knows who would actually be thrilled to get a kitchen appliance for a gift. I got a new pair of sunglasses from Mike, which I desperately needed, my poor old pink ones were coming apart. All in all, it was a great Christmas.

I got to see my aunt, uncle, cousin Brandon (and his lovely wife Audrey, whom Seamus calls "Laundry"), and my cousin Cole. It was so nice to see them all and even nicer to sit down with someone who wanted to learn to knit (that would be Laundry). She picked it up pretty quick and according to her blog, she is coming along quite nicely. I'm so proud that I can say, "I taught her that!". (While you're at her blog, check out her AMAZING quilts. I could die of jealousy.)

Mike is in school in Augusta, GA, which is why I'm down in Florida visiting my parents with Seamus. Seamus has been taking the seperation from his Daddy incredibly hard, which, in turn, has made it incredibly hard on me. They talk on the phone, Mike came down at Christmas (which left us broke as a joke), but ever since he left to go back, Seamus has been acting out in a BIG way. He has been hitting, punching, having fits, and generally a whole laundry list of other things that he never does. I've talked to him, I've punished him, and I've done everything in-between. he keeps saying the same thing: "When is my Daddy coming back? He said he was coming back." I'm taking him to Augusta this weekend (thank you, Dr. King, for the holiday) to let him see Mike and, hopefully, quelch the monster inside of himself.

After Mike went back to Augusta, Seamus and I stayed a few days with my mother-in-law and grandmother-in-law (Tatoe and Mammaw, respectively). While we were there, there was a Mardi Gras parade downtown in honor of the bowl game being played in Mobile. My MIL and I took Seamus because we never seem to make it down there for actual Mardi Gras. Seamus enjoyed it immensely and caught a ton of beads, but only a couple of moonpies (I...I mean, HE was very sad about the lack of moonpies).

I also got to see my best friend of 17 years, Ryan (I mean, seriously, how many people can say that?). We're going to re-try this picture again when I see her on the 31st for her Scentsy party. Maybe then my bangs won't be tucked up under my sunglasses. I love seeing Ryan, I just wish I could do it more. I miss her terribly and I wish I could have been there for her during the past few months.

All in all, though, we're all doing well just mucking through life. We're all healthy and happy (save for Seamus and The Great Separation Anxiety of 2009) and well. I hope the New year finds all of you the same (save for separation anxiety ;) ).

Mini-update

Been busy, had surgery, home now, and doing well. I have 5 million emails to sift through. Good times.

Shanna - 5; preschool lady - 0

This morning I got to meet with the director of the preschool. I had Mike, who is working the night shift, get up and keep Seamus so I wouldn't have to take him with me (and back to the scene of the crime). The first thing she started talking to me about was that we didn't get to meet the teacher because she was off helping her deaf daughter who was having a baby. Yes, lady, I heard you the first time. After that little song and dance, she asked me what experience I had in education. I told her that I majored in deaf education for 3 years and that I had worked at the speech and hearing impaired preschool on campus. She replied with, "Oh." Anyway, she went on to tell me (again) that the teacher, Miss Zoe probably had too structured of a style for Seamus and that some children took a while to warm up to her. She also said (and this is funny) that Seamus may have been scared by Miss Zoe's hajib (Miss Zoe is Muslim and wears the traditional hajib). Really? That is the best excuse you have? That my child was scared by a piece of fabric wrapped around the teacher's head? REALLY? *shakes head* In the end, I finally ended up cutting her off and telling her that I would not be changing my mind and that I would like to sign the unenrollment paperwork. After I finished that, she asked if there was anything she could do to make this better and I told her yes: 1. She could talk to Miss Zoe and explain to her that children deserve respect. A person is a person, no matter how small. How can you expect a child to have respect for YOU when you don't treat THEM with the same respect? and 2. She could gave me a refund of the money I paid. She coupldn't give me my money back, but we compromised by having her put the prorated difference into Seamus' hourly care (drop-in care) account. I'm satisfied with that. I'm not sure if she will actually speak with her, but I've done all I can without making it really ugly. Seamus and I feel better and that's the truly important part.

You, too, can prevent easygoingness in children. Please, think of the children.

The preschool director finally called me back- she even made a HUGE deal about how she was calling on her off time because she was too busy to call me back while she was working this morning (and apparently Wednesday through Friday of last week considering I left my first message Wednesday morning and I left my third message this morning). Um, yay? You're calling me while I'm driving to the gas station, I guess we're both inconvenienced, lady. The only reason she actually called me back is because I left a message with the enrollment office and gave an earfull to the guy there.
Anyway, I started off by telling her how disappointed I was that we didn't get to meet Seamus teacher before he actually started- otherwise this may have all been avoided (the teacher was out of town until school started because her daughter was having a baby). The director interrupted me when I mentioned the teacher being out of town and corrected me by saying, "You mean her DEAF daughter was having a baby." Sit down, lady. I hate when people act like that. Maybe I'm too used to Ryan (my BFF of 14 years- god, I'm old- who is deaf), who is fiercely independant, but I hate when people act like deaf people are completely helpless. I just said, "Yes, I know." I gave her the rundown of what happened and she cited personality clashing as the problem (no kidding, lady). What really got me was when she said, "It sounds like your son is just too laid-back for her class." Only the way she said "laid-back" made it sound like a fatal, contagious disease. Mike and I are pretty easy-going, I don't think it has hurt us in life- maybe I'm secretly suffering and don't even know it. Oh, the humanity. She then suggested that maybe we should put Seamus into the completely unstructured hourly (re: drop-in) daycare program. The hourly care program has children of all ages in it- it's a program for people who only need care once in a while for things like a doctor's appt for mom or something- not for specific age groups. I agreed to go speak with her in person on Wednesday and I'll sign the papers to unenroll him officially. I could probably fight this more, but he's doing a lot better now and I don't want to dredge up problems again. I'll chalk this one up to lessons learned.
Seamus is doing much better. Yesterday, it seemed like a light just came back on. He was happy and loving again and no bed wetting either. I am so relieved.

In other news, Happy 28th Birthday, Hubtard! I love my silverback gorilla. ;) (I love when Mike has a birthday- it means he's older than me for another 7 months)