Organic Mama

So the kid and I are co-sleeping, which means I get woken up anywhere from two to eight times a night to nurse. Normally, that is fine by me - better than having to trek into a different room to see what he needs every time he squeaks. However, the not-so-friendly part of co-sleeping happens when I'm in a dead sleep and instead of gently rousing, Little J wakes up bawling. I am immediately jolted in a caffeine-like high by the adrenaline thudding through my veins that any computer maniac would envy. We are, of course, still getting over a stomach bug, but after last night's last puking session around 11pm, Little J passed right on out and slept straight through (can you believe five hours is considered sleeping through the night! Outrageous) until about 5am, when the aforementioned event took place.

Which means that I've been awake for almost two hours now and I'm due to crash any second. Wait for it, wait for it...

Tending sick wee-uns definitely takes the wind out my sails. I feel so helplessly awful while Little J sits there heaving his little heart out and crying. Just a bit ago, the stuff came out his nose, poor dear. And just this afternoon he was eating a bit of something solid, so I thought we had this bug licked. Anyway, I think we're almost finished with it, so hopefully I don't get sick as well.

As a side note to the ickle sickie, or really as a side note to having been through pregnancy and a semblance of birth, the list of which body parts don't go snap-crackly-pop when I get out of bed is the smaller of the two. I think it must sound to an outside observer, of which there aren't really any, very much like a box of uncooked pasta being crushed underfoot. Too bad my bloody chiro lives 3000 effing miles away.

Whoa, was I spacing out? Sorry.

I've resolved that I will not be posting on weekends, as it is the only quality time I get with my sweetie as well as being the only time I'll get a chance to go off on my own without the kid for an hour or two. I'm sure I'll break my own rule here and there - I'm a tried and true hypcrite, so it's to be expected. But for the most part, I'll just have to update you all on Mondays as to the weekend's events. In that vein...

Big J's job is a real weiner, I mean winner. The boss has the emotional maturity of a three-year-old and communications skills that rival Dub-ya's. Like Dub-ya, he's smarter than he acts, but cannot be persuaded to take his leadership responsibilities seriously. To wit, the preceding weekend happened to required all the IT folks for a server switch. Mr. Craptastic, in an unusual spate of planning ahead, had it all worked out so the department would only have to be in on Saturday for about twelve hours. Need I bother to mention that Mr. Craptastic's plans went all to S-H-I-T?

The long and short is that Big J didn't arrive home until 3:45 am Sunday, and Mr. Craptastic, in a fabulous state of management muckery, left at 7:00 pm the previous evening. If there was any goodwill left for Mr. Craptastic before last weekend, it's all gone now. I'm even tempted to write him a letter to let him know exactly what I think of his superior fuck-up-edness. Of course, I'm chicken enough to wait until after Big J has given notice and finished his time there.

Now you see the reason for the red lettering.

In somewhat lighter news, I think I've reasoned out what I'd like to name our second child if it were a boy. Ashe-Leigh, and we could call him Ashe. I figure if we spell it a little differently, then he wouldn't get as much flack for having "a girl's name". Not that I want that to be the decision-maker about how I name my children, but eventually, some nitwit will bring it up. Oh yeah, and if we have a girl, we've already decided on Zoe Violet. Little J has two middle names, so we might have to add a little something after the Violet. But we can cross that bridge when the IUD comes out.

Now you see the other reason for me not bothering to post on weekends. They're bloody uneventful - errands, and resting mostly. Can't wait to be back in the NW where there are actual things to do (outside, culturally, kid-friendly, etc. etc.). So if I do bother to rev up the ole laptop, it will be for a darn good story. We can only hope.

Although I don't think I've clarified this particular tidbit of information, I came back to blogging in large part because of the other cool knitters I found blogging about their trials, tribulations and creations. (I see now that I'd assumed I was cool and a mildly capable knitter. I was W-R-O-N-G.) I was prepared to chime in with my two knitting cents, to talk about my projects, and to participate in the larger knitting world. And since I haven't posted yet about my knitting, I figured it was high time.

I promise in the future to include a photo or two of my projects. For the moment, it's late and I'm feeling lazy.

What brings me to the conclusion that I'm not much of a knitter yet is the snag in one of my current projects. I'm making a fairly simple blanket for my sister who is due to give birth to my niece-to-be in a couple weeks. I have a problem bothering to find patterns, so I made one up. Actually, I repeated the blanket I made for my son. That should've been my first clue - the blanket for Little J turned out to be total shite. Well, I thought, I've learned a lot since then. I shouldn't have the same problems. Now, I'm not such a novice that I drop stitches all the time or anything like that. No, I just can't seem to get my head around why in the world the darn stuff wants to curl when I make a nice, smooth knitted side and a purl side. So I used a seed-stitch border. Which curls anyway. Actually, the whole piece doesn't curl. The border does this little fold one way on one edge, and the other way on the other edge. Infuriating, yes. Aesthetically pleasing, not so much.

Looking at a piece made by MomK, I notice she used a garter stitch to keep a sweater from doing that annoying little flip. It doesn't look much diff from my seed stitch, and it would be way easier. So, mid-piece, I've switch to garter around the edges. It seems to be working. Since it's for my sister, I know she'll understand. I just hope she doesn't also notice how odd the shape is - super long and a bit narrow.

Okay, so lesson learned, right? Use a friggin' pattern. At least I bothered to check my gauge this time.

We aren't up to a darn thing. We have not a single clue what it is you think we're getting up to over here, plotting away on the stairs. We're just two really cute little guys who like to hang out quietly and talk. No, really.

(Just wanted to introduce you all to the two guys who stole my heart right out from under my nose a while back.) 

Roe v. Wade. The gift that, for 33 years, has kept right on giving to an otherwise personally indifferent Neo-Conservative Republican Party. And they've finally found a way to challenge the ruling. Now, it seems, the "other side" is vieing to give them the very opportunity they seek. This article on the BBC website gives a quick rundown. Ulitmately, I'm with the folks who are challenging the abortion ban in SD - can you believe those bastiges would force a woman who was raped, even by one of her own family, to bear an unwanted child? Although, on the flip side, what would overturning the ban do - like Mississippi, there's only one abortion provider in the whole state.

Admittedly, I'm a little leary about posting on this issue - it is such a hotbutton and I really don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. But the fact is this is an important issue about the government interfering in our personal lives on behalf of a religious faction. In addition, I must point out that it is interference by a group of people who claim that all life is sacred, and yet we are overtly bombing the shit out of at least two countries. Thus, I feel justified to add my voice to the cacophony in hopes that reason may be had somewhere down the line.

At almost one in the morning, coming up with nothing to read means I'm wasting my time surfing rather than sleeping. Although we're finally in a space where the baby sleeps well enough that it won't make or break my day to get six rather than eight or nine hours of in-bed time, I'm still going to pay the man in my own guilty little heart. The sitch is thus: I've been clicking from one blog to another, trying to generate possible readership and find something worth reciprocating for. So far, zilch. Every bloody person has a blog, and very little to say. Remind me again why I started this venture a second time?

Oh crud...guess who's waking up.

Amended in the Clear Light of Day...
So this morning, I sit down with my cereal and log on, only to go immediately to two very interesting and readable blogs. Franklin, a guy who knits (YAY!), nearly made me spit my cereal all over my laptop. Ginny is a fellow mom/knitter/creative spirit with some pretty substantial goals. Whew, and I was beginning to worry that intelligent life didn't exist on the Inter-snit.

So this is my old blog. As you can see, I worked very hard to make the thing purple. That, it seems, is about all I could muster up a passion for. The writing there was junk. That is why I've chosen to start anew - I hope by moving to a new page I will be inspired by new circumstances to make a better showing. Kind of like crumpling up the piece of paper you've been shitting all over with your pen and getting out a fresh sheet. Ah, that blank paper smell...

I'm plugging my first product. I think you all should just take a gander at this cute little number . I know I wanna have one for my next camping trip on Mt. Rainier.

C'est moi


Background

1. I am a compulsive organizer. Which means I drive my husband crazy trying to keep the house clean and tidy. It also means that everything has its own place, or it doesn't stay. Things that don't a home yet float around and around the house until they have one. Since having a child, I've had to get a little less tense about being totally organized. Little shortcuts like stuffing things in drawers to deal with later and not always folding my undies have become normal rather than anathema.
2. I detest crappy drivers. For all I know, I am one. But living in the Nascar state has made me wonder if some people just don't understand that driving is a risky thing and you could actually DIE.
3. I try very hard to take a zen approach to people I don't very much like, but I often fail miserably. This is true of political figures, like Monkey-boy Bush, as well as my neighbors and various family members. I'd like to be able to avoid taking certain kinds of things personally, but I feel like there's this angry little monster inside that stomps around waiting to be offended. My inner monster just doesn't want me to grow up!
4. Knitting is my latest crafty hobby. I started relearning to knit by making my son a blanket before (and after) he was born. I knit while I watch TV, which makes my poor hubby want to cry. I'm over my head with projects and ideas, but at least it feeds my creative yen.
5. Packrat? Connoisseur? Either way, I collect things. Right now I'm collecting books and kitchen stuff. It's very fun. Which leads me to admit...
6. I buy way more books than I could ever find the time to read. Bought with the best of intentions of course. And when I sort things onto bookshelves, I always put the stuff I haven't read in a pile so I know what I have on my plate.
7. Having a child finally taught me how to love. Wait, shouldn't that be my husband, you say? I thought so, but when my son arrived, I found that parts of my heart existed that I didn't know could be there. Having a baby and being a dedicated and attached parent has allowed me to open up closed and hardened parts, and to find new appreciation for others I care about as well.
8. I want very badly to finish a PhD in mediaeval Literature and Fantasy/Sci-Fi Fiction so I can be a college professor. Nuff said.
9. I know now that moving to the East coast was merely a short-term project to teach me how good I had it back home. That said, without this move I would not have my husband or my child, and I cannot live without both of them. So it was an educational move, and an important life-change, and I am thankful for both.
10. I have the coolest best friend in existence. I've learned more from her about the kind of person I want to be than I think I learned from other sources like teachers and parents. If I have a hero, it would be her.
11. As you could have probably guessed on your own, my favorite color is purple. And secondarily, blue. I love them together, I love them separately, I love them combined into beautiful new hues. I want to paint every room in my house some shade of bluish-violet.
12. I can't seem to get enthused about sports. I've tried. Really, I have tried my darndest. But even when one of my hometown (Seattle) teams is doing really well, I can't seem to work up the umpf behind my hoorahs.
13. This is not my first blog. I tried about a year ago to get on the bandwagon while my husband was hot on the idea. I ran into some rather unsavory arsenuts who were preaching in the other direction, so I bailed. Flamewars are not exciting to me, and often I'd like to join in, which makes me dislike myself just a bit. So I forswore the whole thing until I could find a way to get interested in blogging apart from being one of the gang.
14. I watch some TV, but NO cable. Like the microwave, cable TV is an invention I've done without for a decade or more. I watch the shows we download or buy on DVD, as in anything from the Whedon-verse and Alton Brown's Good Eats. Reality TV is garbage and a waste of valuable airwaves.
15. I LURVE the Harry Potter books & movies. I love it. I lurve it! I luuuurve all of it. Okay, I'll refrain from editorializing here about how the fourth movie blew chunks and that the books aren't just for children, blah blah blah. I'll save all that for a sickenly saccharine post later on.

All right then, time to get this baby on the presses. We'll just have to get to know me in 15-item installments, then.

What I do...

My day consists of hanging out with one rather small and very vocal 14-month-old personage. He is, of course, my son. For lack of a better description, I am a stay-at-home mom, though that implies that my days are filled with games, books and snacks. I know being a stay-at-homer isn't dosesn't garner as much disrespect from the ultra-fem crowd as it used to, but it still doesn't get the respect a proper career does. But I'm here to tell you that my job is a 24-hour-a-day operation that is part chef, part circus clown, part administrative assistant and part maid. Now, if anyone out there would like to tally how much my husband owes me in yearly salary, I'll get down to the business of collecting.

Little one


Having lots of money and a sparkly career isn't really the point, though, is it. I'm happier because of what I do than if I worked in some office or high rise and commuted an hour or two each day. Just ask my financier, or rather, my husband. His job stinks, but we've had to keep at it because it pays the bills and eventually the insurance. For the three of us, the best times are when we can sit down to a quiet meal together or hang out reading books. We're broke most of the time, so we don't go to a lot of movies or eat out at restaurants, but I'd bet our choices really pay off in the long run for our marriage and for our childrens' futures.

Look at me now!


So I'm sure I'll be posting more about the rugrat. You'll be getting to know him right along side getting to know me, because he's pretty much the center of my universe right now. If you don't like kids, you're in the wrong place, then, aren't you?!

The Garden of My Heart

In my garden, there is abundant life. Not just the obvious flora - vegetables and fruits - but also fauna. Chickens, ducks, bugs, a cat and dog. Also, the air and soil are alive with the vibrant green and gold of health-giving goodness. There is also a child in my garden who runs free like the summer wind. He carresses leaves and vines, enjoying the wonder of watching things grow. He plucks fresh tomatoes and sucks them, letting the juice run down his chin. He laughs and chases the animals. He is pure joy when he is in the garden.

This is the garden stored away in my heart, waiting to bloom in the light of day. Waiting for me to become all that I am able. I do not need a diety's blessing, or the sactions of any government authority, because I am alive and therefore divine and capable of self-rule. As I live, I grow ever closer to fulfilling my human potential. I am both kinetic and potential. Paradox and simple truth. This is how my garden grows.