Life updates...
Beastie's test results all came back negative. Which is of course, to mean that we should be happy. Hooray -- there's nothing wrong! Wait, if there is nothing wrong then why does he have wet, sloppy, slimy poops four or 5 times a day? (hey, don't go getting grossed out -- I'm the one who has to change them!) He is on two new meds. Next appt in 4 months.
My boss got home from TNNA in Long Beach. We (me and my cohort, the "Rock Star Dyer" Tasha) bombarded her with new design ideas, new marketing ideas, new color ideas, new yarn ideas, etc. Scary what the mice come up with when the cat is away. Lucky for us, she loved them all. Phewww! I get to keep the best job in the world!
The knitting & crocheting has been chaotic at best. I've mostly been swatching and sampling for designs for work. In my spare time I'm working on leftover holiday gifts. I still owe Aaron socks (Beastie's one-on-one Monday - Friday); I still own Nate, my spare son, a pair of fingerless mitts; I still owe Kera, Medium Child's GF, a pair of socks. Some of these are in progress. Some of them are in thought.
And of course, the ten shawls for 2010. Yes, that's me, the queen of over-commitment.
My heart breaks for the Haitian people. We briefly visited Haiti once and it was an absolutely beautiful country, but so insanely poor that it was almost painful, and that was before the earthquake. I pray that there is some bright side to this tragedy.
Speaking of praying, I've been doing a lot of that lately, considering how completely lacking I usually am in all things religion. Grams has been sick. For those who know me, grams is really my best friend. She and I have a mother-daughter relationship. Anyway, she is 86 and is having platelet issues. And they found a tumor on her liver. She had a biopsy today, but they had to give her two transfusions just to do the biopsy. So yeah, lots of praying.
Maybe I'll make my grams a prayer shawl. Because, ya know, I need an excuse to cast on one more project.
Beastie is off school for the next FOUR days. Ugh. That means lots of time spent on my laptop knitting or crocheting or designing while he putters around the living room and watches TV. Cross fingers that I might actually get a few things completed in the next few days!
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
Astral Cowl
Beastie & I overslept this morning. All the 'men' were gone to work/school and it never occurred to any of them that I might appreciate a wake up. So at about 30 seconds before the bus pulled up to the house I woke up, just in time to glance at the clock, jump out of bed and hear the tell-tale crunch of gravel. Fuck.
Run outside (in my jammies and no bra) and explain to the van driver that we have overslept. Wake up beastie, who has no interest at all in being awake and run downstairs to go potty. Meanwhile, beastie has made himself vertical and grumpily wandered to the kitchen. Try as you might, you cannot explain "hurry" to a severely autistic, tired, hungry six year old. You must let him sit at the table to eat his breakfast and even though you try to convey that the cold poptart is just as good as the homecooked eggs he has been eating everyday for breakfast during his 2 week holiday vacation, you somehow fall short and settle for him yelling at you in between bites of pastry while trying to jam his hightop sneakers onto his feet.
And that was all before 9am.
Thankfully the day got better after that. I saw two foxes on the drive to take beastie to school. One following the other across the road. They were beautiful with huge bushy tails. Foxes have always been enigmatic to me. They look like a cross between a dog and a cat, at least to me. I think I like them, although I'm not really sure.
Leigh Ann, my bff, came over and did my dishes and vacuumed my floors, because that's the kind of bff she is -- and no, you cannot have her, she's all mine. Meanwhile I finished the Astral Cowl I had been sample knitting for work. Here is a before blocking photo:
and a detail shot
I'm all kinds of thrilled with how it turned out. Beth is taking it to TNNA along with the other cowl I designed made with Halo; she did the sample knitting for that one and it is OMG gorgeous. I cannot wait to see the photos of that on our model.
I've also been working on a few other designs, several from mmmmmalabrigo. I am thrilled to be designing more often. It's like a dream come true. Really, my whole fibery world is like someone said to me, "Write out a description of your dream job & then we will pay you to do it."
I am blessed.
Run outside (in my jammies and no bra) and explain to the van driver that we have overslept. Wake up beastie, who has no interest at all in being awake and run downstairs to go potty. Meanwhile, beastie has made himself vertical and grumpily wandered to the kitchen. Try as you might, you cannot explain "hurry" to a severely autistic, tired, hungry six year old. You must let him sit at the table to eat his breakfast and even though you try to convey that the cold poptart is just as good as the homecooked eggs he has been eating everyday for breakfast during his 2 week holiday vacation, you somehow fall short and settle for him yelling at you in between bites of pastry while trying to jam his hightop sneakers onto his feet.
And that was all before 9am.
Thankfully the day got better after that. I saw two foxes on the drive to take beastie to school. One following the other across the road. They were beautiful with huge bushy tails. Foxes have always been enigmatic to me. They look like a cross between a dog and a cat, at least to me. I think I like them, although I'm not really sure.
Leigh Ann, my bff, came over and did my dishes and vacuumed my floors, because that's the kind of bff she is -- and no, you cannot have her, she's all mine. Meanwhile I finished the Astral Cowl I had been sample knitting for work. Here is a before blocking photo:
and a detail shot
I'm all kinds of thrilled with how it turned out. Beth is taking it to TNNA along with the other cowl I designed made with Halo; she did the sample knitting for that one and it is OMG gorgeous. I cannot wait to see the photos of that on our model.
I've also been working on a few other designs, several from mmmmmalabrigo. I am thrilled to be designing more often. It's like a dream come true. Really, my whole fibery world is like someone said to me, "Write out a description of your dream job & then we will pay you to do it."
I am blessed.
Sunday, January 03, 2010
2010, really???
I refuse to do the whole resolution thing, but I do make some commitments every year, so if you want to call it a resolution, so be it. Here they are, in no particular order
So I've also taken on some nifty tasks for 2010. Some designing commitments I'm excited about, including designing six different things out of various flavors of Malabrigo. Plus some projects, first of those joining the 10 shawls for 2010 group on Ravelry. I'm working on my first TWO shawls simultaneously, one is knit and the other is crochet. I'll post about them later.
Beastie had his mega tummy scoping this past Monday. Everything looked good, pancreas was functioning normally, etc. They biopsied every organ from his esophogas to his rectum, most of them in 3 or 4 places. Plus they took blood samples from his tummy, spleen, intestines, colon, etc. They will be doing massive allergy testing plus all sorts of other stuff. We should be getting the results back next week.
Okay, back to the needles, need to get a sample done by tomorrow for work. My own design even! Woot!!!
- I will blog more often.
- I will be more myself in my blog; less worry about being politically correct -- I have both a work blog and a volunteer non-profit blog for those things. Here you will get the real me.
- I have started doing weight watchers. Not so much in an effort to lose weight, which, let's face it, we all probably need to do, but more to bring a sense of accountability into my eating routine.
- I will do my best to pay all my bills when they arrive, not set them aside and then forget about them and then feel like a deadbeat when the insurance company calls or when I get an electric shut off notice.
- I won't take my husband's problems with his job on as my own. I have enough worries of my own to deal with -- I don't need to let his high stress career become our high stress lifestyle.
- I will continue to be the best mom I can possibly be.
- I will devote more of my efforts to my job, because I know I have the best job in the entire world and I am incredibly lucky to have it.
- I will dangle participles with abandon, when I want to.
- I commit to design at least a dozen good patterns this year, for both knit & crochet. That's a dozen total, not a dozen of each -- I'm not that crazy.
- I will tweet, plurk, facebook, ravelry, etc, etc, etc as often as I can without making me & my social friends crazy.
- If I want to blog something, I'm going to. I'm not going to care if it is witty or thought provoking or even just a sentence or two. If you don't like it, don't read it. This is for me from here on out.
So I've also taken on some nifty tasks for 2010. Some designing commitments I'm excited about, including designing six different things out of various flavors of Malabrigo. Plus some projects, first of those joining the 10 shawls for 2010 group on Ravelry. I'm working on my first TWO shawls simultaneously, one is knit and the other is crochet. I'll post about them later.
Beastie had his mega tummy scoping this past Monday. Everything looked good, pancreas was functioning normally, etc. They biopsied every organ from his esophogas to his rectum, most of them in 3 or 4 places. Plus they took blood samples from his tummy, spleen, intestines, colon, etc. They will be doing massive allergy testing plus all sorts of other stuff. We should be getting the results back next week.
Okay, back to the needles, need to get a sample done by tomorrow for work. My own design even! Woot!!!
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Sisters
To my sisters on this journey; Amy, Nikki, Amy, Stacy, Gina, Christina, Michelle, Lisa, Cindy, Carey, Jackie, Georgia, Sherry, Heather, Joanna, Anne, Amanda, Rhonda, Amy, Margaret, Nicole, Lin, Cheri, Jami, Vickie, Kathy and countless more...
Sisters
Many of you I have never even met face to face, but I've searched you out every day. I've looked for you on the Internet, on playgrounds and in grocery stores.
I've become an expert at identifying you. You are well worn. You are stronger than you ever wanted to be. Your words ring experience…experience you culled with your very heart and soul. You are compassionate beyond the expectations of this world. You are my "sisters."
Yes, you and I, my friend, are sisters in a sorority. A very elite sorority. We are special. Just like any other sorority, we were chosen to be members. Some of us were invited to join immediately, some not for months or even years. Some of us even tried to refuse membership, but to no avail.
We were initiated in neurologist' s offices and NICU units, in
obstetrician's offices, in emergency rooms, and during ultrasounds. We were initiated with somber telephone calls, consultations, evaluations, blood tests, x-rays, MRI films, and heart surgeries.
All of us have one thing in common. One day things were fine. We were pregnant, or we had just given birth, or we were nursing our newborn, or we were playing with our toddler. Yes, one minute everything was fine. Then, whether it happened in an instant, as it often does, or over the course of a few weeks or months, our entire lives changed. Something wasn't quite right. Then we found ourselves mothers of children with special needs.
We are united, we sisters, regardless of the diversity of our
children's special needs. Some of our children undergo chemotherapy. Some need respirators and ventilators. Some are unable to talk, some are unable to walk. Some eat through feeding tubes. Some live in a different world. We do not discriminate against those mothers whose children's needs are not as "special" as our child's. We have mutual respect and empathy for all the women who walk in our shoes.
We are knowledgeable. We have educated ourselves with whatever
materials we could find. We know "the" specialists in the field. We know "the" neurologists, "the" hospitals, "the" wonder drugs, and "the" treatments. We know "the" tests that need to be done, we know "the" degenerative and progressive diseases and we hold our breath while our children are tested for them. Without formal education, we could become board certified in neurology, nephrology, endocrinology, and physiatry.
We have taken on our insurance companies and school boards to get what our children need to survive and to flourish. We have prevailed upon the state to include augmentative communication devices in special education classes and mainstream schools for our children with cerebral palsy. We have labored to prove to insurance companies the medical necessity of gait trainers and other adaptive equipment for our children with spinal cord defects. We have sued municipalities to have our children properly classified so they could receive education and evaluation commensurate with their diagnosis.
We have learned to deal with the rest of the world, even if that means walking away from it. We have tolerated scorn in supermarkets during "tantrums" and gritted our teeth while discipline was advocated by the person behind us on line. We have tolerated inane suggestions and home remedies from well-meaning strangers. We have tolerated mothers of children without special needs complaining about chicken pox and ear infections. We have learned that many of our closest friends can't understand what it's like to be in our sorority, and don't even want to try.
We have our own personal copies of Emily Perl Kingsley's "Welcome To Holland" and Erma Bombeck's "The Special Mother." We keep them by our bedside and read and reread them during our toughest hours.
We have coped with holidays. We have found ways to get our physically handicapped children to the neighbors' front doors on Halloween, and we have found ways to help our deaf children form the words, "trick or treat." We have accepted that our children with sensory dysfunction will never wear velvet or lace on Christmas. We have painted a canvas of lights and a blazing Yule log with our words for our blind children. We have pureed turkey on Thanksgiving. We have bought white chocolate bunnies for Easter. And all the while, we have tried to create a festive atmosphere for the rest of our family.
We've gotten up every morning since our journey began wondering how we'd make it through another day, and gone to bed every evening not sure how we did it.
We've mourned the fact that we never got to relax and sip red wine in Italy. We've mourned the fact that our trip to Holland has required much more baggage than we ever imagined when we first visited the travel agent. And we've mourned because we left for the airport without most of the things we needed for the trip.
But we sisters keep the faith always. We never stop believing.
Our love for our special children and our belief in all that they will achieve in life knows no bounds. We dream of them scoring touchdowns and extra points and home runs. We visualize them running sprints and marathons. We dream of them planting vegetable seeds, riding horses and chopping down trees. We hear their angelic voices singing Christmas carols. We see their palettes smeared with watercolors, and their fingers flying over ivory keys in a concert hall. We are amazed at the grace of their pirouettes. We never, never stop believing in all they will accomplish as they pass through this world.
Sisters
Many of you I have never even met face to face, but I've searched you out every day. I've looked for you on the Internet, on playgrounds and in grocery stores.
I've become an expert at identifying you. You are well worn. You are stronger than you ever wanted to be. Your words ring experience…experience you culled with your very heart and soul. You are compassionate beyond the expectations of this world. You are my "sisters."
Yes, you and I, my friend, are sisters in a sorority. A very elite sorority. We are special. Just like any other sorority, we were chosen to be members. Some of us were invited to join immediately, some not for months or even years. Some of us even tried to refuse membership, but to no avail.
We were initiated in neurologist' s offices and NICU units, in
obstetrician's offices, in emergency rooms, and during ultrasounds. We were initiated with somber telephone calls, consultations, evaluations, blood tests, x-rays, MRI films, and heart surgeries.
All of us have one thing in common. One day things were fine. We were pregnant, or we had just given birth, or we were nursing our newborn, or we were playing with our toddler. Yes, one minute everything was fine. Then, whether it happened in an instant, as it often does, or over the course of a few weeks or months, our entire lives changed. Something wasn't quite right. Then we found ourselves mothers of children with special needs.
We are united, we sisters, regardless of the diversity of our
children's special needs. Some of our children undergo chemotherapy. Some need respirators and ventilators. Some are unable to talk, some are unable to walk. Some eat through feeding tubes. Some live in a different world. We do not discriminate against those mothers whose children's needs are not as "special" as our child's. We have mutual respect and empathy for all the women who walk in our shoes.
We are knowledgeable. We have educated ourselves with whatever
materials we could find. We know "the" specialists in the field. We know "the" neurologists, "the" hospitals, "the" wonder drugs, and "the" treatments. We know "the" tests that need to be done, we know "the" degenerative and progressive diseases and we hold our breath while our children are tested for them. Without formal education, we could become board certified in neurology, nephrology, endocrinology, and physiatry.
We have taken on our insurance companies and school boards to get what our children need to survive and to flourish. We have prevailed upon the state to include augmentative communication devices in special education classes and mainstream schools for our children with cerebral palsy. We have labored to prove to insurance companies the medical necessity of gait trainers and other adaptive equipment for our children with spinal cord defects. We have sued municipalities to have our children properly classified so they could receive education and evaluation commensurate with their diagnosis.
We have learned to deal with the rest of the world, even if that means walking away from it. We have tolerated scorn in supermarkets during "tantrums" and gritted our teeth while discipline was advocated by the person behind us on line. We have tolerated inane suggestions and home remedies from well-meaning strangers. We have tolerated mothers of children without special needs complaining about chicken pox and ear infections. We have learned that many of our closest friends can't understand what it's like to be in our sorority, and don't even want to try.
We have our own personal copies of Emily Perl Kingsley's "Welcome To Holland" and Erma Bombeck's "The Special Mother." We keep them by our bedside and read and reread them during our toughest hours.
We have coped with holidays. We have found ways to get our physically handicapped children to the neighbors' front doors on Halloween, and we have found ways to help our deaf children form the words, "trick or treat." We have accepted that our children with sensory dysfunction will never wear velvet or lace on Christmas. We have painted a canvas of lights and a blazing Yule log with our words for our blind children. We have pureed turkey on Thanksgiving. We have bought white chocolate bunnies for Easter. And all the while, we have tried to create a festive atmosphere for the rest of our family.
We've gotten up every morning since our journey began wondering how we'd make it through another day, and gone to bed every evening not sure how we did it.
We've mourned the fact that we never got to relax and sip red wine in Italy. We've mourned the fact that our trip to Holland has required much more baggage than we ever imagined when we first visited the travel agent. And we've mourned because we left for the airport without most of the things we needed for the trip.
But we sisters keep the faith always. We never stop believing.
Our love for our special children and our belief in all that they will achieve in life knows no bounds. We dream of them scoring touchdowns and extra points and home runs. We visualize them running sprints and marathons. We dream of them planting vegetable seeds, riding horses and chopping down trees. We hear their angelic voices singing Christmas carols. We see their palettes smeared with watercolors, and their fingers flying over ivory keys in a concert hall. We are amazed at the grace of their pirouettes. We never, never stop believing in all they will accomplish as they pass through this world.
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Hey look, a post!
Wowzers, long time no blog. I did not fall off the planet, although many of my friends may think that I have. The past two months have been totally crazy. First we had the Walk for Autism. We raised about $28,000!!!!!!! Fantastic, considering it was our first year. I was beyond thrilled with the way the day turned out.
Then, just five days after the walk I had a hysterectomy. I know, unexpected, right? Well, I'd had some inklings for awhile that something was wrong with my "girl parts" but I didn't realize how bad it was till everything was removed & examined. I won't go into gory detail, but let's just suffice it to say that only 3 weeks post-op and I am already feeling significantly better.
In there we also had Knitter's Day Out, where I taught two classes (fantastic experience!), the Big Sock came to Uncommon Threads, Beastie lost THREE teeth, Medium child got a new car (a Honda Civic), Homecoming came & went, we finally sold the Excursion an
d I cast on about 8 new projects and completed maybe two. A pretty typical two month period.
I'm finally feeling like myself again and more regular blog postings should be happening from here on out again. Meanwhile, here are a few pretties to keep you guessing...
Then, just five days after the walk I had a hysterectomy. I know, unexpected, right? Well, I'd had some inklings for awhile that something was wrong with my "girl parts" but I didn't realize how bad it was till everything was removed & examined. I won't go into gory detail, but let's just suffice it to say that only 3 weeks post-op and I am already feeling significantly better.
In there we also had Knitter's Day Out, where I taught two classes (fantastic experience!), the Big Sock came to Uncommon Threads, Beastie lost THREE teeth, Medium child got a new car (a Honda Civic), Homecoming came & went, we finally sold the Excursion an
d I cast on about 8 new projects and completed maybe two. A pretty typical two month period.
I'm finally feeling like myself again and more regular blog postings should be happening from here on out again. Meanwhile, here are a few pretties to keep you guessing...
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