everything

it’s always everything, isn’t it?

life has caught up with me, yet again. i find myself knee deep in holiday projects, reading multiple books, loads of laundry, picking up and dropping off two children at various events, rescuing kittens, another bout of ECT and therapy…the list goes on. and that’s only the beginning.

our youth group leader is expecting twins, so there’s been baby knitting.

{ baby aviatrix in madelinetosh sport “candlewick” }

then there was some “i’m really bored but i’m not sure what pattern to choose” knitting:

{ joelle hoverson’s “last minute knitted gifts” chevron scarf in madelinetosh sock “fig” and mama blue simple merino “algae” }

and last sunday we celebrated scout’s baptism:

i spent one week at cedars-sinai, in los angeles, before i had enough “rest”. i finished two novels: “plain truth” by jodi picoult and “carrot cake murder” by joanne fluke. i’ve moved on to chapter six of “a confident heart” by renee swope and just started reading “made to crave”.

my upcoming schedule includes everything. making crock pot apple butter, knitting one more set of baby booties and matching aviatrix hat for the second twin, attending bible study classes on tuesday mornings, taking scout to the tone chimer’s group on sundays before sunday school, three times a week electroshock therapy appointments, a financial aid meeting to hopefully help with finances for school next semester, continuing my online bible study, wrapping up a halloween swap, sewing scout’s christmas dress, making christmas gifts for the family.

well you get the idea.

it’s everything.

and i wouldn’t change it a bit.

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Diva

Three seems to be the inevitable age of precious, pink cheeked, cooing babies turning into monstrous, out of control, I’m-gonna-hold-my-breath-until-I-pass-out toddlers. Ah, these will be the years to remember.

Ever since coming home with only a three-quarter finished dress I’ve gotten nothing but grief from my precocious (and questioning) little angel. I suppose the “gimme now” concept is something I’ve instilled upon her. After all, I can’t take credit for being patient. I’m the meaning of impatient.

And I guess that’s a good thing.

I’ve had quite a bit of a good thing lately. And that feels, well, good.

{She was saying “I miss Gramma”.}

{“I love daddy”.}

{“Easter Bunny, gimme chocolate.”}

Yeah. It’s all good.

In Real Life

In real life there are no commercial breaks or retakes. The most break time I get is when Scout might take a nap or when I’m reading into the wee hours of the night because the Ambien hasn’t kicked in yet.

In real life relationships are quite complicated. They are not the fairy tale stories of Disney where there’s always a happy ending. Relationships take a lot of work, effort and time. Sometimes they flourish into a loving marriage. Other times they are destroyed by the alcohol that one is addicted to.

In real life there are endless hours of being on the phone, making appointments, dropping off library books, football practice, laundry, taking the dog for a walk, grabbing the mail, going to the grocery store, and on, and on, and on.

In real life there are those rare moments. Late at night the rain is still dripping from the palm tree fronds onto the puddles that have pooled outside our bedroom window. I trace Scout’s shadow and tell her how very much I love her. I tell her how things will be ok. I tell her that I will always be there for her. I even talk to Dalton. Some nights I find myself petting the bed where he used to lay in the crook of my arm purring ever so gently to rock me back to sleep.

Yes, there are those moments when life ceases to exsist if only for a moment and I can just be. There are accomplishments, heartbreaks, bouts of laughter, shaking my hips to imaginary music, dreams, inspirations. A plethora.

I think of all of these things as I watch Scout twirl around in her big girl birthday dress, pressed and pleated.

I think of these things as I carefully make the stitches that bring a present together, something I hope the kids will enjoy unwrapping on Christmas morning.

I think of all of these things when I pet Rogue and realize she’s gotten so big in the past three weeks that we’ve had to adjust her collar one notch and start walking her with a choke chain.

It’s in everything I do.

Countdown

Last night Shawn and I were having a discussion about how Christmas really isn’t as much fun as it used to be. The holidays are much different for me as an adult as compared to being a child. And hugely different from being an adult as compared to being a child who still believed in old Saint Nick. The most stress I experienced, as a child, was figuring out what to tell Santa I wanted. My list changed daily weekly. The proverbial pony was always at the top of my list. So was a piano and a turtle. Santa must have put me on his naughty list because I never did get a pony, piano or turtle.

But things have changed. Commercialism is alive and kicking. Jem and Scout both find themselves glued to the bright colors on TV. A commercial describing the newest and best toys. Forget that they will play with them for five minutes and then all is lost. Or better yet, the boxes and wrapping paper will bring much more joy to Scout than what was in the box.

So this year we are doing a small Christmas. A Christmas about being with family and friends. A Christmas about baking, (and even eating), cookies, peanut brittle and Chex Mix. A Christmas about making gifts that will last longer than any other store bought toy. A Christmas where hot chocolate is dessert nearly every night. A Christmas where we sit together, crowded on the couch under blankets, watching “A Charlie Brown Christmas” or “A Scooby Doo Christmas”, (more of the latter than the former as it happens). A Christmas about turning on the little colored lights and watching people’s faces aglow. A Christmas where our cards are already sent. A Christmas where the tree is trimmed and stockings have already been hung.

A Christmas where I can look at my window and appreciate every second, minute, hour, day, week, month and stitch that I put into it.

A chaotic mess:

A chronological materpiece, in my humble opinion of course.

I am . that close to being done with the knit presents. In fact, I’m so close that I decided to add a couple smaller things for the kids. But you’ll just have to wait, just like them.

Hats Off To You

Maybe it’s because in the early mornings when I take Rogue out to potty, the air is crisp, clean and a bit nippy. Or maybe it’s because in the evenings, when you are just trying to take in all the stars and moon, you can see your warm breath dissipate as though it never existed. But something, and I really can’t pinpoint the exact moment, has caused me to take up the needles and knit hats.

Not one. Not two. But, three hats.

The thing about it is, I don’t wear hats. But I do now.

Now it’s {a black pepper} Golden Autumn Hat

Blue Autumn

Yarn: Rowan Felted Tweed in Duck Egg, approximately 1 3/4 skeins

Needles: US 3 and 4’s

Mods: The only modification I made on this hat was to do one repeat less than the pattern recommends. I knit four repeats and have plenty of extra room for my hair. And, of course, there is a bit of slouch. Thus, only needing three quarters of that second skein.

I’m thinking I can make a smaller version for Scout. After all, she loves hats. And she wears them. With pride.

Phoncible

Last week, while perusing yarn stashes on Ravelry, I found two skeins of Noro for a new hat, Phoncible to be exact. I’m not really a hat wearing type of gal. I don’t look too great in hats except maybe a cowboy hat. No, really. I look great wearing cowboy hats. But there was something about the playful colors and striping that snared me. And having a wool hat for the cold weather wasn’t a bad reason to start this either, know what I mean? (Anything to justify casting on something new.)

So without further ado,

Phoncible by Presentsknits

Yarn: Noro Kureyon, 2 skeins (dye lot numbers 152 and 184)

Needles: US 7 (16″ circulars and DPN’s)

Mods: I cast on 112 instead of 100  (to fit a 23″ circumference). I also started decreasing over 110 sts instead of starting at 100. This makes for a roomier hat, especially if you have a big head or lots of hair.

Phoncible2

Personally, I think Scout looks much cuter trying it on.

Phoncible

Then again I think she’s cute no matter what she does. Don’t you?

ROYGBIV

ChevronScarf

I’m pretty certain that the two skeins of STR accomplished my goal. It’s as much of a rainbow as one might see in the sky after the storm has passed and the sun shines through.

Every color is visible.

Every color has meaning.

Every color has it’s place.

All one hundred and one inches of it.