Playoff Blues

Who even cares about football anyway?


Sure, there were some amazing plays. A couple of sweet interceptions, a sack that we could have used earlier in the game (but I guess when you’re already in overtime, you can’t call it anything but “late,” and that is definitely better than “never”), and the fact that we opened each half with an amazing kickoff-reception-turned-touchdown. There were some mistakes. Some conservative punts instead of risky go-for-its on fourth down. A couple of barely missed interceptions by our defense that could have ended the game right there.


It was an exciting game. Neck and neck the whole way. The rules for game ties during the regular season changed recently: if a tie still existed at the end of the first overtime, that was the score and everyone went home. I glanced at my husband when the time clock read, “OT 1:49” and asked, “What if there’s a tie at the end?” He shook his head at me, answering succinctly, “unlimited quarters until somebody scores.”


I was putting my daughters to bed when it ended. I walked into the room, and said, “What happened?!” “We lost. They kicked a field goal,” my husband reluctantly reported. I responded with the requisite grunt of defeated disgust: “Uunghhr!”


“Where do they go now?” my mostly-NFL-illiterate brother asked. My husband replied, “Nowhere,” at the same time that I shot back, “To the locker room. Until next season.” My brother cringed.


I don’t even care who goes to the Superbowl now.


Because I mean, who even cares about football anyway?

Crafty Management

Some crafting hobbies are more manageable than others.

For instance, everything I need to support my crocheting habit fits in one box. It’s full of yarn. The crochet hooks that I use are all in their own little pouch, and the darning needles that I have for fastening ears to hats or lashing granny squares together are clipped to the pouch that holds the crochet hooks by a couple of clothespins (which I use as stitch markers). Most of the patterns I use come from online, and I only occasionally print them out, if they’re too complicated for me to figure out with only an occasional glance at the instructions. From what I understand, this is very minimalistic for someone who works with yarn on a regular basis.


The stuff I use to make cards is all in a tiny box, plus one other tinier box, and I’ve used it recently, so it’s within reach if I need it, say, to make invitations to a college graduation party.

My necklace making stuff is a bit more spread out. That’s mostly because I haven’t worked with it for many years have moved it three times without organizing it. There are boxes of beads here, and boxes of beads there, a bag of embroidery floss with some hemp cord in it in one place and a half finished hemp necklace with the beads I was planning to add to it in another place.


The polymer clay I used to work with is all in one briefcase-style box, where I last left it after making a few beads in high school. At least I know where it all is.

But I have no idea how scrapbookers do it.

My mom acquired a box of scrapbooking materials, and knew that I sometimes use that kind of think for making cards. We dug through it together, and it was a treasure trove: two packages of 4 x 6 photo paper, scrapbooking glue, some nice pens, a cool cutting tool, a large set of crayola colored pencils (coloring! eee!), two photo albums, and a mountain of paper and fancy stickers. There was even a pretty nice briefcase-type filing box, which I assume that the original owner was planning to make use of as an instrument of organization. I managed to stuff most everything into it, except the photo albums. Now two thirds of my dining room table is laden with scrapbooking stuff.


When I work with yarn, I can usually keep it from becoming a huge ordeal. A skein nearby, whatever I’m working with and the hook I’m using in my hand, maybe the laptop or a pattern nearby. Usually I can put it down and come back to it whenever my young family demands it.


When I’m working on cards, I have to have paper, tape, scissors, ribbon, pens, and whatever else might be necessary spread out all over everywhere. It’s hard to leave it for a minute, because if I’m not watching closely enough, a tiny person might go and make it an even bigger mess than it already is. It’s almost easier to plan everything out ahead of time, get it all done at once, and then put everything away.


I think the cleanup and storing process is one of the reasons my craftiness is currently leaning in the yarn direction at the moment. I’ve had an idea for a scrapbooking style project for several months, but I’ve been content to leave it hibernating in the early planning stages, because, in my experience, scrapbooking is super messy.


How do scrapbookers do it?

Autopilot: Engage!

One of the coolest parts about living back in my hometown is the nearness of my family. My brothers and I live very close to one another; we can get together whenever we want, eat each other’s leftovers, and adore nieces and nephews. My parents (perhaps in a desperate attempt to protect their leftovers) live across town, but that doesn’t mean I see them any less than I see my brothers. In fact, I probably see them more.


Your body learns and remembers the things that you do all the time: signing (or typing) your name, riding a bicycle, or dancing the Electric Slide. I go to my parents’ house several times a week, so I can pretty much do it on autopilot. Sometimes it’s tough for me to remember to make a stop on the way there if I need to put gas in my car or get my mom bag of marshmallows or something. My limbs are so used to me getting where I’m going that by the time I realize that I’ve forgotten the marshmallows, I’m usually a block from my destination.


When I’m driving, I let my mind wander. I look at billboards and bumper stickers and license plates. I think about chores I need to do and things I could write about and whether I need to wash my children in the near future. I don’t worry about a precise turn or missing an exit, because the car knows where it’s going. My inner autopilot gets me where I need to go.


And since I usually forget to grab lunch because of it, I’ll often end up eating whatever leftovers my mom has in the fridge.

Stockpile

Why don’t I have a potato masher?!


Kids don’t think about living on their own much, especially when their parents are the ones who care for them. They don’t think about how they’ll lay out their living room, how they’re going to pay for the cable bill, or how long it will take them before they have bay leaves in their spice cupboard. When they get out on their own, sometimes they’re surprised that they have to think about all of these things.


Before I moved into my first place, my mom and I went shopping. We found me a dish set, a silverware holder, and even some forks and spoons. I made more macaroni and cheese boxed dinners in that apartment than any other kind of food (put together), and since then I’ve been trying to expand my kitchen supplies to get even close to the fully stocked-ness that my mother enjoys.


Despite having a Pampered Chef party for my bridal shower, I my kitchen still doesn’t measure up to my mother’s. Although I do love the awesome stuff I got there: my bamboo cutting board, pizza stone, and various other things.

My general mode of operations since then has been to purchase things as I need them. If I find a recipe that I really want to try that uses an ingredient or tool that I don’t have yet, I go out and get it. If I want to make something but don’t have a specific recipe and don’t want to go out, I search for a recipe until I find one that uses ingredients that I already have in the house.

I asked for (and received) spatulas for Christmas. It’s been nice having more than one recently, I don’t have to immediately wash the one I have in order to be able to scrape something else.


I've had lots of time and opportunity to improve the state of my kitchen, but instead I’ve been letting it happen gradually, which has been okay so far. As long as I plan ahead.


Now all I have to do is decide whether I want to use a fork or a wooden spoon to mash these potatoes.

There Is No Spoon

I set the bowl of mashed carrots and cereal on the table, then went back to separate the remaining carrots into meal sized portions for later. I returned to my three year old saying, “she’s not a big girl,” and my ten month old with the bowl tilted toward her, food everywhere, like a scene out of a Disney movie.

I would recommend making your own baby food. I’ve never purchased any for my children. I’ve always had a perfectly good blender and the ability to cook fresh or frozen vegetables or open a can. It’s way cheaper than buying tiny jars of stinky “food.” And the best part is I know exactly what the ingredients are without having to squint at a minuscule list: [vegetable of choice], water. And my kids like it.


They like it enough to do a mashup of Beauty and the Beast and The Matrix.


There is no spoon.

Does This Blog Make Me Look Fat?

I dislike fishing for compliments.


I have never understood people who ask questions like, “do these pants make my butt look big?” They don’t really want to know the answer to that question, all they want is a response praising their figure.


I understand the need for compliments. Every once in a while when I work my butt off making a delicious dinner or do all the laundry in one fell swoop or get a workout while sweeping and mopping the entire house, I will tell my husband that he has a totally awesome wife. That way, he can echo my praises, or if he chooses, he can remain silent. Even if he doesn’t chime in, I’ve at least received the compliment that I gave to myself.


Occasionally I do catch myself asking my husband ambiguous questions about the way I’m dressed, or how I look. At those times, I try to clarify what kind of answer I want from him: does the color look okay on me, is the outfit appropriate for the occasion, that sort of thing. But then I stop and think about it a bit. I ask myself if I really do need someone else’s opinion, or if I just want him to tell me I look nice. If I need a self-esteem boost, I will tell him straight out what to say to me: “Tell me I look pretty.” 

Because my husband is not a woman, he is not paying attention as closely as I am to the way I have attired myself, and usually he honestly does not care. He’s not ignoring me or being malicious in any way, it’s just not how he thinks. And really, I’d rather have it that way, since I wouldn’t want to have him thinking less of me on the days I feel like lazing around in my pajama pants.


And sometimes a girl’s just gotta rock the pajama pants. At least I make them look good.


Right?

Time to Crochet! Week THE END

My daughter’s birthday was a wild success. My wonderful father in law provided us with a beautiful handmade toy chest, and I filled it with hand me down toys from my aunt and cousin, things I found in the $1 bins at Target, awesome stuff I used to play dress up with as a kid, and the hats that I made for her over the last few months.

She was thrilled. Things were tossed all over the floor by the time we were done, even with my best efforts to keep the playslposion contained. The best part was when she gasped, grabbed the tiger hat (the source of all sorts of frustration on my part) and shoved it on her head, exclaiming, “Thank you, Mommy!”


Hard work? Worth it.

Speaking of hard work, there’s nothing more strenuous to take on than a photo shoot. You’ve got to hire a photographer and crew, rent or buy all of the equipment, set up a location, and then there’s permits and a million other things to worry about. So instead I grabbed a sheet out of my daughters’ bedroom, tossed it over a chair, and went “click, click, click” with my little Canon PowerShot. In my very unprofessional photos, you’ll see the modeling talents of the roll of paper towels that I’m currently using. I’m sure it’ll be a short lived career. I do have a couple of little faces that need cleaning pretty often.

I’ve finally got pictures of all of the projects, but it’s pretty hard to make 8+ pictures look nice in one blog post, unless the post in question happens to be pretty lengthy. If you really want to check out the rest of the pictures (zebra, piggy, lamby & party hats), they’re up on my Ravelry account.