Cricket in a Biscuit

"What is the point?!" I would imagine most parents have thought — or yelled — this question more than once in their daily life. I was there today, wondering why I put in so much effort for what appears to be zero return. I had two objectives for the day: make a book bag for Laney to bring to story time at the library tomorrow, and fly kite with the kids. Sounds simple enough, but beginning a project seems to be the the cue for my normally independent and decently behaved children to turn into clingy little savages. They climbed on the table; ripped down the window shade; engaged in mortal combat over crayons, of which there is no shortage — trust me; and threw a half dozen whiny fits over stickers. All before lunch. After our lunch of sandwiches and twice-spilled milk, we walked to our perfect kite flying spot and had some fun. For a few minutes. As I was loading Grumplestiltskin in the stroller for an early trip home, I was wondering again, "What is the point?!...

When I grow up, I want to spin like her. The greatest disadvantage of being self-taught is, when stuck, there is no one around to go to for help. I found myself in such a position today trying to chain ply some yarn on the drop spindle. I've done it before but, for boring reasons I won't go into, was really struggling today. Finally, I dropped the spindle for the laptop. I learned to spin watching YouTube videos. It stood to reason I could find some much needed help there. And, boy, did I ever. I've seen a video by this gal before, and it was okay. This one is awesome! It was just what I needed to see. I love how she so casually throws her spindle around. What I'd give to be so proficient. Maybe someday. For now, I've got some plying to do.

Just how does an obsession start? Sometimes even an offhand mention can cast an inextinguishable spark. I just finished one of the coolest projects. Ever! The Icicle Hat , knit from yarn I spun myself. The goal was to utilize a plying technique to produce well defined cables, and it seems to have worked. Exciting! The wool for this project was purchased in January, but it's origins go back a little further than that. An elementary school friend of mine lived on a farm. In second or third grade, her mom spoke to our class about farm life, and she brought with her a drop spindle. It was huge! A couple feet long with a whorl 6-8 inches across. While she knew what it was for, it was clear hand spinning was not this woman's passion. She probably had more important things to worry about. Like, raising her kids and running the farm, for instance. Most likely, she wanted some type of visual aid and the spindle was easier to manage than a goat or some other livestock. I ...

Our first round of potty training was tough (and ongoing). Between starting too early, regression when Oliver was born, and "accidents" for attention, in addition to all the regular difficulties, it was stressful for everyone. So, I resolved to wait this time around. Oliver, however, had other plans.  A few days ago he became obsessed with the potty chair. I moved it out of sight, which only made him more desperate for it. I decided to humor him by sitting him down on it with his pants on. Not good enough. Wednesday afternoon, I gave in. When he got up from his nap, he was demanding the potty again. I set him up there, and he spent the next fifteen minutes laughing and doing his business. Between then and bedtime, he used the potty three more times, and whizzed on my floor once. The successes continue, but I have mixed feelings about the whole thing. First he gives up his pacifier, and now he's using the potty. He is growing much too fast. I've actually been w...

It seems Easter is becoming as commercialized as Christmas. Baskets are getting bigger and bigger as parents cram bigger – and more expensive – goodies inside. Well, I'm not buying it. Of course I picked up my favorite candy to steal from their baskets while they aren't looking, but I know the the best Easter gifts are often the simplest. My all-time favorite: a jump rope. One of those flimsy cloth numbers more suited to tying things up than their intended purpose. The plan was to make puppets for the kids, and I spent hours on ravelry finding just the right patterns. However, Laney's jacket took much longer than expected, and there just wasn't time. I knocked out a Slimey for Ollie in a hurry, but still had nothing for Laney. Months ago I had approached her about turning her beloved (read too small) teapot pajamas into a teddy bear. She was receptive, but I never got around to it. So, that's what I decided on. The problem was, her pj's are so well...

I'm not one of those parents averse to telling my kids no, but if there is a better way, I'm open to that as well. It may not be the most beautiful currency ever  issued, but she recognized the back as a DVD. The movie rule in our house was one a day, until I discovered Laney behaves much better when she watches no movies at all. And, with summer coming, I was pretty much resolved to curb the TV time anyway. The only thing unresolved was the best strategy. Inspiration struck while grocery shopping with the realization Laney is fascinated by the idea of paying for things. The hubby and I decided three movies per week was fair, so that Friday I issued my own currency. Three tokens per week which she can use to buy a movie. I had high hopes, even thinking it might teach her a lesson in budgeting. The only worry was how she would react once her tokens were gone. The first week played out pretty much as expected. She spent her money in the first three days. The fourth d...

Ever have one of those moments when you realize you're not quite as capable as you presumed? Yeah… about that. Tonight's supper required me to cut up a chicken, something I have never done, but I was sure I could handle it. About three sawing motions in, I realized I was in way over my head. You would think somewhere along the line I would have learned basic chicken cutting skills. My mom and step-mom cooked. I took home-ec. But, no. Totally frustrated, with the counter covered in slime, I briefly considered calling Darren in from the garage for help. But, by then, I was determined. And, I wanted no witness to my humiliation. Eventually the chicken made it into the pot, and I'm pretty sure, given a second chicken, I could do a more respectable job. Of tonight, though, all I can say is those kids better enjoy their supper.