Curves and Confidence (Part Two)

This post contains content that may be considered inappropriate for those under 13 years of age.

Leave it to my husband to minister to a stripper. We’re not like other Christians that draw the lines where society does and say that it’s in the name of Jesus. We understand that God, who knew us before we were, knows that we’re screw ups and isn’t going to kick us out of the house for spilling the milk (and honey) so long as we apologize and mean it. That’s basically what we say to non-believers that have met nothing but Bible beaters of the Christian religion. continue

Curves and Confidence (Part One)

cling

This post contains content that may be considered inappropriate for those under 13 years of age.

I stepped over the streams that sprung out from the gutters over the sidewalk on my way to the back of the building where Edward was waiting to pick me up from work. I tiptoed my wet, heavy hiking boots into the passenger side and then crammed my breast pumps and work gear over my feet and cracked a few jokes, and at Ed’s insistence leaned in to kiss him. “Alice says I need to take you to a strip club tonight.” He glanced at me in between making turns. I imagined our tires crunching over the wet asphalt and calculated our speed and acceleration in correlation with the other vehicles in the lane we turned into. I’m guilty of back-seat driving from the passenger side, but I’m silent about it. continue

Paradise and Chess

The “monster in-laws”, as Danielle calls them, are at it again. They’re making another attempt to tear apart the charity. They managed to trigger a large split last year, thankfully we recovered since then, and because of it grew stronger. Now we find ourselves searching for the next move in this game of chess. It was mentioned that I had said under oath that Alice was not pregnant. I feel sick. I don’t want my words to be the obstacle in the way of regaining custody of our daughters. Because of the stress and sleep deprivation, I sincerely forgot, and remember thinking, “funny they’re not asking me about Bailey.” I know they will use this to trap me on the next round.

I hate this anxiety. I hate this fear. And I want my memory back as it was.

I want to dream, and feel like anything is possible. I want to go back to school, maybe enroll in that coding class downtown. I want the whole family to move north into a large house at the side of a lake, where we have a sailboat and a tree house and a massive garden of vegetables and flowers and herbs.

As it stands, I don’t even fully trust anyone anymore. I never truly trusted Taylor, but at the same time she became so close to my family and has caused so much harm for us that I don’t want to share anything because of the risks, but I’m human and need to be able to confide in others. This blog is an amazing outlet, but I know that someday, though I don’t know when, my haven will be intruded upon and will become part of the battleground. Even now I suspect that they have a hired investigator weeding through my posts for some ammunition. After all, they’ve already tried to have my trash admitted as evidence.

I Won an Award!

A huge thank you to Kaboodlemum for the nomination for Very Inspiring Blogger. A small bit of my dream has been realized, and it is amazing to find that someone thought I was deserving of such an award!

Ooh, pretty!

The rules.

  • Thank the person who nominated you and add a link to their blog.
  • Display the award in a blog entry.
  • List the award guidelines so your nominees will know what to do.
  • State 7 hidden facts about yourself.
  • Nominate other blogger friends for the award.

It’s hard to think of seven things about myself that I haven’t shared yet that are worth sharing.

  • I love to travel, and have been able to travel a good bit before this court case. When we win I’d like to get back to it, and go to Japan.
  • Besides knitting and photography, I also like to make jewelry (not the silly beading stuff, but the legitimate metal welding kind) and floral arrangements. I’ve even been certified as a florist, but I lost my paper. I hope I’m still in the database at least.
  • I dream of sailing, which I’ve been able to dabble with in fresh water, and having a motorcycle, preferably a Harley sportster.
  • I have one sister, a half-sister I’ve never met, and three step siblings. I don’t have any ongoing relationships with any of them, so even I forget.
  • One of my favorite bands is Icon for Hire. I was blessed to have the opportunity to meet the band in person, and I secretly wish to actually get to know the band members better.
  • My favorite weather is stormy or overcast, preferably warm (I like fifties to seventies Fahrenheit).
  • The ‘company’ that Edward and I work for is actually a charity that we started. If it’s necessary I may go into more details later on. It’s such a modest living though that I work a second job.
  • Um, one more… I really like astronomy.

I want to nominate Ian Bush, Charlotte, and Mommy Man

I find Mommy Man to be an inspiring read for his experiences he shares as a ‘Gay Superdad’. Someday I’ll get the book, too.

I’ve been inspired by Charlotte E. Wilde for her aesthetic writing style. I’ve always wanted to write like she does, but I’ll be content just to read it.

Ian Bush has been inspirational for me with his unique perspective in writing. I see it as unconventional and real, and can’t think of anywhere that I’ve seen content like it.

The (Little) Enterpreneur

baby toys

Gary wants to learn how to knit. I think he has this admiration of being able to make something when he watches me struggling with a teething toy I’m working on for Guinevere. Maybe instead it’s that copy-cat thing kids have. “She’s doing it, so I want to do it, too.” Either ways he’s asked if I could teach him how to knit. He’s a nine year old boy, so I’m not sure he has the patience to hold still and carefully insert a needle through a small loop of yarn that already has another needle in it over and over again, especially not if it requires him to count and hold still. But I’m not going to discount his ability, and I bet if I got him off on the right track (chunky yarn and big needles with small projects he’s going to love) he may stick with it. Still, I finally have $14 skeins of yarn and I’m not going to let him touch it. So, under the condition that he has his own materials, I agreed to teach him.

“How much are knitting needles?”

“It depends on what kind you get and from where. You can get them pretty cheap at Walmart. There’s DPNs, which are these, and then you have the regular needles.”

“How much is yarn.”

“It depends. What kind of yarn?”

“Like the one you are using.”

“I got this on sale for four dollars, but it’s usually closer to ten. But if you get a yarn ball this big of acrylic yarn (it’s called a skein) it’s like two, three, maybe four dollars.” He got excited and pulled out a pizza box and colored pencils and drew up a sign so he could sell handmade portraits in the front yard. He usually makes money off his cute face more than anything, but being artistic women the Ladies all pitch in what skills he could use to improve his art.

“I’m going to offer portraits in color or black and white.”

“Do you know how to shade?”

“Not really.”

“Then I would recommend sticking with color, you can’t really sell just an outline.”

“Well, I kinda know how to do shading; Ma’am showed me a little bit.” Ma’am is Alice, that’s a story for another time.

Apparently he wants to make a T-shirt and shorts for the dog. I recommended a smaller project first and explained that the satisfaction of having made something will help him to get through a bigger project. He asked if Seamus was easy to make. I believe that Seamus is easy enough for a boy his age.

If you would like to see the pattern, you should check out my Ravelry account I just started. You can also see the pattern for the toys that are pictured.

Our dog needs a name, be the first to name her in the comments below!

Coming Soon

No, this is not a knit flower.

I took a break for one weekend in celebration of my birthday. I didn’t take the day off of work, so we celebrated Sunday when everyone could get together. I had still been fighting postpartum depression, and I think being surrounded by people who support me and my family cured me.

The next day Danielle took me to that bookstore we’d been intending to go to since we met. I had been going through my obsessive knitting phase and so scoured the shelves for knitting, as well as for crocheting not because I can but because people mix up those arts and the books along with it. I searched through and through the clearance shelves and was greatly disappointed. Not a single pattern that truly stood out to me as something I wanted to do- I’d had more luck on Pinterest by far. Danielle on the other hand found some vinyls for her record player.

Afterwards we went to a yarn store I adore simply because it has more than acrylic yarn. She told me to pick some out as my birthday present, and with a teething toy in mind I picked two small skeins of cotton. She kind of went through the rest of the store and asked, “What about this one? Here, this one too. You’ll want more of this one in case you run out, right?” She added more and more to the rubber bucket that was given to us, and the toys I designed in my head became more dynamic, with more textures, shapes, pieces, colors…

That evening I finished up an owl I had started for Guinevere to free up my needles. The owl pattern I used needs some tailoring and clarification, and I found another neat pattern to put to use a yarn that I never would have chosen for myself. Therefore, stay tuned for a link to a Ravelry account I clearly need to start.

Happy Mother’s Day

I think this is an appropriate photo for Mother's day.

I have ten going on twelve kids. However, when I hear, “Happy Mother’s Day” I think, “oh gosh, my mother…” and I make a bet she’s going to text me, despite that on my birthday I had told her that I (reasonably) did not want to hear from someone that was trying to take my children.

I don’t want my emotions to be ruled by a holiday, the same way that my mother would think, “oh gosh, my mother” as we prepared flowers if she and my grandmother were on talking terms. I respect that Mommy Man also does not allow for Mother’s Day to dictate how he should feel, celebrating “Other’s Day” in pride of his family. So I will condition myself to think of the joys of motherhood that I and many others around me are experiencing or preparing for. Happy Mother’s Day, Alice, Bailey, Daisy, and all the mothers in my life, mothers whose blogs I follow, and mothers who follow my own. I especially want to acknowledge the mothers that support their children and truly love them for who they are and not who they wish them to be. I feel that the difference makes all the difference.

I am a mother. I recognize that there is a possibility that the culture of my generation and my daughter’s may be as different as, or more so, than mine and my mothers, and maybe we will have disagreements just as large (I’m a realist, and sometimes a pessimist, so my mind goes there). I will be proud that she stands for what she believes in, even if it is against me, and I will not stand in the way of what makes her happy.