Dropping leaves

Autumn is my favorite season.

The smells, the sounds, the hoodies, the boots, the scarves.

The special days: My daughter joined us on the 8th, and my husband and I held hands in a sunny, wind-swept prairie on the 14th. Halloween and all it's glory.
Apples. Pumpkins.

(Science alert) The leaves drop from deciduous trees to conserve energy - but also to rid themselves of leaves damaged from parasites, wind, rain. Outside forces keeping the leaves from doing their food-production to their utmost ability.

They shed the damage. Pool their resources. Reveal buds for regrowth.

This has been a rough year. Very rough.

Rough enough that I couldn't bear to sit and write about it - day in and day out. Nor could I expect you to sit and read it.

The trees around our home are beginning to show their fall color. Severing the life blood from the damaged appendages. I, too, am doing the same.

I have been recovering from an emotional "woe is me" time. I'm glad to say that I'm shining on the other side. My baby is about to turn 2. T-W-O!! I just opened my online store to sell blankets similar to the ones my great grandmother made - and I still use to this day. I'm recovering from foot surgery, but I'm going to do my absolute best to pull myself back together physically. 

Life is good folks.

Where have I been?

Hi all.

It's been a long time since I've posted. Why? Well, I've been reworking some priorities.

Yes, I love writing and I miss spewing my every thought for all of the internet to read (and search on Google endlessly). I found myself overwhelmed with feeling like I HAD to write to keep my readership up. But for what? I stripped my site of ads...and they weren't making me any money either. It was a high-pressure situation for little return.

In recent months, I've redirected my energy. I've re-realized a hobby that I'd hung up since I got pregnant in 2009. I am now working on opening an Etsy shop to sell my homemade blankets.  The Grand Opening will be October 1, 2011 and I hope you'll all check it out.

If you want updates prior to the opening, follow me on Twitter @WistfulStitches or like my page on Facebook.

I'm not gone...I'm just somewhere else - usually wearing a thimble or arguing with the bobbin from my sewing machine.

What to Expect Giveaway!

I'm a factual person. I gather facts from multiple sources and make my own decisions. I'm a researcher - it's what I was trained and am paid to do in real life.

Back when we decided to try to get pregnant - the only things I knew about pregnancy were what I learned on that one awkward elementary school field trip where only one boy was comfortable enough to say the words "vagina" and "penis" in front of the class.

The rest of us just squirmed and avoided eye contact.

SO...I needed info. A lot of info.

I turned to various sources, but my favorite go-to book for conception (and associated frustration), pregnancy month-by-month what to expect, birthing process, and bringing the little thing home...was What to Expect When You're Expecting.

Admittedly, the one that I dog-eared, read and re-read was a much more dated version.

I am pleased to announce that I have partnered with WhatToExpect.com (I KNOW, I didn't know they had a website either!) for a giveaway of shiny new What to Expect when You're Expecting books!


Ladies and Gents, I have SIX books to giveaway - sitting here ready to go.

Are you interested? Do you know someone who is pregnant?  A table that is terribly off balance?

I have SIX books to give away folks!

SIX!

I'm not doing any crazy earn-an-entry stuff here. Please comment below and share the link to this page with your friends!! I will pick winners on Saturday, so hop to it and spread the word!

Duck, Duck, Vulture!

I was driving down the quiet country highway toward town to pick my daughter up from daycare.

I may or may not have been dancing and singing.

I was several car lengths behind the vehicle in front of me when out of the blue a large bird soared over that vehicle down to the pavement, and the up over my vehicle.

I did that standard wince/cringe/duck/jerk/lurch that anyone would do when a bird with a six foot wing span comes within inches of your face at 55 mph. I saw individual toes, people!

He soared over my vehicle’s windstream in that “oh, yeah, I totally meant to do that” sorta way.

Turkey vultures are like that. They’re the crazy, daredevil cousins in the bird family. They play on thermal airwaves drifting up from the earth’s warm crust in the summer. Spiraling upward and diving down on a whim. They eat the dead – no real rush in that, man.

This isn’t my first encounter of the vulturian kind.

Nine years ago, I was driving my old beater pickup truck down another quiet country highway (you see a pattern here? Country=Wildlife, Highway=Cars, Country Highway = Vulture Supper) when I noticed three vultures munching on a deer that had been hit the day before. They all noticed my truck approaching at once. One flew up and to the right over the field. One flew up and parallel to the road. The third flew up and to the left into the grill of my truck.

A huge puff of black feathers was all I could see in the rearview mirror. The bastard left a dent in the front of my truck and I couldn’t get the hood to open easily ever again.

I had always admired the grace with which turkey vultures soared, and assumed that the grace was just a trait of all individuals of that species. I know understood that it would be like saying that all humans must be fantastic runners because one observes the New York marathon.

The next afternoon, I passed the same location.

Two vultures were eating…the third.

Natural selection, baby.

My internet herd

I can feel completely alone in my house. Not alone alone (so turn around you stalker creepy perverts) but alone in the sense of girl time alone. I live in the middle of nowhere with neighbors who all have children closer to my age than they are. The lack of social interaction can be crippling for me.

But these days, the world is a teeny tiny place. If I'm feeling angsty, I can whisper a tweet to friends in Florida, Ohio, New York, or even England (for goodness sake) and I feel much less alone.  I've never met one of them face-to-face but someday we dream of getting together like long-lost pen pals.

I can't imagine being as alone I am in the world without this kind of interaction. How did my mom do it? My grandmothers? I'm sure that time was spent on the phone, but it's different on social media. It's not necessarily real-time. It's more voluntary.

I can chose to read a message or reply when I'm ready. And vice versa.  If I call, it interrupts. And it's continuous. I can run around the house in between tweets and get other stuff done. Or not.

I spend enough time with these people that I feel safe with them even though it is quite possible we'd pass one another at the mall without a second glance. I know I can spout something to them and get an honest, sharp, and likely witty response.

It's special to me to have a support network of people that I trust to tell me that it'll be ok or to stop whining if the situation begs.

Social media gets a bad rap. The gossip, the back-handedness, the deceit.  The idea that people on twitter announce everything that they're doing at a given second "I just brushed my teeth."

This IS the case sometimes, but social media has connected people who would be fantastic friends if they weren't separated by geography and circumstance. Inclusion in a group is an important thing.

From Ice Age...
Manny:  'That's what you do in a herd, you look out for each other.' 
Sid:  'I don't know about you guys but we are the weirdest herd I have ever seen.'

Elastic lets you grow

Pregnancy was fun. I enjoyed it (well the second and third trimesters). I know some people who have been miserable the entire time. I wasn't. I loved having a life moving around inside me. I glowed. My hair was shiny (but fell out during pregnancy rather than after).

My favorite thing about pregnancy? Maternity clothes! Oh the stretchy loveliness of the preggo pants pouch! Ahh! Emergency runs to the bathroom - not a problem when you don't need to worry about belts or buttons or zippers! YAY!

Gone are the days of  tent clothes designed to "hide" pregnancy like my mom had to deal with.

My momma and I on Halloween a couple months before my brother was born.

How do you pack?

I've always been a heavy packer.

What if it rains? What if it's too cold? What if I spill something and I need to change my shirt four times?

And that's for a day hike - without the kid!

I'm learning, slowly but surely, through experience and a bum back that preparation (checking the forecast, for example) takes out some of those variables and lightens the load.  Yes, there are still variables and some things still might-maybe-what if happen. But I'm learning to roll with it.

A light load makes for a more enjoyable journey. I travel for work and I've found that packing light gets me in and out of the dreaded airport that much faster.

(See my post here to see how that plays with me in other ways.)

Packing for the worst-case scenario isn't always reasonable or optimal.

Yes, I'm sure it COULD snow in June...but do I pack a parka, mittens and hat??

I came to the realization that life is the same way. Why pack a heavier load - in weight, in toxic friendships, in responsibilities, in stress, in general?

Prepare yourself - physically, mentally, and emotionally through healthy eating, exercise, meditation and planning and let the rest slough off.

Living life worrying about the worse case scenario keeps you from enjoying a good or even great scenario.

Pack light and enjoy!

For a cause

Today, I'm donating my post for a cause.

(No, this is not a campaign to rescue the NFL from its own greed - even though the next Superbowl is scheduled for Indy)

I want every reader to go to Elizabeth Flora Ross's page and take the pledge if you haven't already.  It is a pledge to end bullying by moms against moms in the blogosphere.

We, as moms, need to stick together. Some may choose to wear their baby, nurse endlessly, co-sleep, and quit their jobs while others chose to feed their children formula, use the cry-it-out method, and rely on day care. And of course, the majority of us who have every single one of those descriptors at some point during their child's first year.

Regardless of your personal choice - you're a mom (or a dad). Your ultimate goal is shared - to raise the healthiest, happiest child you can - while maintaining some semblance of sanity.

There is no need to denigrate a parent for doing what they think is best because it's not the decision we chose.

We all need to consider the bigger picture of open-faced, one-sided judgment. It is bullying. We don't want our children to do it - so we must lead by example!!

So go! Pledge! Also, go to Facebook and join the pledge there!

Share the love ~ and have a happy weekend!

I've given myself homework

I know. I know. I bring it all on myself. 

If you don't want to do extra work, why in the hell would you start a new blog. And one that isn't a random rambling blog, but one that actually requires research and references and extra time?

Because I feel it is a niche that I can fill that isn't being addressed by others.

So what's the niche? 

My new blog is about accessible nature. Parents like to kick their kids out into the outdoors to play, to learn, to explore because they were kicked out of their house by their parents. Remember how FREAKING boring that got? Think about this generation with instant gratification and extreme levels of stimulus - how BORING must that calm nature seem? My argument is not to keep kids inside - or to send them out with their hand held games. It's to show them that there IS SO MUCH outside that you can't see it all at once. Bugs and birds and flowers and trees and mammals and reptiles and water and soil and how all of these all interact and depend on one another.

Why you? 

Because I spent 6 years going to college to learn to recognize, identify, and categorize the above creatures and their interactions. I earned two degrees that indicate that I know what I'm talking about. I worked two years running an intense research project studying ALL OF THESE THINGS. And because I am currently not using this information in any other way, and this, as with many skills, will be lost if I don't use it.

Are you just being a martyr for a cause that doesn't really need you?

No. I don't believe so. I think it important for people, especially teachers and parents, to have an extra ounce of information. Especially when dealing with children who are used to the at-your-fingertips information - it is essential for people to know what they might encounter when they step out the door, what equipment would be helpful to have along, or what to take a picture of to reference when the get back to a computer (or cell reception).

Are you abandoning this blog?

NO! My new site is family friendly, and I will still need a place to vent my crazy.


So where is this new site?

http://AdventuresInGnomeValley.wordpress.com

So go. Check it out, please. Share with your friends. I really think this is an admirable effort to bring the wonder of North American vegetation and wildlife to the forefront of the minds of our youth - via their parents.

A night like that

You know those nights after a long, crazy day...

One of those nights where you know you need to just go to bed, but you get caught up in conversation - refreshing, real conversation that doesn't involve locating a remote or discussing the texture of the baby's poo...

And you finally crash at midnight (as opposed to the planned 10:30) unwound from the day, happily snuggled into bed - and life in general...

Then at 2AM the baby wakes up and decides to BE awake and in various states of happiness, frustration, and cuddleness...for 3 hours...

Then you finally lay sandwiched between your sleeping husband and your sleeping baby (she was against the wall instead of between us - fyi) when you hear the noise...

The noise that sounds like it might be a tornado siren in the town out of your valley and 15 miles away...

And you lift your head to listen to see if you hear anything that remotely sounds like something you'd describe as freight train plowing straight for your house...

And you scare the ever living bejesus out of your husband who happens to wake and see your face hovering above his straining to see danger approaching through closed blinds...

And he tells you it's just the furnace running and rolls back over...

And you lay awake for another hour planning evacuation plans - A, B, and C - in case your roof gets blown off...

And then you fall asleep just in time for the baby to wake up and pluck at your eyelashes...

Have you ever had one of those nights??

Yeah, me neither...

My love, in writing

I'm inked.

Not as much as some, but more than others.

After an impulsive "baby dragon" tattoo incident paired with a sub-par cover up job - my rule is that I have to want a tat for a year before I can get it.

Before my daughter was born, I knew I would probably get some sort of tattoo for her. I just didn't know what.

With her name being Lily and my focus of study in college being herbaceous plants (read: wildflowers), a flower was my first choice. My favorite native lily is the trout lily.

Unfortunately, the trout lily is either white or yellow - not awesome tat colors. Between not being able to figure out an artful way to incorporate my trout lily into a tat and the nagging in my head of the trite use of her name to select a design...I abandoned that idea.

Then I friended Stay At Home Babe's Lerner on Facebook. I knew she was tattooed, and I stalked her lovely ink pictures.  She has the hand print of each of her two children on her back.  (See her post here in which she recently displayed her art.)

I was inspired.

Since I always carry Lily on my left hip, her hand had basically worn its way into my left shoulder blade. I asked her daycare teacher to take a hand print on her 1st birthday for me to use.

One of four of her 1st birthday hand prints

I chose her first birthday because it was such a milestone for the two of us. We had conquered quite a bit in the first year of our mother/daughter relationship. From colic, to illness, to depression, to weening just to name a few.  We used her birthday as a landmark of new things, new experiences, new life, and greater love.

In addition to the hand print, I had to incorporate my life motto "This little light of mine". See my post here where I delve into the meaning that song holds for me.

I gave this information to my new-found bestest-ever tattoo artist Kate at Bugaboo Tattoo in Hammond, IN.

It had been eight years since my last tat. It didn't hurt as much as it had before. Maybe childbirth raised my pain threshold.

Or maybe I just knew it would be worth every sting.

I'm going to miss my bed

I'll go for weeks without an issue sleeping.

Crash early. Wake late.

That is, if I'm at home.

I went to visit my mom this weekend, so that broke my solid sleep pattern.  It's not that I don't feel safe or warm or anything. It's just not my bed.

That and I was afraid to roll over on the air mattress for fear that I catapult Babygirl into the next apartment Looney Tunes style.

The main source of sleep bliss is that I haven't had to travel for work since early December.  In March, it starts back up.

Angsty prep for meetings with too many people. The dreaded mingling. Packing, unpacking. Planes, cabs. Ack!

Yes, I get a king size bed all to myself for some starfish action. No man, no baby, and no fur kids to lay claim on my bed.

That is exciting.

But, alas, I am a homebody at heart. I like the sounds and smells of home.


*sigh*

Driving Miss Baby

This weekend we went to stay with my mom.  She lives about two hours away - one hour highway, one hour interstate.

Two hours of driving is a good distance for me. I'm comfortable with interstate driving. I've got a newer safer car. The only variable (other than other drivers) is Babygirl.

I used to be able to time my long distance drives to avoid heavy traffic, sun in the eyes, optimal arrival times...now I drive when I think she'll sleep the soundest.  Sometimes, it just doesn't work out that way.

Friday afternoon, I picked her up from daycare a smidge early and hit the pavement. She'd had an afternoon nap, but not a great one.  Maybe - just maybe - she'll sleep.

Nope.

Leave me breathless

I am. THE most. Miserable. Person to share a bed with. (like real sleep)

Not that the person sharing the bed with me is miserable -- no, I am.

See, I'm a cuddler. I love to be close and snuggly. During waking hours.

When it's time to hit the hay, I need my space for slumber.  I don't mind contact while I sleep - I just can't stand being breathed on.

WHAT??

Revenge of the tiny bathroom

We have two bathrooms in our house. One in the hallway that is the kids/guest bathroom, and one accessible only via the master bedroom.


The hall/guest bath has a shower/tub. It's small. It's functional.

The master bath has a huge garden tub plus shower stall. It's huge, and we love it!

The guest bathroom has an inferiority complex, and it lashes out at our guests.

New addition to our family - without the swollen ankles

 We have a new member of our family...

A 2009 Jeep Compass!

(Yes, that is my glove in the pic - I wasn't about to go back out in the cold to re-take when I noticed it)

She's comfy and cozy (with heated seats!) - most importantly she's got 4 wheel drive! 

MSM is One Year Old!

(That's like 400 years old in internet years!)

For this post, I wanted to do a retrospective of what the last year has taught me...

• Being a mom makes me gush and gush and gush, but has pushed me to the brink of crazy to certified nut-so and into a therapist's chair - and that's ok.
• A struggle with my weight and self-image can be thwarted by  facing the challenge head on to see incredible results.
• Sometimes life just throws you curveballs, for example:

• Our house has no exception to the law of gravity...
• Stomach bugs don't always hit when you're at home...
• Telemarketers have bad days too...

It has been a crazy year - I wouldn't ask for a refund for any moment. 176 posts later, I'm still here writing - and by some twist of fate - you're still here reading.

And I thank you!

Ushering in a new YOU

New year's resolutions are funny.

In November and December, they sit comfortably in the future. Something to do on January 1st.  After the stuffing and mashed 'taters, gingerbread men, and champagne are all gone.  Then the new year comes.

Oh no. Now, you have to stick with it.  You've told one too many people.

You buy the gym membership or sets of dvds.  You get the gym shoes and matching workout clothes.  Matching sports bra, too.  No sense in working out if you don't feel good about yourself.

You. are. dedicated.  You do the workouts religiously.  You're sore, but it's good.  You're doing it!

Second week, you missed a couple workouts because your legs were crampy...your cute outfit didn't make it into the wash last night...you're busy.  Next week for reals.

Third week...um, I think the dvd is still in the player. No, wait, the kids wanted to watch their movie. Nevermind.

And it's gone.  Poof.

Clutter

I am surrounded by piles of nothing.

My office, my place of mental function and bread winning, is trashed.

Of course, instead of taking 20 minutes to find a home for our camping gear and purge piles of mail...I blog.

Yep. I know.

It doesn't help that the last communal (non-bedroom) closet in the house was just emptied last weekend to install our brand new (old, but refurbished) water softener.  No more sludgy, stainy water!!  It is crystal clear!!

But alas, the goods all spilled into my office, and I'm surrounded by the stuff we've moved 8 times from apartment to house to house to apartment... and never dealt with.  This "stuff" pile has gotten smaller over the years as we lost the massive storage space to convert that room into a nursery.

Selfishness in a crisis

The natural reaction to a looming threat is to take care of yourself and your family.

I get that.

You don't go and donate to Goodwill and do a Locks-of-Love ponytail when a huge ice storm threatens.  That's understandable.

When a weather system is on it's way throngs of people go to Walmart to make sure they've got diapers, salt, canned foods, and other essentials (read: alcohol and sweets) to make it through a potential stranding.