Friday, May 27, 2011

It's Good To Know I'm Not Alone.

This is going to be a wordy one my friends; once again reminding you to be careful what you wish for.

I haven't posted anything in well over a month and in reviewing my last post I mentioned that it was going to be a busy week. Well, I guess I meant month.

Yesterday and today I have been purging my basement. ie. Attempting to purge to the best of my Pisces ability, or perhaps to the best of my 'Sentimental/Relaxed Messy' ability. I apologize to my knitting friends who inherited some of my yarn. (They did seem pretty happy about it though.)

My purging however went beyond yarn, in fact yarn is playing a very small part in this round of 'tidy up the basement'. What has prompted me to post today is something that I wrote...just for the sake of writing (long hand) on August 24, 2001. After reading this and then this and then coming across my ramblings, I felt that, once again, I was being sent a message that was not to be ignored.

So here goes; I will copy it unedited as it was written that August afternoon so long ago...

I am a Mother.
Who should I submit article to?
Today I was really trying to be the mother that I thought I would be and the one that so infrequently is seen by my children.
So I made my 4 year old the "Triple -Decker-Super-Duper-Peanut-Butter-and-Jam-Sandwich" that he requested. I said, "Yes, you can finish your sister's Kraft Dinner."
And then I said, "Here's the bag of candy from the Birthday Party---have the piece of gum last."
I had smiled and thought, 'he must be growing a couple of inches today' as he ate the sandwich.
I let go of the "Enforcer" part of me and let him have the candy at will, because, 'surely, nobody else is this regimented'...I still have Halloween, Christmas and Easter leftovers, because there's so much and it seems I allow so little...and I got a Tootsie-pop out of the deal---he shares well.

I am a Knitter.
I have been knitting for 18 years. (like I said, unedited)
My grandmother tried teaching me a couple of times when she came to visit, but I didn't keep it up after she left.
One of my life disappointments is that she didn't live long enough to see me and my knitting---although I do believe she does see.
My mother sat down and showed me again how to knit...but I say to anyone contemplating teaching...yes, everyone who's going to learn must start with knitting, but don't let them go away without PURLING!
Nothing can turn off a potential knitter more than working at GARTER STITCH...it has it's place, but showing someone the beauty of stocking stitch sets a whole world of colour and warmth before them!
My inspiration to take up the craft came from a high school friend's mother...is is now MY dear friend. She was constantly knitting, I mean it...always sitting in the same chair with a HUGE wicker basket...the kind a snake would be charmed from...full of sweaters and/or yarn at some stage of production
She had sweater sales and I modeled some of her creations for the 'sweater shoots'. She has moved from that house where I was inspired and lost virtually all her material possessions...including and amazing "STASH" of yarn (it smoldered for 2 days after the fire) and a beloved family cat.
She still continues to have sweater sales, at 70 years young and continues to enter sweaters in fall fairs. She has been 'suggesting' that I enter some of my creations, for years and finally in 2001, I agree. [Why would I pick now?! I have 2 children, aged 2 and 4, my husband has his own business that we run out of our home.]

I am a Nurse.
Then he comes to me chewing his precious Trident Bubblegum and says, "I want to play outside now", turns and chokes on his own spit. We've all done it. It goes down the wrong way and we cough. I asked him if he was O.K? He turned to me shaking his head no. He was coughing and breathing, so I really wasn't too worried.

So there I sat, while my 2 year old napped, doing some finishing work on a sweater for my brother that I planned to enter in the fair.

Now, this is where my priorities get a little fuzzy I think.

Sean came up to me coughing and gagging. (He was born with a gag reflex about 2" away from his lips! Only those who actually saw this child gag and vomit can fully appreciate the minimal amount of warning before Mt. Vesuvius erupted!) And as the first wave overcame him my hand went up to catch the gum and whatever else came with it, and the words out of my mouth were...

"Not on the sweater!"

O.K., so who should I submit this article to? Mother of the year or Knitters Anonymous?

But wait...There's more!

He's fine. He apologizes for throwing up..."and it's a good thing I didn't throw up on the sweater!"

So, I had to put down the sweater during this precious nap time, to clean up puke! And as I get to return to my knitting the phone rings because somebody can't find a quote that we 'think' my husband left there, but I can't check with him because he's out of town for the night working on a cottage and his phone doesn't work up there! (This is where my sentence structure falls apart, but let's face it...Life IS a run-on sentence!) And with that phone call---my daughter wakes up---early. But you know, advice to young mothers: She was fine in her crib; so I finished the darn Duplicate Stitch! But, didn't get to block.

But you know, that was only lunch and the next 2 hours. There was the morning too; which looking back wasn't that bad...

My daughter who is days away from turning 2 decided to remove her dirty diaper, carry it upstairs to the bathroom to throw the poop in the toilet (her baby sitter does this) and flush, 'Bye-Bye poop!' Cute, nice, no major disaster there...I was in the shower. Sean came running up a few minutes later to tell me the whole story; I told him it was fine..."But, mom there's one poop still there!" He went to his room and wouldn't come out till I cleaned up the poop and then it was safe!
I am a mother=I clean poop and puke.
And I got 90's in math.

I am a wife.
I am very lucky. I married a loving, good, hardworking man. With a good sense of humour. Here's more advice for anyone who might actually read this: Choose a partner with a sense of humour. Life is full of too many disappointments and too much hard work not to be able to find the humour in it. I think that if you have a sense of humour you can see the lighter side of the "Life that happens when you're busy making plans."

Wow. I had forgotten a lot of that story and I'm struck with how much has stayed the same and how much has changed. I've spent the past 2 days down here trying to gain some sense of control over my life because with parenting right now, I'm not feelin' it. But any frustration I'm feeling right now doesn't hardly compete with poop and puke...although now I'm dealing with Boxers and Bras!
Little people; little problems. Big people; big problems.
Really though, the problems aren't big at all; it's more about how I'm handling the 'discussions'. My avoidance method of choice? You guessed it...KNITTING!!!

There's my post. A blast from the past. Maybe next time there'll be pictures.

3 comments:

irememberpasta said...

I like the way your write about motherhood without sugar-coating it. So real. Your grace and humour about the poop, vomit and triple-decker sandwiches helps me feel less lonely and keeps me coping when I feel I can't. Thank you.

thatdarncat said...

You're not alone. Mothers know about puke and poop.
Your Grandmother (and your Mom) would be proud of your knitting, and of your kids.

patty-anne said...

I raise 5 sons and a daughter.. who loved finger painting with poop. I am a widow, knitter and spinner. When I got my first knitting machine, I stabbed myself so many times, my son observes" I didn't know knitting was a blood sport. " Are you the sister I never knew I had. Merry Christmas
http://patty-anne-lea.blogspot.com