I just found this on one of my bulletin boards and I have to say I'm pretty pissed.
Dairy producers violating organic milk standards from Blogging Baby
Since milk still is a large part of Michael's diet, it's the one thing that I always try to get organic. This is especially annoying because at least at my Acme, Horizon is cheaper than the others so I tend to buy it instead when I can't get up to Trader Joes.
...and Jenn is great, uh hun!
It's been an age, but here is the craft update you've all been waiting for. Lo and behold - it actually includes a finished object!
Clapotis
What's done, being watched over by the Alien Queen plush.
Detail
I've been working on this for the past few weeks here and there. I'm almost done the end of the paralellagram and in another couple of rows, I get to start dropping stitches. It's being knit from Patons Merino yarn that I dyed with Leaf Green paste food coloring (~300g yarn, 1 tsp. food coloring, 1 c vinegar). You can take a look at the pattern I'm using here.
Being the person that I am, when I choose to deface public property, I use a substance that is easily removable, and almost always tend to write, "Frodo Lives!"
Friday evening, we were hanging out in the fountain at Rittenhouse. There was a piece of chalk, it was due to rain buckets that night, so I went to work. A man, we'll just call him "Suit" walked up to me and we had this brief exchange:
Suit: Why are you writing on public property?
Me: (finishing up writing "FRODO LIVES" in 12 inch high block letters) Because it's chalk and it will rinse off in the rain tonight.
Suit: Outrageous! (storms away)
"Get a life", "You are such a geek" or even just a quizzical look I could understand because all were very apt to the situation. Righteous indignation over the scrawling of an esoteric motto from the sixties, in chalk on a public fountain is a bit much.
John: What are these?
Me: Tongs
John: (touching tongs to my chest) Tongs for the mammaries!
I don't think there is a reply for that.
We visited my friend and her son at their new house today. Michael was doing very well playing with her son - he's actually interacting with him and engaging in true parallel play which is a tremendous stride for him. At one point, I went down their basement to take a look and she was standing at the top of the stairs while we were talking about the potential of the space when I heard a car out front beeping its horn repeatedly. The rest is a blur, but apparently one of them (I insist it was mine and she insists it was hers) opened the front door and escaped onto the front street. I remember running up the stairs and down the street to scoop Michael up and bring him back to the house, thinking that I hoped the cats hadn't gotten out since I left the door open behind me. Once we were all safely ensconced in the house once more, my friend was definitely shaken. I just remember trying to find ways to laugh it off, saying that we just had to be more careful in future and insisting that it was probably Michael who started the whole thing.
The thing is that I have not been able to let this go all day. John called as soon as we got home and was aghast when I told him the story - I just thought it was funny, the boys were safe and no harm was done. As the day progressed I have been constantly questioning my response to the whole thing. Last summer, Michael escaped from the room where my mother's group was meeting. I remember looking around the room and my heart sinking down through the floor when I didn't see him. He managed to get down the hallway and was happily walking into one of the offices to pull books out of a box on the floor. From then on, I always try to be aware of where he is, especially with his tendencies to just take off in any direction. I have a few long skirts and I'm amazed at the speed in which I can hike them above my knees so I can chase after him, needing my full stride to keep up with him. A few weeks ago I went through the dilemma of using a tether on him because he still doesn't respond to his name and would dash out into traffic if given the chance (or he's giving every indication of doing so, I'm just not willing to test it yet).
My obsessive nature being what it is, I've been questioning myself all day about this - am I too cavalier about my child? On Saturday we put a box fan in the window to help cool the living room off and John expressed some concerns about Michael trying to stick his fingers in the mesh. I told him not to worry about it - if we made a big deal about staying away from the fan it makes it that much more attractive and the worst that could happen is his fingers would get bruised and he would definitely know not to do it again. On Saturday morning, we went to a playground and he picked up a piece of glass and I followed him closely to see what he would do with it - he actually put it in the trash can. I tend to watch and see, trying to reserve big reactions for things that really merit it so that he'll learn when I mean business. Sometimes it's a matter of I've had enough and as long as he's not actively destroying something of value or trying to ingest something poisonous, I'll let him do what he wants because I need a break. I've been finding myself questioning whether I'm being too lenient with him, using his delays as an excuse for permissive parenting.
I asked John what he thought about my reaction to the escape, once he overcame his own initial shock, and he was of the mind that I was being the calm, collected one - a role that I excel in playing. My mother told me that that is just the way I am, I tend to be very laid back about some things and this was just one of those situations, and one that my being freaked-out in would have only made things worse. Both arguments have merit, but still I obsess. There is no doubt that I love my child, that I would throw myself in front of a bullet for him. John even said that I was made to be a mother, that motherhood completes me in a way that nothing else in my life has. For whatever reason, I just feel like I reacted "wrong" and that I am "unnatural". I don't know - hopefully another glass of merlot will help me figure it out. Here's hoping that I don't have a hangover in the morning.
I am so happy that I am able to talk with my husband and that we communicate as well as we do with each other.
Thank you for making me the luckiest woman in the world, John.
I just want to get out of the house today but it's raining! Whaaaa!!!
I have all of this energy and a fervent desire not to spend any of it doing housework.
Ah, well - off to clean the kitchen and bake.
I have just completed my first twenty-four hours sans evil. It was a hectic day, stress-filled day. One that screamed, "Sit outside and have a smoke while the boy sleeps - you deserve it!” Instead I ate two brownies and the better part of a container of Pringles. I started this in some merino that I dyed on Monday in a spring/leaf green color. I'm still debating whether I'm going to keep it for myself or donate it to a silent auction for a fundraiser my mothers' group is doing. I think I should keep it - I don't have anything made for me that I dyed myself. I also spun for a good hour while Michael napped and that helped tremendously. I got my big box of roving on Tuesday, but I'm making myself use up the last of the roving I got from PhilCon. It's just taking forever because my singles are super thin - it will probably end up being between lace and fingering weight once it's done. As soon as I get my carding paddles, I can conquer the two pounds of locks that I bought from a shop in Jersey, but that is probably getting a bit ahead of myself.
I've been flirting with getting myself some Koigu yarn. I really want a pair of striped stockings for next winter and I figure if I buy two hanks a month for the next several months I'll be able to do it. What better way to celebrate my being nicotine-free than cool striped stockings! Thankfully, the hanks are pretty slim and easy to hide so John won't know that I'm breaking my vow to not buy any more yarn until I use up some of my stash (love you sweeitie!). We won't even mention the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival. Maybe I can work on my landlord to accept knitted items in lieu of rent for next month? It only counts as embezzlement if it's a business (or you get caught), right?
Michael has been turning the cuteness way up - an hour can't go by with you your being hit so hard with his cuteness that it practically knocks you over. He actually played with my friend's son yesterday and was talking to them this afternoon at lunch. He is just so incredible. Exasperating at times, with out saying, but still the best thing that has ever happened to me.
Off to bed...
I saw an ad for a Dunkin' Doughnuts breakfast sandwich. One of the bullets is, "Real American Cheese"
Yes, folks - we have the real processed cheese food - none of that fake stuff here!
It makes me wonder what fake American cheese is.
I popped onto my sister's computer yesterday to take a look at my blog. I typed in the address several time but couldn't get it to come up, then I went to one of my friends' blog and went in that way. Wouldn't you know I spelled the URL wrong when I created the blog and that every time I've typed it in an email or a message board post it's been wrong? Just one more reason why I shouldn't do things at 2 in the morning.
I'd buy this in a heartbeat.
Guess I'll just have to make one myself.
This topic has been coming up a lot on several of the boards and blogs that I read, so much so that I now have a small tempest brewing in my head that requires writing about it at quarter to one in the morning when I really should be asleep.
Discipline for Michael right now consists of redirection or removing him from the situation that's causing the problem. Even though he's twenty-one months old, he's somewhere between twelve and forteen months developmentally, so I make it a point to react to him as such. This was a hard lesson for me to learn, lowering all of my expectations to what he's actually capable of doing. This has made my life so much easier and I believe his as well.
Since we still have a ways to go for other discipline methods to be appropriate for him, it's not something I've spent a lot of time reading up on. I've always know that I wanted to follow positive discipline methods - I never want my children to be afraid of me or John.
When I was twelve, I had a paper route. It was just the local weekly paper, probably about 30 houses on the route. Somewhere along the line, things got too much for me. My method of dealing with this was to ignore it - I stopped delivering and collecting and spent all of my energies hiding this from my parents because I didn't know how to say I wanted to quit. I had been threatened multiple times about getting my act together and was given many chances to redeem myself with the paper route or face ever worsening punishments. The threat that came before the paper finally talked directly to my mom was spanking, by my dad, with the belt. I can't remember where I was in the house when I heard her on the phone, but once I realized what was happening I got out of there as quickly as possible because my dad was home at the time. I ran out of the house, no shoes on, and rode my bike down to the park and hid until I knew he had left for work. I still got spanked, but by my mom who was nowhere near as bad as my dad would have been.
John brought home a copy of Blankie by Leslie Patricelli a month or so ago. We've read several of her other books to Michael and I've always enjoyed them. This book has a line in it about how "Blankie" stays with the child in time-outs. The first few times I read it, I didn't really think of what I was reading. Then I realized that it really bothered me - the child in the illustrations looks like a baby, and he's being made to have time-outs? So I started substituting other words, "Blankie sits on the steps with me." It's now gotten to the point that I don't even want to read it anymore because I am so bothered by it.
I expressed this to John a few weeks ago and he couldn't understand what the fuss was about, he'd just assumed we'd be using time-outs like everyone else (when Michael is old enough for them obviously). I had a hard time explaining to him why I didn't want to use this form of discipline, or punative discipline in general. He called me from work this afternoon to ask me if I had read Dooce yet - there was something funny that I sould take a look at. I read yesterday's entry and my skin is still crawling from it. I told him that I really didn't like what they were doing and again stated that I don't want to use time-outs as a form of discipline. He seemed honestly confused and couldn't understand why we wouldn't use them. To me they are no different in intent to spanking and serve to show the child that love and attention are conditional. Removing a child from an overwhelming situation and giving them some room to calm down is one thing, telling a child they have to sit still or leaving them alone for an arbitrary period of time until they are contrite is completely different.
I have serious heebie-jeebies right now. I think I'm going to spin for a bit and see if I can work my way through it. I'd talk with John about it, but he just went in to sleep with Michael so that's out. What a can of worms.
Saw this on Baby Likes Cabbage and had to do it.
| You Are 26% Evil |
 A bit of evil lurks in your heart, but you hide it well. In some ways, you are the most dangerous kind of evil. |
to get my craft things in order:
So that when the bug bites me in the ass to make something I can actually do it!
I organized things (read: dumped them in boxes) before Michael was born and most of it hasn't been touched since. John has further complicated things by cleaning (read: pile my assorted boxes in a closet). I can find the c-clamp for the pasta machine, the pasta machine, and the handy attachment for making spaghetti and linguini. What I cannot find is the damned crank to make all of these things work together. I did find my extruder and by some miracle the box that has all of the dies in it, so I can make what I want to tonight - it's just going to take longer and not look nearly as cool.
Off to condition clay...
Do not start organizing your yarn stash at 10pm and take an hour break to surf and blog. I'm not sure if I'm even going to bother going to sleep at this point - John is going to be furious with me.
We keep NPR playing softly on a radio in Michael's room at night. At midnight, they switch over to the BBC feed - nothing like listening to a glib British voice proclaiming it's 7am GMT at 2 in the morning. Last night, this is what I heard:
(mumble) Benedict (mumble, mumble, mumble) Vatican City
For whatever reason, my mind inserted the name "Dirk" in front of "Benedict" and I was wondering what the actor who played "Face" on The A-Team was doing in Vatican City and why the BBC was reporting on it.
I fixed the problem with the Haloscan.
I've also decided to enter The Sock Yarn Stash of Epic Proportion! contest on Wendy Knits!. Here's my letter saying why I am deserving of some of her stash:
I should receive some of your sock yarn stash because I rarely knit anything for myself and I have very few socks and would love the opportunity to change that. A few months ago, I purchased a set of sock needles from my local craft store, but their selection of sock yarn is abysmal so they just sat and sat. I've since discovered several local yarn shops and as much as I love to colors of yarns available, I just can't get past the sticker shock of something that is just for me. So I sigh, pat it lovingly and visit it every few weeks. Besides, you could be secure in the knowledge that socks knit from your yarn are being worn with sandals by a quirky woman in Philadelphia who will not only love the fact that she is wearing socks with her sandals, but that she has such cool socks because of a very cool knitter.
Also, my 21 month-old has not yet had the chance to pull very thin needles out of my knitting and I would hate to deny him what every child should be able to do - remind me why I use two circulars and that I need to knit after bedtime.
...and messing with things best left for daytime. Sorry things are looking a bit of a mess. I'll try to fix it in the morning.
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