You don't know the meaning of fear until you wake up in the morning realizing that at some point in the night before, you have lost your pajama pants.
I have always had a problem with sleep walking, sleep talking - pretty much sleep-everything more exciting than what I do when I am awake. Mom remembers a time that when I sleep-cooked ramen noodles in the middle of the night. How does she know it was me? I cleaned the pot. I also sleep-ate the noodles, which was pretty impressive because it was my little brother who liked to eat them - not me.
I'm not saying that I am a heavy sleeper, either. I am notoriously easy to wake up. I heard a mousetrap go off in the middle of the night under the house, and I couldn't sleep thinking about the rat in the trap. I cannot sleep through thunderstorms, and when my cat goes to do his business in the middle of the night, I wake up. In fact, before the dog came around, the cat made a pretty handy security system; any time someone or something was in the back yard, he would paw the back window making a swishing noise. Once, in the middle of the night, this happened, and I got up to look out the back window to see this blinding white light moving across my back yard and almost screamed, until I realized what it was: my neighbors at the time had a cat with an inner ear problem (it was deaf and had a bad sense of balance,) so it would go to the wrong house and meow really loud until they retrieved the cat. Since a storm had blown down half a tree and, consequently, part of the fence, the cat was at our back door. The white specter was not a ghost as I had imagined it, but was my neighbor, butt naked, walking across my yard getting his cat, and I did not have my glasses on. I was not woken by the cat, mainly because I had gotten used to that noise, but I digress.
So, last night I went to bed thinking that the pants to the pajamas I was wearing were shorter than I remembered, so I know I was wearing them. Then, this morning I realized that I was no longer wearing pants. It's also laundry day, so I was wearing the special-occasion undies that, if you're married, you know what I mean.
Probably more frightening is that I have been looking for them all morning and still can't find them. Hubby says that I didn't wear them after all since there are no other signs that anything unusual happened in the house, but because I KNOW I had them on and they are not in the dresser, the fact that nothing in the house is amiss only makes me more concerned.
(If you see a cat with an inner ear problem dragging them somewhere, let me know.)
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Friday, April 2, 2010
The end of the 2 year sweater...
The time is almost here when I will take the 2 year sweater into my hands, sew up all the loose ends, put it proudly into water and block the cursed thing into shape for my husband.
To understand the caliber of work this sweater has taken, you must understand the process.
It took me at least 6 months to come up with the yarn and the perfect pattern that my husband would agree to. The yarn was relatively easy, considering I had picked it out for a sweater to make myself until I realized that if I got pregnant, I would not be able to try it on. Why not make hubby a sweater?
Because hubbies are difficult to knit for, that's why.
Finally, I took him to my favorite knit shop that was filled with plenty of patterns to choose from, but all he wanted was the most basic, boring pattern in the entire store. I bought it and began the project with gusto, but soon realized what a daunting task all of those stitches would be. (8 stitches per inch gauge) It soon got set aside while I began quilting, working at the library, and teaching... and then I got pregnant.
While pregnant, I got carpal tunnel making the needles harder to use than ever, so I got down to the arm holes and stopped. After the pregnancy, my hands still didn't cooperate, so I waited until October to pick up the sweater again to finish by Christmas (yet again,) but my daughter had other plans for me and my time. Who said that nursing a baby allotted for plenty of knitting time??? After Christmas, I swore that by Valentines Day it would be done and he would have at least another month to wear it before it got hot again.
For perfect timing, I am on my last inch on the last sleeve and it's around 80 degrees outside. I had to rip out the bottom of the sweater 3 times, (the last time I could not do it but thanks to my sister, it looks great,) the sleeves are a little disproportional, and I have learned, thanks to this sweater, that I twist every single stitch I make. Now my albatross is about to be cut free with that last stitch, and I will commemorate this with much chocolate and rejoicing.
Last week I wanted to show it off to my students. They wondered if someone could actually wear it, so I put it on to show that, yes, it did have arms in the right place and the hole for the neck would fit.
"You look like you are the type of woman who eats cat food on Sundays."
"Yeah, it would go perfectly with a pair of sweatpants."
Let's just say that the hubby had better wear it with slacks, jeans, sweatpants, and whatever else he will wear because after two years of this sweater, he will not be allowed to take it off.
My next project?
Fixing my stitch and starting on a sweater - this time it's for me.
To understand the caliber of work this sweater has taken, you must understand the process.
It took me at least 6 months to come up with the yarn and the perfect pattern that my husband would agree to. The yarn was relatively easy, considering I had picked it out for a sweater to make myself until I realized that if I got pregnant, I would not be able to try it on. Why not make hubby a sweater?
Because hubbies are difficult to knit for, that's why.
Finally, I took him to my favorite knit shop that was filled with plenty of patterns to choose from, but all he wanted was the most basic, boring pattern in the entire store. I bought it and began the project with gusto, but soon realized what a daunting task all of those stitches would be. (8 stitches per inch gauge) It soon got set aside while I began quilting, working at the library, and teaching... and then I got pregnant.
While pregnant, I got carpal tunnel making the needles harder to use than ever, so I got down to the arm holes and stopped. After the pregnancy, my hands still didn't cooperate, so I waited until October to pick up the sweater again to finish by Christmas (yet again,) but my daughter had other plans for me and my time. Who said that nursing a baby allotted for plenty of knitting time??? After Christmas, I swore that by Valentines Day it would be done and he would have at least another month to wear it before it got hot again.
For perfect timing, I am on my last inch on the last sleeve and it's around 80 degrees outside. I had to rip out the bottom of the sweater 3 times, (the last time I could not do it but thanks to my sister, it looks great,) the sleeves are a little disproportional, and I have learned, thanks to this sweater, that I twist every single stitch I make. Now my albatross is about to be cut free with that last stitch, and I will commemorate this with much chocolate and rejoicing.
Last week I wanted to show it off to my students. They wondered if someone could actually wear it, so I put it on to show that, yes, it did have arms in the right place and the hole for the neck would fit.
"You look like you are the type of woman who eats cat food on Sundays."
"Yeah, it would go perfectly with a pair of sweatpants."
Let's just say that the hubby had better wear it with slacks, jeans, sweatpants, and whatever else he will wear because after two years of this sweater, he will not be allowed to take it off.
My next project?
Fixing my stitch and starting on a sweater - this time it's for me.
Monday, March 29, 2010
French Connection
I am trying to learn French again. I tried in Elementary School, I tried again in college after a failed attempt at Spanish, and now I am trying again with the help of a friend's books and some books I found at Half Price Books last weekend. I am dedicated to this now, partially because this is my third attempt, and partially because I am going to go to Paris sometime in my lifetime.
So far, not so good.
I have tried reading children's books in French and so far, I really think I need to work on my vocabulary. I tried to figure things out by what things sounded like they should mean since my French Dictionary was at work, but that proved to be a silly idea. Freud would have all sorts of ideas about my psyche if he heard what I thought these children's books were saying, so I have gone with a more basic approach.
I tried a French Verbs Flip Book which has all sorts of verbs, arranged in alphabetical order, in a handy, conjugated order. Sounds perfect, right? Well, I have gotten through the "A"s, and my retention has not been that good. I know now, though, that if someone uses a verb in French that begins with an "A", they could be destroying something, coming close to something, giving something, or playing the accordion. Then again, they might be using a word not in my handy flip book, and I would still be out of luck.
I am not going to give up, though. I figure that if I study my French every time I nurse my daughter, I will probably become an expert by the time I raise enough money to go to Paris.
(Speaking and understanding spoken French, however...)
So far, not so good.
I have tried reading children's books in French and so far, I really think I need to work on my vocabulary. I tried to figure things out by what things sounded like they should mean since my French Dictionary was at work, but that proved to be a silly idea. Freud would have all sorts of ideas about my psyche if he heard what I thought these children's books were saying, so I have gone with a more basic approach.
I tried a French Verbs Flip Book which has all sorts of verbs, arranged in alphabetical order, in a handy, conjugated order. Sounds perfect, right? Well, I have gotten through the "A"s, and my retention has not been that good. I know now, though, that if someone uses a verb in French that begins with an "A", they could be destroying something, coming close to something, giving something, or playing the accordion. Then again, they might be using a word not in my handy flip book, and I would still be out of luck.
I am not going to give up, though. I figure that if I study my French every time I nurse my daughter, I will probably become an expert by the time I raise enough money to go to Paris.
(Speaking and understanding spoken French, however...)
Sunday, February 21, 2010
So now I understand...
It has been a while since my last post. Why? My daughter.
As I said in my last post, I was going to begin shouldering more responsibilities around here with my husband working even more hours than he already works, but that description does not cut it. I already work 40+ hours as a teacher, and now I am the equivalent of a single parent with a husband. I have started to run at school with another teacher friend because exercise at home is impossible; I have even had to hire someone once a week to come over and watch the baby while I catch up with the housework and my school work. The struggle continues into the weekend while I am trying to get the necessities done (vacuuming is not one of them,) while hubby is outside working on the studio. He even commented like our situation is a bit like weathering a hurricane - we are just holding the fort until the storm passes.
My coping skills have gotten better. The dishes are getting done a lot more often, the vegetables from the farm share are getting eaten a lot quicker, and I am still employed. The lady who watches my daughter asked last week, "I know this is a silly question, but how do you go to the bathroom? There is no room in the bathroom for a seat and she screams any time you put her down, not to mention the risk of letting her out of your sight." I had to answer that I put her on the bed in the bedroom right next to the bathroom and watch her from there. This led to a scary moment when she almost flipped off the bed, but I caught her... um, midstream.
I do not understand people who have children on purpose without a steady, trustworthy husband anymore, but I do understand their pain. I also have garnered a new respect for my mother who had four children, and wonder how she got around to do anything. Just the other morning I woke up at my usual time, but my daughter decided she needed to get up with me making the morning processes twice as long. I could not read the paper or drink my tea because of it, and I had to change my shirt because she tossed oatmeal all over it.
Mom always woke up at 5:30 am. I used to think it was because she was a masochist, but now I understand.
As I said in my last post, I was going to begin shouldering more responsibilities around here with my husband working even more hours than he already works, but that description does not cut it. I already work 40+ hours as a teacher, and now I am the equivalent of a single parent with a husband. I have started to run at school with another teacher friend because exercise at home is impossible; I have even had to hire someone once a week to come over and watch the baby while I catch up with the housework and my school work. The struggle continues into the weekend while I am trying to get the necessities done (vacuuming is not one of them,) while hubby is outside working on the studio. He even commented like our situation is a bit like weathering a hurricane - we are just holding the fort until the storm passes.
My coping skills have gotten better. The dishes are getting done a lot more often, the vegetables from the farm share are getting eaten a lot quicker, and I am still employed. The lady who watches my daughter asked last week, "I know this is a silly question, but how do you go to the bathroom? There is no room in the bathroom for a seat and she screams any time you put her down, not to mention the risk of letting her out of your sight." I had to answer that I put her on the bed in the bedroom right next to the bathroom and watch her from there. This led to a scary moment when she almost flipped off the bed, but I caught her... um, midstream.
I do not understand people who have children on purpose without a steady, trustworthy husband anymore, but I do understand their pain. I also have garnered a new respect for my mother who had four children, and wonder how she got around to do anything. Just the other morning I woke up at my usual time, but my daughter decided she needed to get up with me making the morning processes twice as long. I could not read the paper or drink my tea because of it, and I had to change my shirt because she tossed oatmeal all over it.
Mom always woke up at 5:30 am. I used to think it was because she was a masochist, but now I understand.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Back Pains...
Why is it when someone says that I need to shoulder more responsibility, my back ends up paying the price?
Back when we had a dishwasher, I remember complaining about not having enough time to do the dishes. Then, when we moved into a house without a dishwasher, I remember really complaining about not having enough time doing the dishes and wondering what I was doing to not have enough time to do the dishes. Now that I still don’t have a dishwasher and have an infant, I really don’t understand how I could have complained with a dishwasher, and I am pretty skeptical of the me 6 months ago.
With the new year and my husband, still building the studio but now in busy season with his CPA firm, I have had to take on a lot more responsibility. Things like paying the bills, housework, feeding animals really add up when someone is relying on you so heavily – and I do mean heavily. She wants to be toted everywhere I go, and she has had no trouble gaining weight. She is still working on the crawling thing, so in the meantime, I’m having to carry her everywhere and do more around here.
House chores for a lot of people can usually wait until the weekend, but for us in our little house, it has to be done every day. Yesterday I wondered what was going on that the dog was so underfoot, but then it occurred to me – there is a lot less foot room for human/cat/baby/dog to walk in. My husband’s paintings have filled up an entire room, again waiting for the studio to be completed, and the baby’s things are beginning to infringe on our living space with her new high chair (bought used,) and pack-and-play. Everything has to fit together like a puzzle, and if one piece is out of order, it will need to be set right before someone trips on it.
Now I have a new strategy – I’m strapping her to my back. It’s the same baby carrier I made a while back, but now she is on my back. The house is still not bigger, the husband is still busy working in the studio, dinner is still not cooked, and the dishes still need to be done, but now that she is asleep on my back I don’t have to lay down with her to put her to sleep.
It helps me ‘shoulder’ this responsibility a little better. As they say, when all else fails, get a back up.
Back when we had a dishwasher, I remember complaining about not having enough time to do the dishes. Then, when we moved into a house without a dishwasher, I remember really complaining about not having enough time doing the dishes and wondering what I was doing to not have enough time to do the dishes. Now that I still don’t have a dishwasher and have an infant, I really don’t understand how I could have complained with a dishwasher, and I am pretty skeptical of the me 6 months ago.
With the new year and my husband, still building the studio but now in busy season with his CPA firm, I have had to take on a lot more responsibility. Things like paying the bills, housework, feeding animals really add up when someone is relying on you so heavily – and I do mean heavily. She wants to be toted everywhere I go, and she has had no trouble gaining weight. She is still working on the crawling thing, so in the meantime, I’m having to carry her everywhere and do more around here.
House chores for a lot of people can usually wait until the weekend, but for us in our little house, it has to be done every day. Yesterday I wondered what was going on that the dog was so underfoot, but then it occurred to me – there is a lot less foot room for human/cat/baby/dog to walk in. My husband’s paintings have filled up an entire room, again waiting for the studio to be completed, and the baby’s things are beginning to infringe on our living space with her new high chair (bought used,) and pack-and-play. Everything has to fit together like a puzzle, and if one piece is out of order, it will need to be set right before someone trips on it.
Now I have a new strategy – I’m strapping her to my back. It’s the same baby carrier I made a while back, but now she is on my back. The house is still not bigger, the husband is still busy working in the studio, dinner is still not cooked, and the dishes still need to be done, but now that she is asleep on my back I don’t have to lay down with her to put her to sleep.
It helps me ‘shoulder’ this responsibility a little better. As they say, when all else fails, get a back up.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Salad Days
First weeks back are never easy, and this past week was no exception. The school just learned that we have a septic tank system not connected with the city by having the septic tank explode all over the place. We are having record breaking temperatures, and school is not called off even though I teach in a portable building about a quarter-mile away from the bathroom (that just exploded - the other one is considerably farther off,) and my daughter is getting used to a new sitter. My laundry is getting out of control, my kitchen really needs some re-organization, and my husband has been spending most of his time in frigid temperatures outside working on his studio, so this has been a stressful week; still, I something amazing has begun, and I can't wait to share.
Last year a friend of my husbands commented that he belongs to a garden share. I have been wanting to join one for years, but I was under the impression that they are usually hard to get into. I am pleased to say that my assumption was wrong, and I joined one, and got my first batch of veggies this week.
I have not had food that tasted so real since I ate the food off my grandmother's farm. The tangerines are sweeter, the carrots much more vibrant, and lettuce so much more... well, lettucier. Also, I got vegetables that I never would have picked out (partially because I have no idea what it actually is,) but all of it tastes so good. I have never picked out radishes. I don't think I have had one since Mom forced me to eat one when I was a little kid, but now I love them. I embrace the radishes, fennel, green onions, and variety of other things I am now using in salads because it would be a real shame to cook them.
The baby-weight is still not gone, and she is 6 months old. I went jogging the other day, and I realized that, wow, I really am getting nearer and nearer to 30, and that this does make a difference. I know that eating a huge salad is not the only thing I need to be doing, but this has been the easiest New Year's resolution I have ever made.
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