The Outlaws

My folks are coming...

The Outlaws approach from across the ocean - which heralds both a great Heart-Joy and also rational fear about the logistics of meshing five lives and schedules and agendas for 3 weeks.  And ultimately, so much of it comes down to chemistry and making things jive in the moment.  

You can't plan it into working...

just float.

In other news, we've just survived a weekend with two 10-year old girls having a campout sleepover in the front garden, and both my partner and I were totally overwhelmed by the realities of kids-in-life.  A baby feels easy-peasy after that!  We have a proper teenager on our hands these days, and it's a real adventure.

In other news, I'm making baby-sit-up pillows.  Using old stuffing from other pillows.  Which may or may not go as planned, but gives me a good task for my hands while waiting for the outlaws to arrive.

duh---dah..... duh---dah... (this is the Jaws theme song).

taking it in

I've got a lot on my mind tonight.

The sun has set over my little town, and I'm looking out my window at the dwindle of the gloaming-time, the magic time.  And I'm all a-wash on the inside with sadness...

Because life just sucks sometimes, and to people who deserve better.  

Just read one of my favourite blogs - the one that got me started as a blogger really - and they just lost their new baby after only 6 hours in the world.  My god, I can't even imagine.  It just makes my heart ache so much for them, and I feel so overwhelmed with sadness and grief for people I've never met face to face.  

And I guess that shock-wave is still registering, but the universe was already a-kilter because I've spent most of the evening being frustrated with my blessed blessed oh-so-precious beautiful wonderful baby, who wouldn't/couldn't fall asleep for hours, and I've been .... frustrated.  With this precious morsel of humanity that I am lucky enough to hang out with and get to spend time with - who's healthy and whole and happy most of the time.  So that was a huge reality check.

And I've received several boxes of sewing supplies... bias tape by the bagful, zippers by the bagful, a whole box of gorgeous dress sewing patterns... you get the idea... and I've inherited it from a friend my Yogi-Mama-in-Laws who passed away last year.  She was wheelchair bound, and used to sew lying on her stomach on her bed because she loved it so much.

So, jeeeezus.

Sometimes the universe just socks you one in the gut and this was it.

Blessed be to babies everywhere, but especially to those little spirits who just visit for a minute and to the hearts of the mamas and papas they leave behind.  May we go gently with each other, and remember our time is oh so precious.

much love out into the gloaming universe tonight.

blessed be.

Seeking a minder

I love that the Brits call them 'childminders'.  It evokes images of Mary Poppins and of severe nannies pushing old fashioned prams through Kensington Park.  

However, that (completely false) stereotype is contrasted against what I actually want, which is a rainbow-clad, crayon-toting, fun, funny, warm, hippie lady who genuinely likes kids,  but especially my kid, and wants to spend lots of time on the floor playing games and making messes.  That's what I want.  

This afternoon is due to be full of phone calls.  Here goes!

On a more positive note, since it's pissing down rain and generally a morose drab kinda day, I include photos from last week and a glorious dusk that fell over Torbay.  

The WIP army

Yes, here they all are...

one to be frogged, one to be slowly completed, and one done.

And I've organised my stash.

So I feel very self-righteous.

sun hat

Oh! I've been looking for ages for a good baby sun-hat pattern, and here it is...

The Purl Bee has it.

Huzzah!

back on the needles

From no knitting...

to three projects in one 24 hour stretch.

Glad to be back in it.

One baby strawberry hat.

One baby troll hat.

One baby jumper... in seed stitch... this one's going more slowly.

Pictures to come!

take hold tightly

let go lightly.

this is one of the secrets to the felicity of love.

-robert orange-

just heard that quote from my audiobook.

this is the passion of the moment.  

knitting and painting to audiobooks.

yes yes and yes.

most of an evening

The compromises of motherhood are sometimes a bit cumbersome... like trying on a jacket that doesn't fit yet, but you slowly grow into the baggy corners.

We went to see an outdoor play last night... they were performing The Three Musketeers at the nearby country park, so after a full week of partner-persuasion and planning, we headed out, picnic under arm, baby in tow. 

She was a star - for most of it.

Which is saying a lot.  She stared at the swordfighting, shouted when the loud noises happened very cutely, and only had to be taken away when she started talking to herself, not even a cry!  

But partner didn't do so well.  He's just not a theatre person, and by the interval I could tell that he was done.  So when we had to leave about 15 minutes before the end - screaming child, silent parent, one mama who wants to see the end - a very rosy happy evening had disintegrated quite substantially.

Sigh.

This whole 'Doing Things as a Unit' is still really unfamiliar territory for me.  We came back to the house and I found myself feeling frustrated, filled with thoughts about how 'If I was on my own, I could have seen the end,' and even as they exploded in my brain, I knew that my life is so much richer and fuller and more whole now that I am a part of this magical circle of people interwoven into each other's lives.  But like Whitman said, 'Do I contradict myself?  Very well then, I contradict myself.  I am large.  I contain multitudes.'  

Part of being a feminist for me is being honest about the frustrations.  

So, in the spirit of Feminism and Honest Mamahood,

I would have loved to have seen the whole play last night.  And, I would be happier if my partner loved theatre with the same heart-joy that I do.  But, I am so joyful and grateful to be here, in my own shoes, toting along two pounds of baby kit just to go for a picnic in the park, instead of strolling along by myself to such an event. 

Thank you universe, for the lessons I'm getting this year.  

It's a slow learning curve, but I'll get there.  

Bad Penny

These are from the current project: Alphabet Book. It can't be finished until I order more printer ink, so posting it makes me feel like I've accomplished something on it. A myth.

And now? A bitch-fest.

It's just been One of Those Mornings.

Baby rolled herself off our bed while we were making coffee. Bam. Screaming ensues.
Baby knocked over coffee, spilling some onto herself about 20 minutes later. Bam. Changing ensues.
Two stains on rug won't disappear. Bam. Frustration ensues.
Now, am procrastinating all the things I should really be doing, just to be able to actually drink the cup of coffee that's so badly needed by this point. Bamitty-bam-bam.

Sigh. I just feel like whining like a pubescent schoolboy, but instead am going to move in a slow forwardly direction, inching toward a slightly better outlook by 2 PM. I hope.

Today is Baby Play Group, so soon we'll be soldiering into the hiking backpack (for the first time!) and setting off through the forest, down the Alpine hill that we live on, and to the baby centre to hang out with a bunch of mummies who are all about 10 years younger and have completely different outlooks and world views. (Okay, I lied. Still whining.)

On Monday of this week, I took the buggy to the library to go to Rhythm and Rhyme class... which little Buddha-Child loved to pieces. However, on the way home, I decided to take a 'Short Cut', which always spells bad news to this directionally challenged soul, and ended up pushing the Decided Not-4 by 4 capacity buggy up the hill through the woodland trail, instead of on the road. It was ridiculous. Only my stubborn never-say-die soul got us up that hill. But I think the baby learned some new words that day. Hopefully there were no witnesses.

This is all part of my current Let's get Out More plan. The broken elbow really put a crimp in our style last month, and since it followed on the heels of the move, we haven't been out properly exploring our new neighbourhood. Thusly? This is the month o' exploration, I've declared.

Onward ho!

she wakes

The bebe, after a full day of crafty-painty-bakey-cleany taskiness, has decided to freak out just as we were headed out for a ramble up in the forest, so she went down for a much-needed nap, while I settled in to study up on embroidery stitches.  Ha.  okay, just regular stitches that I should have learned a long time ago but haven't.  Blanket stitch is neat, incidentally.

So in a snatched moment, because she's already woken and blinking dazedly around on my bed, I'm doing a bit of quick-typing, cause that way I feel productive like 'something got done' today, even though the sweeping-soaping-painting-tidying-folding that's been happening all morning IS something, and don't let that big ole patriarchal world out there tell you otherwise, womanhood.  

Tis true.  Even a righteously confirmed feminista can begin to feel a bit, well, worthless, when all of her daily, weekly, monthly tasks at present are domestic, and therefore undervalued by society.  Garh.  The injustices of self-demeaning are a complex layer cake.  

On a more jovial note?

I spent the 4th of July in the United Kingdom, living this life I've found myself in.  We took the ferry to Dartmouth.  It was the kind of day where the sun shines all day, even though the forecast called for solid rain.  You know that kind of day...

We explored Dartmouth castle and walked the beach at Slapton Ley, where the US troops trained for the D-Day landings.  Lots of beautiful rocks.  It was a lovely family day, just the three of us, and I loved every second of it.  

Hands

Home Again

I'm back. Two weeks in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, visiting family and seeing Good Old Friends, who've all been breeding and thusly have a preponderence of small children growing up at an alarming rate. So it was mostly a my-baby-meets-your-baby kind of visit, with a baseball fixation thrown in for good measure.

God, I miss baseball. I miss the slounging on the sofa, do-nothing but talk bullshit all afternoon baseball mindset. It's not possible to explain this to the Brits in my life - they don't understand.

It was a lovely visit. I wish it had been a week longer, and then I would have had time to get sick of everyone, have a good squabbling fight with my mother and generally feel like returning to the UK. As it was, it never left the Honeymoon stage, and so now I'm back in my real life, feeling like American Life is this nostalgic, warm, family-filled summer fest o' lovin. Which, is of course, a myth.

But my real life isn't bad at present either. Soutwest England is having a heat wave, the ocean is calling every day, baby has learned to feed herself crackers and smiles beautifically upon everything, and partner missed us and is consequently very attentive at present. Lovely.

No crafting at present. I did a painting yesterday, but more important are the pictures of This American Life visit. Now I just have to bounce back from the jet laggyness, and all will be well. More coffee is the answer for now.