Baby Shower Gifts.

My first sewing projects in, um, F O R E V E R.
All of these projects were pretty simple and turned out really cute. I love the fabric. The parents aren't finding out the baby's sex and I'm kind of glad because if I knew it was a boy or a girl, I probably would have gone for a gender specific fabric. This is pretty gender neutral without being a blatant, "I don't know what the sex of the baby is so here is something yellow and green" gift.
The blanket & bib are from Bend-the-Rules Sewing.
The kimono is from here. The last one I made was quite awhile ago!

A Delicious Sandwich.

I've had this recipe bookmarked for awhile. It's very good. I served it for dinner, but Cooking Light recommends it for breakfast/brunch.
I served it with sweet potato fries.

The sandwich is grilled goat cheese sandwich served on cinnamon raisin bread. The goat cheese mixture includes honey, lemon zest, and basil. The recipe calls for fig preserves. I couldn't find that, so I used Dickinson's apple butter instead. Very delicious!

Sorry for the crappy picture.

Some Sad (probably overdramatic) Thoughts.

I've been wanting to blog, but can't think of anything creative or clever to say.
I've been perusing old posts, even old flickr commentary. I don't even remember writing half of the things, and can't even believe that they came from my head.

I've deduced that school has sucked the life out of me. This makes me sad. But, what furthers my sadness is the high possibility that this will happen to Abby. School, but its nature, just does that. I hate that. Oh, how I wish that home schooling was an option for us. I really, really do.

But, it's not. I need to work (hence the reason I'm back in school) and Abby needs the social interaction and constant activity that school provides.

I get really sad when I think about her losing her creativity, or being told how/what to think.

Graceful.

I finished my first knitted non-scarf wearable item. For myself.
The pattern was easy, but the chart was a pain in the ass. Combined with my fading printer ink, the small diagram, and the pattern errors, I almost gave up.

I don't know why I have more patience with knitting than I do with anything else. It's weird an unexplainable. Honestly though, if I had encountered the problems I did when I started the top, I probably wouldn't have finished. The major problems came on the last piece of the front. I had to finish it!

The yarn is a discontinued Lion Brand (Imagine) line from Heather. It's kind of itchy, but will be perfectly fine worn over a button down shirt in the fall and winter.

Oh, and I put it on ravelry. My first ravelry posting. I'm a dork because that's exciting for me.

Over 2 months.

It's been over 2 months and I'm blogging without pictures. What a let down.

This blog will not be about school: stressful; knitting: active; sewing: inactive; baking: sporadic; cooking: minimal and lazy; instead, it will be about what has preoccupied my mind since, oh probably 2nd grade when a 7th grader said to me, and I quote, "You got a big ass."

I'm a bigger person. Always have been. And when I say "bigger" I don't mean fat, I mean large. I'm tall, and just generally large. I wear a size 10 shoe. I'm not saying, "Oh, I'm big boned, that's why I look like this." It's just to prove my point. Throughout my life, most of my friend have been petite, this only added to my ogre-ish feelings. Perhaps that's why I was always attracted to tall guys (husband is 6'5".)

I weighed myself the other day. I managed to gain 5 pounds in a week. Don't know how that happened. It's not menstrual. I weigh the most I ever have (besides when I was pregnant... that doesn't count.)

I weight more than I did when I started Weight Watchers in 2003. That go around I lost a lot of weight. 53 lbs. I kept it off too, until I got pregnant. Since giving birth in 2005, I've tried Weight Watchers 3 more times. THREE. Lost very minimal, and the progress was super slow. I got so discouraged, I quit. And managed to gain back more than I had lost. Such a statistic. A depressing statistic. I blame(d) Zoloft. I started taking that about a week after my kiddo was born. That's almost 5 years on it; I recently weaned myself off and have since started taking 5-HTP. So far, so good with the mental health. But, will it help me lose weight? Who knows.

So now comes the crux. I know I need to lose weight. I know it. I try. I get discouraged. I try to like myself despite the fact that I abhor how I look. The person I am on the inside isn't reflected on the outside. But why shouldn't it be? Just because I'm FAT doesn't mean I can't be sexy, or pretty, or funny. But, it's easy to be socially stupid and awkward and to hide behind the layers so I'm not looked at funny. "Oh, the fat girl. She *has* to be funny because she can't possibly be sexy." Not fair. And, on most days, I don't let this get to me, but it's easy to fall into this way of thinking. Too easy. I hate the word FAT. I don't use it around my daughter. My goal is to not have her preoccupied with weight. She's already a big kid; she's 4 1/2 and wearing a size 8. She's tall. Her weight is proportional. She is perfect. She towers over her classmates. I need to have a healthy attitude so that she has a healthy attitude.

So, how to lose weight without feeling like you're worthless if you're overweight? How? There's the health factor, sure.

I'm rambling. These thoughts are scattered in my mind and mainly, I'm just writing it to kind of piece things together.


I think a lot of times people see "fat" people and either feel disgust or pity. Disgust: "Just stop eating at McDonald's." Pity: "Poor girl, she'd be so pretty if she lost some weight."

Fact about me: I don't eat McDonald's. Fuck. I don't even eat red meat or chicken. I don't like cream sauces. I eat more than my fair share of fruits & veggies. I exercise at least 3 times a week. Yeah, I have ice cream a couple times a week, but not super-sized Dairy Queen crap. Real ice cream; either home-made ice cream, or Turkey Hill vanilla, no artificial crap.

Summation: Being overweight doesn't mean I'm worthless. Don't judge overweight people. You don't know why they're overweight; hell, they may not even know why.

On my Needles.

I just finished up this a few days ago. I still need to do the trim (it's crochet and I don't know how to do that) and add a clasp. Other than that, it's assembled and wearable.

Now, I'm working on this bag.

(picture from the purl bee's website)
I don't know how, but I ended up decreasing a total of 10 stitches, but whatever. I'm still going on with it because the pattern is simple and enjoyable.

I'm using Rowan's Calmer Yarn in a light purple color.


This bag is in preparation of the Headhouse Market's opening next month. I like to trick myself into thinking that I will go there frequently. I know this to be false, but I plan to get there at least once during the season.

Tattoo. (Not the short guy from Fantasty Island).

I've been wanting another tattoo for awhile. Something Halloween-ish. Perhaps something like this (minus the words):


Or something like this:


I know it's gonna be awhile before I get another one. I just like to thing about it.

Balance.

How do these women who have fourteen kids and a challenging yet creative career find the time to blog? Blogs incorporated with photos and witty quips and the amazement of every day life? HOW?

I have one kid. I work part time. I am in school part time. I have no time to do what I want, let alone blog about it.

I do school work, house work suffers. I clean my house, school work suffers. I do school work or house work, time with my daughter suffers.

What am I doing wrong?

Furthermore, I am feeling torn with things in my personal life that I am not about to put on this blog.

I feel like I need a good solitary (heh) cry.

All this and I'm not even PMSing.

Meow.

"A cat's eyes are windows enabling us to see into another world." - Irish Legend

A recent purchase.

I went to JoAnn's on Sunday with my mom, daughter, and sister.
I bought some pre-smocked fabric (feels like cheating, but I can't get my sewing machine to use elastic thread) to make my daughter a dress.

I also bought something that I've been wanting. It's nothing that I've used before. Tile nippers! I've always liked mosaics, and have always wanted to try my hand at it.
I honestly don't know when I'm going to actually do this but at least now I have the tool I need when the mood strikes.

Another school quarter has started, I am going to try to blog at least once a week. It probably won't be craft-related, but ah well.

Me Smart.

So, I bought this capri/bermunda shorts pattern that I've been eyeing up for almost a year.

Bought super cheap fabric at Jomar; this way, if it was a huge failure, I wouldn't feel bad.

They come together super fast. Just under an hour. (Not including cutting or the blind hemming which I did by hand.)

(Please pardon what looks to be a camel toe, but is not; also, pay no attention to the dirty mirror or the mess of toys behind me.)


I wanted to include back pockets because well, let's face it, my ass needs pockets. BUT OF COURSE, I forgot to put the pockets on and didn't realize I skipped that part until they were assembled. I did my best to put the pockets where I thought they should be. Heh. The pockets look like flower pots and my butt cheeks look like big puffy dimpled potatoes.


NEXT TIME (and there will be a next time!) I will use less elastic on the back, and remember to put the pockets on prior to assembly.

Easy pattern. Two thumbs and flat misshapen butt cheeks up.

Paternal Past.

Both of my dad's parents are gone. My grandfather died suddenly in 1995 of a massive heart attack. I still remember that morning vividly. The multiple phone calls. My dad running out of the house and scrambling in the car. Then his phone call to our house.

It's always strange after some one dies to see how family dynamics are altered. After my grandfather's death, my grandmother seemed to lose her interest in living. Caring for my grandfather was what she did. Now she didn't know what to do. They were married for almost 55 years.




Her life after his death was mainly filled with search word puzzles and television. In 2005 when I called to tell her I was pregnant, she first gasped in excitement and then said, "Well, the future is for the young." She died on July 22, 2005. That was the day I had the 20-week ultrasound and found out that Abby was in fact, a girl. My dad told her before she died. I'm glad she knew she was having a great granddaughter.


My mom called me that night to tell me that she died. I was sitting in a recliner in my basement. It was expected. I didn't cry. Ever. Isn't that odd? I've never cried for her death. I think it's because I know that she is where she wanted to be for so long. I always thought when people said that, it was just something to say. I did feel tears starting to form as I walked toward her casket, but when I saw her, I felt a sense of calm and contentment. Wrong or right, it is what it is.

The Past.

I have a certain fondness for things of the past. I can endlessly peruse old sewing patterns, old cookbooks, and old photos; I've always had an attraction to old black and white pictures.


Growing up, there was a closet in the basement (now my sewing closet) that contained an old gray metal shelving unit. On the top of one of those shelves was a painted gray crate with piles of old photo albums and stacks of single photos. Every so often, I'd finagle that crate from its shelf and look through its contents. Even though I'd seen and studied each photo countless times, I'd still concentrate on each picture. Trying to somehow force myself into it. In my imagination, I could go into those pictures and meet my young parents. (With my present knowledge, there's a lot I could say!)But, in the idealistic daydreams of my youth, I always wanted to go back into the 1940s, to see my grandparents get married, to wear one of those beautiful dresses, to be a part of something that seemed both romantic and comfortable. *sigh*

Almost four year ago, my cousin bought our grandfather's house. He left his old photo albums there. Recently, my cousin let me borrow those pictures. I scanned some. I tried to wish myself into the photos. I know it's not going to work, but I'm happy that I can still daydream.

Conclusions.

1. No matter what you do/ don't do, your child is gonna end up hating something about how she was raised. It's inevitable. My job as a parent is to make sure that the thing she hates doesn't somehow turn her into either a sociopath or a republican. I'm kidding... I know she's not a sociopath.

2. Happiness about a 4.0 is fleeting, as it should be for a 33 year old woman. I've been in college. I've graduated with honors. It has meant absolutely nothing and got me nowhere, and therefore, it is pointless to feel pride about it. Happily, I am no longer under the delusion that when I graduate I will get an awesome job. Been there. Done that. Got a job in a call center.

3. Now I understand why my mom said she was changing her name. "Mom, can I have a tissue?" "Mom, will you get me a drink?" "Mom, can I have a snack too?" "Mom, can I come out of my room?" "Mom, let's cuddle." "Mom, I don't wanna watch this." "Mom, I wanna go outside." "Mom, can I ride my bike?" "Mom, I have to poop." "Mom, I'm done."
Every time my daughter wants to say something to me, it begins with "mom." Imagine how annoying that is. If she would just cut out the "mom" it wouldn't be as bad. (At least that's what I'm telling myself.) Imagine your spouse saying your name at the beginning of every sentence. It gets old. Quickly. I feel bad for complaining, but I know I'm not alone in this. Solidarity in numbers.

Things I've Haven't Touched since starting school:

1. My sewing machine.

2. My new serger. I have a feeling he thinks I don't like him.

3. Sketch book.

4. My camera has been touched, but barely.

Exactly what I feared.

Blog is basically non-existent, as is my free time.
I'd feel worse about it if I was consumed with school work.

I was beginning to feel completely lost. In need of something creative and wonderful.
I picked up knitting needles and beautiful, silk blend manos yarn and whipped myself up a hat.

Of course, due to excessive knitting, my schoolwork suffered. I am sad that I cannot find the balance. Hopefully I will soon. Hopefully.

Review: Disney World.

The short review: My daughter had fun and that's all that matters. I loved watching her get excited at meeting princesses. And gasping when she saw Cinderella's castle for the first time. Those moments are priceless.

My completely cynical, pissy pants review:
Day 1: Checked into hotel and went to Downtown Disney. Ate at Wolfgang Puck's place. I got 1 sushi roll. It was $16.95. I usually eat 3-4 rolls. There was no way in hell I was paying for 3 rolls at that price. It wasn't even that great.

The first day at Magic Kingdom was stressful. Abby was still overtired from the long travel day. The fun parts: her seeing the castle for the first time and meeting Mickey & Minnie. Then all hell broke loose. She slid on a slide and smashed her face into the ground. Huge black and blue on her cheek. Crying for hours. We walked back to the hotel with a sobbing kid. Each of us refraining from screaming at her or each other. Then Abby decided to torment us with possibly having a bladder infection. Peeing every 3 minutes. Seriously. Apparently she just has a nervous bladder. Or something.

It did get better from here. Until it got worse.

I'm not gonna go into daily details. My overview is this: Disney is manufactured, corporate fun. I could not really get into it all because I kept wondering where the lobotomy ride was. Seriously. Everyone who works there is nice. And that's great. If it's sincere. I don't think it was. That is a problem for me. I cannot stand insincerity. Perhaps (most likely) I'm over thinking, wouldn't be the first time.

The food was kind of sucky. Not vegetarian-friendly at all. It got to the point where I was fighting the urge to get a turkey sandwich just for something different. Vegetarian options at most places: cheese pizza. Ask for something without the meat and the lobotomized employees look confused. "Do you want chicken?" NO! NO FUCKING MEAT! WE DO NOT EAT MEAT.
The best food: lobster ravioli at Tutto Italia in Epcot. The bread was also good. And, the cream cheese french toast in Cinderella's castle. That was good. The fresh fruit was a nice treat in February.
Other than that, there are no memorable meals. That sucks considering for how long we were there; which leads to the extended stay...

Snow in Philly kept us in an Orlando airport hotel for 3 extra days. We rented a car and found some places to go. They would have been fun if not for the frustration of being "trapped." I wanted to drive home so badly. My mom didn't. It probably wouldn't have been a good idea with Abby anyhow, but I cannot stand feeling like I have no control.
During our extended stay, we ate dinner two nights in a row at Maggiano's. That was good. We got the super-super-appetizer with fried onions, zucchini, spinach artichoke dip, bruschetta, and stuffed mushrooms. Everything was *so* tasty! I got garlic shrimp linguini that Abby loved. (The pasta, not the shrimp!) I also had a delicious pineapple martini. That's a reflection of how poor the Disney food was: I'm raving about a chain restaurant.

Anyhow, it's not like I didn't have fun, I did! We had a blast swimming in the pool. It was awesome to sit by the pool and watch Abby & Joe play while sipping on a pina colada. Abby was pretty good and so patient.

I had lots of things planned that just didn't happen: Hollywood Studios, Animal Kingdom, Bibbidi Boppiti Boutique. It wasn't worth the hassle and stress. We just chilled a couple of days and that's what vacation is all about. I'd like to thank my daughter for teaching me that.

Hi.

So yeah, haven't blogged in about a month. I think about it everyday though, I really do. Unfortunately, as I predicted, my "free time" is consumed with school work. BUT, I'm not gonna complain. I am actually (and surprisingly) really enjoying it.

Yeah, it's a lot of work, but I'm hoping it will pay off. I am very tired of not bringing in a worthy income.

I am feeling the need to create something though. The urge is very strong, but alas, I do not have one particular project in mind, so it kind of get pushed to the wayside. I want to do a cross-stitch project, I want to make a quilt for myself, I want to finish a messenger bag that I cut out the pieces for, I want to knit a little sweater set for a friend's in utero daughter, I want to USE MY SERGER!!! I want to make a journal out of an old book.

Ah well. Happily, craft projects will be there when school is over (whatever YEAR that is.) And, because I'm going straight through, all year, no breaks, I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed, but in a good way.