hiatus

We are unplugging the internet over here.
It's not because we dislike the internet,
but because we like other things more.
Things like, say, owning our home, heating our home, eating.
You get the picture.
If you miss me terribly, you can email me *the*dayton*time*at*gmail*dot*com.
Or if you have my number, you can give me a call or text me a little love note.
And I will check into the effbooks from time to time.
I will also be paying attention to my etsy shop every few days.
Be well, y'all.

this is what's up

Moved furniture yesterday. And still today. Gah. It is taking two days because every time I think I am finished sweeping and vacuuming, someone dumps something vile or crumb-filled on the floor. Or furniture. Or someone needs to eat. Or have a diaper changed.

And sometimes I need a break because OH MY GOODNESS IT IS BLOODY EXHAUSTING UP IN HERE.

My biggest baby turned nine this week. Woah.

My smallest baby is in love with mashed potatoes.

My washing machine is either broken or possessed by a wicked demon. It beeps continually, and plays dead in the middle of a cycle. Good times... THAT WILL COST ME A BAJILLION DOLLARS.

My iPad recognizes the word BAJILLION, but not the word WOAH.

I took all four of my people to the dentist in their pajamas yesterday. There was more than 65% refusal rate, and I was not going to be charged with a cancellation fee, so pajamas it was. I'm going to count that as a win, because, well, I can.

I found a Craigslist post for a whole lot of wool fabric. I think I will buy it to make coats for the boys.

My third babe likes to dress monochromatically. Today it's red. Red sweater (no alligator) and red corduroy pants. Usually it's yellow.

The fourth and final child has been tormenting the cats lately. I tend toward natural consequence-style parenting, and I have not stopped the cats from slapping him with their claws out. And the beating he is taking from the cats is not stopping him from beating the cats. Hmmm.

We are dyeing play silks later today, and a cashmere sweater-pants-cap set that I made from a slightly hole-y cardigan. Then we will make pizza and watch The Wizard of Oz. And then maybe some Harry Potter. And maybe some popcorn.

Also and finally? I want some slipcovers for my furnitures.

That is all. Carry on.

is this thing on?

I haven't had much to say.  Really. 

The weather has been gorgeous. I did a lot of sewing and knitting. We schooled and unschooled and field-tripped. The Mister is enjoying his dream job, and we have been enjoying having him at home two days a week now that Christmas is over. 

Jack has taken to wearing one of two black hooded sweatshirts constantly, inspiring Henry to wear any of my wool sweaters that he can squirm inside fastest. Elliott? Well, he would prefer to get dressed and never, ever change his clothes, NOT! EVER! And speaking of not ever? That never changing his clothes is not ever going to happen.

It's odd to have started a hibernation of sorts while the weather has been so balmy, but now that it's cold and snowy and actually doing things that seem like winter outside, I'm in full hibernation mode. Lots of school happens on or near the sofa, buried in heaps of quilts, with hot cocoa and popcorn. The cocoa and popcorn make it a Hip and Fun School Party and not Boring Drudgery, or at least that's what I am trying to get them to believe.

I've discovered that a three-inch-long cuff on mittens is not nearly long enough to protect the tender arms. I think I'm just going to knit knee-length tube socks, and add a thumb hole. And by knee-length, I mean The Size To Fit From My Knee To My Toes, Even For Elliott. I am also going to only knit them in one color and size, so that there is always a pair.

Does anybody else struggle with mittens? They make me crazy. We seem to be able to keep our hats, but it's the mittens that give me problems. I just know they have formed a little mitten conspiracy and are planning to go into hiding. Stinkers.

A fuzzy-footed little man has just climbed into my lap, asking me to "daw a bawoon pease." I think I'll oblige him.

some items for your consideration

1. My hips are more cooperative than they were at this time last week. Thanks so much for your kind words and emails. The Internet People are so lovely.

2. I have developed a new marketing strategy for the Diva Cup, and it is called OCCUPY MY VAGINA. If the Diva Cup people aren't interested, I may pitch the p.0.r.n people. Those guys need at least one new idea. Or so I hear from the guy that does lights for The Mister.

3. I am not actually going to pitch any of my ideas, clever or otherwise, to the p.0.rn people. Just for the record. Real live people who live their real lives near me have been confrontational regarding my beliefs lately, and I would hate to cause any more disruption to them. And to me. But I will totally tweet this post tomorrow and I will @DivaCup because at the very least they should send me a spare to keep in my glove box JUST IN CASE.

4. Henry turned five. This is the first time in my life that only 25% of my short people are preschool-aged, and fortunately for me, I have 2.25 more years to enjoy it.

5. On Thursday, The Mister and I will celebrate our tenth anniversary. I use the word 'celebrate' loosely. What I really mean is that he will go to work before I get up, and I will likely disrupt him at work by phoning him four times to ask inordinately stupid questions highlighted only by my complete inability to form a cohesive sentence with my mouth and my surprising ability to completely forget every single word in my working vocabulary. After which time he will find himself working very late because it's Advent and he works for the Wesleyans and they are quite the overachievers. And then I will go to bed because it is very late and he will go to bed when he gets home.

And perhaps there will be a snacky treat for me when I get up the next day after he has gone to work, and perhaps I will only phone him three times instead of four. Because if I have learned anything in the last ten years, it is that The Mister's Love Language is NOT CALLING WHEN HE'S AT WORK FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS SACRED. (That Language applied when he did not even work for Jesus in an official capacity, too.)

6. I have decided that when we are enormously wealthy and before the short people go away to be Responsible For Themselves, I will consider it mandatory that I have my own dedicated employee who will anticipate my wants regarding coffee, handle all of the laundry, and mop and vacuum every single day in addition to every time the people maliciously drop crunchy food items on the floor and crunch the items into a bajillion pieces with their feet. I would also like a giant-sized ironing board so I can iron enormous pieces of fabric without having to deal with the stupid pointy end of the ironing board.

7. Happy Tuesday, y'all.

wishbone

My hips are on strike this week, along with my right thumb and a tiny, but crucial place in my lower back. Most of the time I can stand up straight like a normal person, but sometimes I just cannot.

I am easily embarrassed, which might come as a surprise to some; I am horribly self-conscious. I use smart-ass comments and self-deprication to diffuse and hide. But this. There is no witty anything that will make me forget that my body doesn't work right. There is no joke here, nothing humourous whatsoever. There is no hiding.

I cleaned part of my living room today, removed the toys, reclaimed flat surfaces, filled the giveaway bag and a trash bag. It was less than an hour's worth of work, and I couldn't do any more. Didn't vacuum, didn't dust, didn't even take the trash outside.

In everything, give thanks.

Oh God, I am having a hard time giving thanks. I am sad that I am not able to do my job well, I resent the pain and the hindrances and the exhaustion. I want to do and serve and be able. I want to be able. I want to be able-bodied, to do and walk and work and play. I want to see the point of my current state; how do I use my pain for good?

I am thankful for my husband and our short people, for dear ones that lend an ear or a sponge and elbow grease. I am thankful for our home and the food we eat and that The Mister has secured his dream job and is happier than I've seen him in the ten years we have been married.

I have so much to be thankful for, I know this in my deepest spirit. I rejoice in these things, but even in the midst of that I feel weighed down by this frustrating disease. I want there to be something good to come from this. It doesn't need to be a big or important or revolutionary, a tiny quiet something would be just as lovely. Please. And thank you.

so that's new.

check this out.

i like to call it proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.

i'll be posting on odd-numbered days.

why? because i can.

today.

Today Jon starts his new-new job, and he has the day off. Pretty sweet, if you ask me. He was hired by a big church in the Buffalo area and is their audio engineer. And he is playing a part in the Christmas movie. The church makes a Christmas movie. BECAUSE IT'S EASIER.

Today we will school, and I will watch as other people rake my lawn.

Today I will launder things, and I will fold and put away one load at a time. I may only do one load of laundry, but drawers will be in drawers.

Today I will not make dinner. I will make coffee and bread.

Today I will think about knitting and checking things off my Sewing List of Doom. I should probably rename it so I am able to actually check items off the list.