Monthly Archives: May 2012

Auntie Time!

This Monday I drove out of the city to meet my brand new nephew. He is adorable, and squishy and a little, little baby. I’ve spent most of the week out here with him and the family. I’m only going back to Seattle for a couple days to gather frozen meals from friends before heading back Saturday morning. So I don’t have a blog post this week.

Hopefully I’ll be back next week with something that has a bit more substance. In the meantime, I’m an Auntie!!!!

Your Cheatin’ Heart

“My Torn Apart Heart” Picture from RiverPearl

Two weeks ago I wrote that I had been cheating on my blogs and webcomics by listening to podcasts all week as I crafted my freaking heart out. While I contemplated that posting I thought about cheating. I thought about when Jordan and I got married. I told him I would never divorce him, unless he cheated on me, then it totally would. Which is a bit hypocritical of me, because I cheated on someone once.

It’s true. And it was really dumb. I’ll tell you why it was dumb, aside from the obvious reason that cheating on someone you love is really, really dumb.

I was dating the best boyfriend I had in high school. He treated me like a goddess, respected my boundaries (even when I encouraged him to push past them) and took me back after I broke up with him. I don’t know if he knows that I cheated on him. I might have told him once, but thanks to my sieve like memory I can’t recall if that actually happened.

During my high school career I frequented a friend’s house for party time. His parents let us drink to the point of excess and smoke our little lungs out. It was a house of freedoms, sweet, sweet, illegal freedoms. During one of these little get togethers who should show up but “Tim.” (We all remember Tim right?) My wonderful boy had left the party, in fact the whole party was winding down, when Tim announced he needed a ride home.

Since I’m such a Helpy Helperson I offered to take him home. The desert is pretty spread out, so the drive was not a quick five minute job. It took at least fifteen to twenty minutes to get Tim to his house. As we drove we talked about the past. How we had dated, how he had screwed everything up and then all the sudden we were making out in the front seat of my dad’s Camaro.

I’ll be honest, this was not an “Opps, I tripped and landed on his lips” sort of thing. I knew as soon as I offered to give him a ride what was going to happen. I was a bad, bad person that night. A few days later I broke up with my wonderful boy. Then suddenly I realized what I’d done and my god, how I hated myself. I had lost a bit of my innocence and there was no going back. I couldn’t believe what a bitch I had been. I wanted to go back, I needed a do over.

I have never, ever cheated on anyone since. Some people might think that if you’ve cheated once you’ll do it again. Not me. The thought of hurting someone like that again just kills me. I still feel bad about it when the memory pops in my head. Some people say not to regret the choices you’ve made, that they make you who you are or whatever. I can’t say that I have no regrets because of course I regret that. I will forever wish I hadn’t given that boy a ride home, that I hadn’t put myself in that shitty situation. I will forever remember how the universe punished me too.

On my way home from Tim’s place that night the radio started acting crazy. The stations kept switching from one to another and the volume kept going up and down, so I pulled over to see what the crap was happening. I pulled over because my dad said not to mess with radio while I was driving. So I was responsible and pulled over, right onto the soft shoulder of sand. Mistake number two for that night.

After I fixed the radio, (there was a tiny remote that went with the radio and it was being smashed by a cup in the cupholder, so every time I hit a bump or dip it would screw with the radio) I noticed I was going to be late for curfew, so I tried to get out of there quick. Mistake number three.

I didn’t move. I tried again, not realizing that every time I tried to go forward I was burying the back wheel deeper in the sand. I ended up having to call my dad to come dig me out. Which made me feel worse, because my daddy can get a little scary when he’s angry, which is what he was. But not as mad as that time I made the Camaro fly. He was pretty mad about that.

Are You My Mother?

Me as a toddler, my mother, her mother and her mother’s mother.

I listened to a podcast on The Memory Palace last week about how Mother’s Day came about. You can listen to the podcast here, it’s a really interesting story. Although Mother’s Day is not what the founder Anna Jarvis had in mind, I think that Mother’s Day, as it is today, is pretty important.

I’ll be honest and admit that I didn’t realize what went into being a mom until it actually happened to me. I had some experience with babysitting, nannying, and working in daycares. The difference with those experiences and the job of being a mother is that you can leave those other jobs. You can go home at the end of the day and forget about the kids for awhile. As a mother your child is always on your mind. It doesn’t matter if you’re away on a two week vacation and you know they are safe with their grandparents, you think about them all the time.

I didn’t realize how much work being a mom was and I certainly never thought about the work that single mothers put in even after I had my son. It wasn’t until I was actually a single mother that I understood the kind of work that is.

It’s difficult to balance the love and adoration you feel for your child while having to be the bad guy so much of the time. Especially when they are so little and they don’t understand that when you grab their arm and sternly tell them not to run into the middle of the street it’s because you love them and they scared the shit out of you.

I’m certain that it gets harder the older they get. They begin to understand sure, but then suddenly they become teenagers. I don’t have one of those yet. I’m still at the innocent, sweet little boy stage. I know that I gave my parents a run for their money when I was a teenager so I’m nervous about this stage.

When a child becomes a teenager the balancing act becomes even more challenging (I assume anyway). There must be a balance between being a friend and being a parent. Leaning too far toward being a friend can be detrimental in that your child loses sight of the fact that you’re an authority figure, that you are in fact, the parent. Leaning too far toward being a parent can lead to your child hating you for an inordinate amount of time and possibly being cut out of their life forever.

I think my mother had a decent balance going on. I won’t say she was dead on because she wasn’t. Even though she’s my mom and I love her, she is only a person. And all people make mistakes. However, I say she had a decent balance going on because most of the time I felt I could go to her with problems, or just sit and chat with her about silly things. At the same time I knew she was in charge, that she had the authority to ground me for the entirety of my senior year. She had the power to take the phone out of my room, to limit my time spent with friends, to limit my time doing anything really. I recognized that she was my mom. (Same goes for my daddy, but this is a Mother’s Day post, sorry daddy.)

Many of my friends thought my parents were “really cool.” Which baffled my sister and I because they were our parents, and thinking of them as “really cool” was sort of weird. Now that I’m older and a mom trying hard to raise a good son (not like Macaulay Culkin in The Good Son, but an actual good person), I think the reason my friends thought my parents were cool was because they were able to balance being a friend and being a parent. They did their best to impose boundaries on their rebellious oldest daughter and when those boundaries were broken they didn’t hesitate to impart punishment. Of course when I would complain to my friends about said punishments they sympathized with me. But I think somewhere deep in our emo, angsty, teenage psyche we knew they were doing the right thing, hence the many proclamations of how cool my parents were.

So to my cool mom on the Friday before Mother’s Day, Happy Mother’s Day Mama! I love you so much! You are an amazing woman and wonderful mom.

Wonder Woman Tiara

Here’s the pattern for the Wonder Woman tiara I knit last week. I knit one this week for a friend who is dressing up as Wonder Woman for a 5k and it only took me a few hours. So an expert knitter could probably bust this out in no time at all. I made this to fit my head, which was about 21ish inches around. You can modify the pattern pretty easily to accommodate smaller or larger noggins.

The finished product, modeled by the lovely Cracker Bear.

Needle Size 3 US 3.25mm

Cheapy McCheaperson Yarn, Red Heart Brand, Acrylic, Worsted Weight, Bright Yellow and a bit of Cherry Red for the star

Cast on 1 stitch.

Knit one row.

Inc 1 (2 stitches).

Purl next row.

Inc both stitches (4 stitches).

Purl next row.

*Inc 1, knit to last stitch, Inc 1.

Purl next row.*

Continue * to * until there are 14 stitches.

Work in stockinette stitch until entire piece measures 7 inches.

*Inc 1, knit to end.

Purl next row.*

Continue * to * until tiara reaches desired height (I increased to 22 stitches).

Work 4 rows in stockinette stitch.

*K2tog, knit to end.

Purl next row.*

Continue * to * until there are 14 stitches.

Work in stockinette stitch until entire piece measure about 17 1/2 inches.

*K2tog, knit to last two stitches, k2tog.

Purl next row.*

Continue * to * until 1 stitch remains.

Break yarn leaving a long tail.

Thread tail through last stitch.

Duplicate stitch star motif on tiara (I used a pattern I found in Stitch ‘N Bitch).

Then go save the world.

Duplicate stitched star motif.

Cracker Bear’s head is a little smaller than mine, but here’s the back. On a person head it would be tied by the dangling bits of yarn.

P.S. This is a bonus post, come by tomorrow for my post about motherhood. Cause ya know, it’s Mother’s Day on Sunday… you should call your mom.

I’m So Sorry

My dear blogosphere, I’m so sorry, but I’ve been cheating on you this week. I was sent a list of podcasts and I’ve been listening to those all week instead of keeping up on reading. My only excuse is that I’ve been very crafty this week. It’s much easier to listen to a podcast while you’re using your hands.

I’m going to a superhero birthday party on Sunday so I felt I needed to knit myself a Wonder Woman tiara. I couldn’t find a pattern I liked, so I’ve started it three times. I almost gave up, but finally I just said screw it, I’ll make up my own.

My progress so far, almost done!

When I’m finished I might post a pattern here, because I had such a hard time finding a decent pattern.

The other thing I’ve been working on is announcements for my sister’s baby. I got them done in one nap time, cause I’m awesome like that.

So freaking cute!

The podcasts I’ve been listening to have been awesome. Really awesome. My favorites are The Moth and The Memory Palace. The stories are amazing and have made me laugh out loud on several occasions. I also love listening to Nate DiMeo’s voice. I don’t know what it is, it’s just very lovely.

Next week, I promise a real post, no more of this stream of consciousness stuff. Back to story telling soon.