Sunday, February 16, 2014

Broken Links Abound!!

Sundorwondor is under construction. I'm working on new ways to excite wonder. Pardon the broken links. I'll be back in action asap :) <3 y'all

Friday, February 14, 2014

The Dishcloth Manifesto

I'm sitting at my kitchen table, drinking coffee and watching birds go all out on each other for seed in the snow. I've been watching them for two days now and I can't get enough. There are cardinals, sparrows, eastern towhee (thanks Amy for telling me the name), titmouse(mice?), chickadees, and a few others that I can't name. The more I watch them, the more I think about our (potential) new home and all the little things I'm looking forward to, all the small touches that make a house a home. Bird feeders and windchimes and suncatchers in the windows, the familiar holiday decorations that a family sees year after year, the smells and sights that let you know this is your home not just the house you currently occupy.

I try to envision what our home will be like and I realize that it's entirely up to me (well, us, but mostly me) to make this house into the home we want it to be and I start to feel a little lost. I start to think about the things I'll need, the art for the walls and candles to burn and the wreaths to hang for this to be our home. And then I remember that we don't have those things that we've never before placed much importance on those things and then I get sad.

But THEN I realize that that's really stupid. And it is. Then I say to myself, K, don't be daft, don't be a consumer, don't go blow your tax refund on some crap to hang on the wall. So I take to the internet for inspiration, to my old favorites. There is a very particular aesthetic that I associate with the kind of lifestyle we hope to lead once we settle. A country, farmhouse, handmade, soft, and homey aesthetic. A simple aesthetic. There's a woman named Amanda Soule. She has a website, SouleMama. I WANT to BE her. Meaning that her aesthetic, her STUFF, is the stuff I want.

But, it's sooooo haarrddd to make all that stuff. The knitting and the crocheting and the sewing and making stuff..I mean, I kinda know how to do it, but I've never actually completed a project involving yarn or fabric or needles or any sort. Never. I lack follow through (to put it mildly).

But, since I don't have crafting gnomes at my beck and call to create pretty things for me, I guess I better get crackin', huh? One of my goals for this year is to actually complete a knitting project and I thought dishcloths would be a good place to start.

All your dishcloths are belong to me

I mean, dishcloths. That's gotta be easy, right? Plus, it's something for my home.

For a person who knits, I'm sure it would take all of about an hour to make a dishcloth. I'm giving myself until the end of March. I have a goal. I have a deadline. And soon I will have a dishcloth.

Tally ho!!

Monday, February 10, 2014

Two Toddlers Enter, One Toddler Leaves

My kid, I mentioned he's spirited, right? If you're having a hard time conceptualizing what that means, lemme try to 'splain it a bit. This morning we went to toddler story time at our local library. We've been once or twice before and never had a really groundshakingly good time, but it's never been awful. Storytime is just that, stories. And some singing. Maybe some finger plays. That kind of thing. So there's a room with about 15 toddlers and you expect it to be like Thunderdome in there, like something from Lord of the Flies, but it's not. All the kids are just. so. chill. They're sitting with their moms, listening, making noise when appropriate, dancing, occasionally giggling, it's quite idyllic really.

Until you look to the back of the room. Back there you see this kid, he's a pretty big kid for his age, and he's the only one not sitting with his mom. He's over there looking at books, or he's over here pushing the buttons on the CD player, or he's got his hand down the front of his mama's shirt saying "boobie boobie boobie", or his nursing for like half a second before pulling off, flashing his mama's very embarassed boobie to the crowd. Now he's running, in and out of the crowd of seated toddlers. Now he's trying to steal someone's keys. Now he's looking out the window.

There's a mother in the front who keeps glancing back at him disapprovingly. There's another mom looking at the boy's mother pityingly. There's another mama who picks up her toddler protectively when the big kid gets close. The librarian in charge of story time keeps watching him, face guarded, not reacting to his exuberant and unruly behavior but occasionally a frown sneaks into her brow.

That's spirited. You know your kid is spirited when you come home from something like that and put him down for his nap and just cry. Spirited is not easy. Toddlers in general are not easy, but spirited toddlers are like having 20 typical toddlers all rolled into one very intense ball of toddler chaos and glory. He is an amazing little dude, my spirited boy, but he is INTENSE.

So next time you go to storytime and you see that  boy in the back of the room and you see his mama, cheeks flushed in embarrassment and frustration, do me a favor, don't be a dick. They are both doing the best they can. They're learning how to be. He is learning how to be in his body and deal with his emotions and his NEED to be doing all the things and she is learning how to be his mother and help him with all of those things. They aren't out to intentionally screw up your story time. They didn't come just to mess up your day. ANd I guarantee that long after you've forgotten about storytime and that little boy and his mama, she will be thinking about it and worrying about it and wondering if she should go back next time.