You know those weekends that leave you tired but oddly refreshed? Yeah.
Friday night we had the missionaries over. They always, no matter who, where, what, or how you are, ask whether there's anything they can do to help you. We've always said no after a polite pause where we pretended to ponder the question. However, Man's shoulder prevents him from doing some things around the house like lifting entertainment centers and it's nice to have strapping young lads willing to lend a hand.
My beautiful, wee girl-children don't need as much sleep as their old mom and they go to bed early besides. We moved into this house a year and a half ago in the spring and unwittingly put them into the coldest room. Couple that with two windows that seem to catch every vibration of the 0630 Reveille and you end up with a 0632 Reveille for one tired mom in the form of two giggling, shivering, bickering lumps fighting over who gets to lay directly on top of me and who gets to wiggle into the warm spot at the small of my back. Even if I kick them out of bed so I can doze until my 7:30 alarm, they can't reach the cereal and their rumbling stomachs soon get the better of their good natures and my rest. I've considered leaving some sort of small food offering on the table overnight, as a Breakfast option to be followed by Second Breakfast after I wake up, to buy me some time. The fear of pests has prevented any action in this direction.
At any rate, warmth and less noise has meant a weekend of little girls leaving us alone until 0800. Bliss, I tell you. Even if we only have a few more months to enjoy this arrangement, it's worth it and I don't have to grit my teeth and remind myself why it would be unethical to dose them with Nyquil every eve during tooth care time.
It's also a smaller room which suits the mass of their possessions and persons.
Tag has also needed less space. I considered putting him into the room in which his sisters now live, but that seemed to be a little tight. He has shelves and a desk and a powerful need for a room that's calming and safe. First thing he did when he moved into the little girls' old room was take the butterflies off the wall. It's a cozier fit and he no longer shares a room when the pantry and some miscellaneous storage. The one closet is easier to close, which is important to him since it "freaks me out, mom." The room he was in before has closets that have to be beaten shut.
So now we're all happier with the current arrangement. I'm glad for the extra rest we've been getting.
Yesterday we went to a ward Christmas Party where the food was a little ugh but the company was great. Someone actually cooked bacon and then kept it warm in a crockpot... it was spooned on to plates. I reiterate: ugh. Tag asked Santa for a motorcycle, Freida asked for a birthday, and Pebbles asked for a flashlight. Princess was too old for such foolishness and uttered a tween harrumph at the thought of visiting with the patient, old elf, but happily made reindeer candy canes and sugar cookies.
We set out to visit my sister in law and had a blast! Clam chowder for lunch and then we decorated cookies. Her husband "went out and got a deer" because our state is so thick with the critters that you can drive 10 mins down the road and bow hunt, field dress, and return with your trophy in a mere two hours. The cookies were exceptionally delicious and it was the first time I've ever seen a fresh kill that close before. Once again, it was some excellent company but the food was also excellent.
We stopped at the temple on the way home and enjoyed the breath taking glory of the Christmas lights. The colors were rich and magnificent but had the inexplicable understatement of LED lights. Every tree and bush around the parking lot was embraced with Christmas celebration. It was so crowded that evening that the stake center parking lot next door was filling up fast and parking lot attendants worked chilly shifts making sure that patrons of the temple had closer access than light voyeurs. Tag almost got creamed by a bus once and I found the voice of a crazed grisly bear ripped out of my chest in warning. It worked and he jumped back in time but we were both shaken.
A quick stop at Chipotle brought us home in time for a bite and a timely bed time.
All in all, a great weekend.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
Home shopping
Man wants to buy. He wants to buy soon. I'm nervous about that idea.
Here are the current plans: He has the opportunity to participate in occupational rehabilitation which will help guide him to a job that utilizes his various talents, which he will then either enjoy or have to swallow the tangy pill of realization that when you're upset at your ideal job it's time to buck up and get over it. He seems to be hopeful, which is nice.
So, part of the occupational therapy is training in the field of his choosing. Yes, more school. He is, even now, enrolled in an online college where he's taking the one capstone class he needs to graduate with a Bachelor's degree in liberal arts. I was a little upset by that, seeing as he could quintuple major in Chinese, Music, German, Computer Crap, and National Defense. Whatevs. At any rate, he's doing this online class in ethics, which has brought up some lively debate regarding euthanasia and the fundamentals of morals themselves. He'll be getting his degree some time in the spring at which point I'll be throwing a party to which you all are invited. Details to follow.
So, we'll be moving at some nebulous point in the future. The idea is that we'll move to where the job is. Failing a decent job, we'll move to Kansas which is where my people are. Now he wants to move to Colorado because the houses seem to be about $100k cheaper due to the tanking of the housing market out here which he says will make up for the difference in living expenses. Right, says I, but it's still far from my family. Well, replies he, at least it's way closer than any other place we've lived the past 4 years. Whatever, sigh I, living that far away has taught me longing and appreciation. Closer is better, but I'll go to CO if the job is good. A day's drive is much better than a full days' drive (9 hours vs almost 24 if you factor in hourly potty breaks for little people), but I've got this pit in my stomach over it that says "I don't wanna and you're not the boss of me!" That's the same pit that sometimes wins when I do my own menu planning and contemplate scrubbing behind the toilet.
The problem with moving where the job is that he won't be getting a job while doing the occupational rehabilitation. Really? Really. Makes me nervous? You bet your sweet Sosa. Which means that there isn't likely to be the sweet job in CO that'll make it ok for me to be far from home. All of this is still in the incubation/theoretical stage which means thatwe're still arguing about it none of the above may ever come to pass. He could land a sweet job in Europe or Iceland just in time for the cancer cure and common global language to shake hands. Who the heck knows.
Anyway, looking at the price difference on these houses has got me thinking. In real life, cheaper isn't always a good thing. A decent rule of thumb can be to determine the level of quality you want to go for, often associated with a brand, and then find the cheapest price on that exact item. Houses don't often have brands. When they do, they're out of my price range in any case. How do you know what the true value of a house is? How do you know it won't be a money pit? How do you know if you can afford it even if the price is great? Do I have to learn a new level of home maintenance when we buy a house? Dude, it's a headache.
In the mean time, Tag's teacher called in a tizzy the other day. Apparently he's still refusing to do his work in class so I've gone all Mr. Monk on him with checklists and consequences with if-then statements and loud lectures which (bless the little guy) he took with humility and resignation. It breaks my heart. It's looking like a strong possibility that he'll fail the 9 weeks, which could lead to failing the year, No Child Left Behind notwithstanding. He will, however, get an IEP which might help somewhat. Yes, ADHD is finally official, diagnosed, on the record, and snickering at us as we glare at it and frantically research our eyeballs out and work with at least four entities besides his normal doctor to come up with a way to get this child some academic and behavioral success. I don't want him to fail the second grade especially if it's because of frustration as opposed to a real intellectual deficiency. I wouldn't mind a dumb kid. Someone's gotta have them. But he isn't dumb by any stretch and my sense of justice is not ok with a failure of this nature when something could be done about it. Yes, I'm taking it personally. He really is trying, sits (mostly) nicely to do his homework at home and finishes it in reasonable time with only occasional intervention. The problem is primarily in the classroom and I'm not there to see it. All I have is the teacher's word against his and that poor lady has 28 kids who are all precious snowflakes wilting under the burden of his squeaky-wheel-ness.
I love my boy. He doesn't hurt anyone at school, doesn't break stuff, doesn't vandalize the bathroom, I've heard no reports of name calling or bullying. All he does is refuse to do academic work while his teacher hovers over him. I strongly suspect that we have a serious case of bad behavior cycle. Once again, whatevs.
Two classes have come back with A's, just waiting on one class to see if the GPA stays at a 4.0. I should know by this afternoon.
That's all from H land at the moment. Happy holidays, Reader!
Here are the current plans: He has the opportunity to participate in occupational rehabilitation which will help guide him to a job that utilizes his various talents, which he will then either enjoy or have to swallow the tangy pill of realization that when you're upset at your ideal job it's time to buck up and get over it. He seems to be hopeful, which is nice.
So, part of the occupational therapy is training in the field of his choosing. Yes, more school. He is, even now, enrolled in an online college where he's taking the one capstone class he needs to graduate with a Bachelor's degree in liberal arts. I was a little upset by that, seeing as he could quintuple major in Chinese, Music, German, Computer Crap, and National Defense. Whatevs. At any rate, he's doing this online class in ethics, which has brought up some lively debate regarding euthanasia and the fundamentals of morals themselves. He'll be getting his degree some time in the spring at which point I'll be throwing a party to which you all are invited. Details to follow.
So, we'll be moving at some nebulous point in the future. The idea is that we'll move to where the job is. Failing a decent job, we'll move to Kansas which is where my people are. Now he wants to move to Colorado because the houses seem to be about $100k cheaper due to the tanking of the housing market out here which he says will make up for the difference in living expenses. Right, says I, but it's still far from my family. Well, replies he, at least it's way closer than any other place we've lived the past 4 years. Whatever, sigh I, living that far away has taught me longing and appreciation. Closer is better, but I'll go to CO if the job is good. A day's drive is much better than a full days' drive (9 hours vs almost 24 if you factor in hourly potty breaks for little people), but I've got this pit in my stomach over it that says "I don't wanna and you're not the boss of me!" That's the same pit that sometimes wins when I do my own menu planning and contemplate scrubbing behind the toilet.
The problem with moving where the job is that he won't be getting a job while doing the occupational rehabilitation. Really? Really. Makes me nervous? You bet your sweet Sosa. Which means that there isn't likely to be the sweet job in CO that'll make it ok for me to be far from home. All of this is still in the incubation/theoretical stage which means that
Anyway, looking at the price difference on these houses has got me thinking. In real life, cheaper isn't always a good thing. A decent rule of thumb can be to determine the level of quality you want to go for, often associated with a brand, and then find the cheapest price on that exact item. Houses don't often have brands. When they do, they're out of my price range in any case. How do you know what the true value of a house is? How do you know it won't be a money pit? How do you know if you can afford it even if the price is great? Do I have to learn a new level of home maintenance when we buy a house? Dude, it's a headache.
In the mean time, Tag's teacher called in a tizzy the other day. Apparently he's still refusing to do his work in class so I've gone all Mr. Monk on him with checklists and consequences with if-then statements and loud lectures which (bless the little guy) he took with humility and resignation. It breaks my heart. It's looking like a strong possibility that he'll fail the 9 weeks, which could lead to failing the year, No Child Left Behind notwithstanding. He will, however, get an IEP which might help somewhat. Yes, ADHD is finally official, diagnosed, on the record, and snickering at us as we glare at it and frantically research our eyeballs out and work with at least four entities besides his normal doctor to come up with a way to get this child some academic and behavioral success. I don't want him to fail the second grade especially if it's because of frustration as opposed to a real intellectual deficiency. I wouldn't mind a dumb kid. Someone's gotta have them. But he isn't dumb by any stretch and my sense of justice is not ok with a failure of this nature when something could be done about it. Yes, I'm taking it personally. He really is trying, sits (mostly) nicely to do his homework at home and finishes it in reasonable time with only occasional intervention. The problem is primarily in the classroom and I'm not there to see it. All I have is the teacher's word against his and that poor lady has 28 kids who are all precious snowflakes wilting under the burden of his squeaky-wheel-ness.
I love my boy. He doesn't hurt anyone at school, doesn't break stuff, doesn't vandalize the bathroom, I've heard no reports of name calling or bullying. All he does is refuse to do academic work while his teacher hovers over him. I strongly suspect that we have a serious case of bad behavior cycle. Once again, whatevs.
Two classes have come back with A's, just waiting on one class to see if the GPA stays at a 4.0. I should know by this afternoon.
That's all from H land at the moment. Happy holidays, Reader!
Thursday, December 09, 2010
the delicious end
Oh, there are delicious ends. There are heels of fine bread, the last lukewarm sweetness of an herbal mocha, the last end woven into a deep, fluffy scarf, and a final exam that takes 30 mins to whip out.
I wrote until my hand shook, which wasn't much considering my generation Y upbringing. Then I sold back my text books and skipped down the hall with a whistle on my lips and a laugh in my throat. An odd combination, but I didn't care. The door to my freedom opened with a blast of frozen air that felt like baptism on my flushed face.
It was most welcome.
I'm taking spring off, unless I take just one online class. House hunting, job searching, school looking, but first, there is Christmas. I'm going to take off my shoes and take a hot bath.
Oh, and I had another book idea when Freida came to visit my bed at 3 am, complaining of her fear of crickets. It kept me up for an hour.
I wrote until my hand shook, which wasn't much considering my generation Y upbringing. Then I sold back my text books and skipped down the hall with a whistle on my lips and a laugh in my throat. An odd combination, but I didn't care. The door to my freedom opened with a blast of frozen air that felt like baptism on my flushed face.
It was most welcome.
I'm taking spring off, unless I take just one online class. House hunting, job searching, school looking, but first, there is Christmas. I'm going to take off my shoes and take a hot bath.
Oh, and I had another book idea when Freida came to visit my bed at 3 am, complaining of her fear of crickets. It kept me up for an hour.
Saturday, December 04, 2010
From my facebook page:
From my facebook updates:
For the first time in (mumble mumble) weeks, my house is almost clean. I'm sure the Chesapeake isn't thanking [me] for all the spraying and scrubbing, but neither are several trillion microscopic beasties.
Vacuuming in the blackness of space beneath furnishings, I'm very carefully curbing my curiosity about the blub-cha-clank going on in my long suffering vacuum. Was that a toy? A hair clip? No, don't think about it! FWOOMP!! Oh, crud, that had to have been a sock or a tissue... NO! Don't think about it. Crackling hiss! Sand. It had to have been. Or cracker crumbs. Rattling clink might have been money... No. No. Don't think about it.
I did end up taking those two finals yesterday. The psych final was my one and only chance (as far as I know), but the sociology test is a three striker, with the prof taking the highest score out of all three. He'll email on Monday to let me know if I need to take another whack at it, but with 38 points of extra credit to apply to a 100 point test, I'm feeling pretty darn good.
Last but certainly not least, my English final is this Thursday. It's going to be four questions regarding the plays A Doll's House by Henrik Ibsen and Fences by August Wilson. If you have the chance, A Doll's House is a completely haunting movie as well (1973 version), starring a startlingly young Anthony Hopkins and including the lady who plays Miss Prism in The Importance of Being Earnest.
It's felt really good to feel like I have the time and energy to give the house a good scrubbing. I've gone through a lot of cleaning supplies today and I may actually go through more than one whole vacuum bag. Of course the kids havn't been as enthusiastic as I, but everyone seems to breathe much more easily when you can stride through a room without kicking anything, or easily find towels and clothes and cups and forks. We're starting to get the rearrangement itch as we learn that the three youngest kids seem to have too much room. We're moving the spare room into the former master bedroom on one side, which is where Bren is living. We're going to get him a smaller bed and a smaller room and a room with fewer closets to worry about. So that's going to begin in earnest this week, and then we'll have missionaries over for dinner to do the heavy lifting since Man isn't up to that sort of thing anymore.
Also, the kids are getting older and wanting more money. So now I have to start calculating how much money I'm going to offer for extra chores. Hehe. The chores have worked very well in the past but they've been more sporadic. One time I charged Bren a lot of money to let him make a dinner on a night he didn't like what I made, but I let him do chores to earn it all back. We havn't repeated that since then, since the little stinker really needs to eat the food I make and I don't want him thinking he can just throw money at something he doesn't like to fix it. So I'm wondering what it is they can do for money that isn't something they should be doing for themselves or the family anyway. Claire should be doing her own laundry here pretty soon, I'm thinking at the beginning of the next school year. Basic yard care, dishes, caring for their own and public space, cleaning bathrooms, vacuuming, and cooking once in a while are all part of being in a family. So what's left?
Monday, November 29, 2010
WEBstraunt
I'll write a full review of my newest favorite website after the semester is over, but I just have to geek out about it for a moment.
I originally found WEBstaurant when I was looking for pizza screens. Since then I've fallen in love with it over and over again as I browse and dream. I want to open a bakery just to get my hands on all the wonderful goodness to be found on this amazing website!
Anyway, I wrote two reviews for the things I bought there, and they were both accepted! They're giving me a $2 credit for each review that they publish! I know it's only $4 but man, that's a new set of stainless steel measuring cups right there! What a great incentive to keep reviewing.
Hm... what else can I do with my $4? I'm oddly giddy over that tiny sum of money.
I originally found WEBstaurant when I was looking for pizza screens. Since then I've fallen in love with it over and over again as I browse and dream. I want to open a bakery just to get my hands on all the wonderful goodness to be found on this amazing website!
Anyway, I wrote two reviews for the things I bought there, and they were both accepted! They're giving me a $2 credit for each review that they publish! I know it's only $4 but man, that's a new set of stainless steel measuring cups right there! What a great incentive to keep reviewing.
Hm... what else can I do with my $4? I'm oddly giddy over that tiny sum of money.
Almost
The end of the semester is almost here.
It's almost Christmas.
It's almost time to visit family and friends.
Man is almost out of the Army (no disability rating yet).
The kids' long string of birthdays is almost here (Dec, Jan, Feb, April) and they all want parties.
I have a new story idea that I'm almost convinced I should start writing on right away. Almost.
I'm almost convinced that we need to swap three bedrooms in my house. Heh. I need to decide before I have the missionaries over for dinner, so I can get them to lift the furniture for me. They're always asking if there's anything they can do, and Man sure as heck can't lift.
I'm almost done Christmas shopping.
The kids are almost... no, not almost. The kids are sick, have been sick for a long time, and they're not better yet. Should that keep us home for Christmas? It might if they don't get better, and I can't tell you how awful I'd feel if any family got the lingering crud we're fighting.
All this almost is making me a little crazy. I'm so not used to much sugar anymore that when I sat and nibbled on Hershey's Kisses all day yesterday without eating real food, I went nuts. I suddenly have a lot of sympathy for those who suffer with bipolar disorder.
Two more class periods and one day full of finals. Yep, all of my finals are on the same day. ALL. That's six hours of hard core testing, man. And a lot of #2 pencil lead. Thank goodness there's only one hand written exam. The other two are a combined 160 multiple choice questions and the turn in of one take home essay test, which I've already completed. I might actually try to take the psych test early this week. Hm... time to get one that, I think. Wish me luck!
It's almost Christmas.
It's almost time to visit family and friends.
Man is almost out of the Army (no disability rating yet).
The kids' long string of birthdays is almost here (Dec, Jan, Feb, April) and they all want parties.
I have a new story idea that I'm almost convinced I should start writing on right away. Almost.
I'm almost convinced that we need to swap three bedrooms in my house. Heh. I need to decide before I have the missionaries over for dinner, so I can get them to lift the furniture for me. They're always asking if there's anything they can do, and Man sure as heck can't lift.
I'm almost done Christmas shopping.
The kids are almost... no, not almost. The kids are sick, have been sick for a long time, and they're not better yet. Should that keep us home for Christmas? It might if they don't get better, and I can't tell you how awful I'd feel if any family got the lingering crud we're fighting.
All this almost is making me a little crazy. I'm so not used to much sugar anymore that when I sat and nibbled on Hershey's Kisses all day yesterday without eating real food, I went nuts. I suddenly have a lot of sympathy for those who suffer with bipolar disorder.
Two more class periods and one day full of finals. Yep, all of my finals are on the same day. ALL. That's six hours of hard core testing, man. And a lot of #2 pencil lead. Thank goodness there's only one hand written exam. The other two are a combined 160 multiple choice questions and the turn in of one take home essay test, which I've already completed. I might actually try to take the psych test early this week. Hm... time to get one that, I think. Wish me luck!
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Fun little project
I was fiddling around with blogs and started this little guy:
Something Clever and InconsisTent
Check out my fish!
I was thinking about doing that blog for product reviews. I don't want my blog to become a commercial but there are some consumer items I'd like to share and discuss, for better or worse. Amazon has a nice program that gives me the power to easily link pictures of what I'm preaching about, including a little photo carousel.
(My favorite part is the fish, which I may have to integrate into this blog as well.)
Something Clever and InconsisTent
Check out my fish!
I was thinking about doing that blog for product reviews. I don't want my blog to become a commercial but there are some consumer items I'd like to share and discuss, for better or worse. Amazon has a nice program that gives me the power to easily link pictures of what I'm preaching about, including a little photo carousel.
(My favorite part is the fish, which I may have to integrate into this blog as well.)
Reading
In an effort to understand and work with the people with whom I live, I'm currently reading Men Are from Mars and Women Are from Venus, and The Parenting Breakthrough.
I read Mars/Venus quite some time ago and thought it made a lot of sense. This time through it's making me mad. It has a lot of anti-feminism undertones that just rub me the wrong way. The author comes across as some sort of male apologist who's trying to coax volatile yet delicate females into getting along with their mates.
I understand that when he says feelings can't always be rational and logical that he is NOT saying that they never are. That first sentence is the one that gets to me. Perhaps it's an irrational feeling of irk that cannot make logical sense because life has me by the nads and I'm incapable, due to my female nature, of calming down and making complete sense. Jerk.
The Parenting Breakthrough is a really great book though. The author is funny and visual, laughs at herself and has a lot of very practical solutions to teaching children that have astounded me. I didn't know how to be a mother or even a babysitter when I brought home my first beautiful, impossibly tiny and delicate baby. I didn't know what to do about kids or babies or homemaking or finances. I was so afraid of finances that I just spent as little money as possible when I got out on my own. It kept me out of debt, but money didn't do me any favors either. I'm learning more about how to be a practical adult from this book than any other book I've read. Have you ever heard of something called E-Trade or Ameritrade? The stock market has long been one blurry mystery to me, something that accountants and rich people who employ accountants know about and something you need $1 million to even begin to play with. The author talked about buying a small online trading account for her teenager to give him a feel for what stock markets are like. What??
Obviously I'm getting more out of one book than the other and I switch between them as I get too irritated to keep reading with interest (Mars/Venus) or too overwhelmed by what I don't even know about myself (Breakthrough) like interior decorating as a means of teaching, life plans, and investment banking.
I feel too tired to roll up my sleeves right now. I feel like I don't have the strength to do much of anything besides get food on the table once a day and churn out homework and tests like a cross eyed pasta machine. Similes that don't make sense? Largely inexplicable irritability? At least one hot bath a day to scorch some endorphins into my screaming mind? Dragging myself through exercise only to want a nap right afterward? Check, check, check, double check.
And now I must go grocery shopping. Work on the van plus getting Man into one last college that only requires that he take one class and transfer his 250+ credits in before FINALLY getting a Bachelor's degree (which may actually turn out to be a double or triple major, thanks to the military) means beans and rice for a week or two, but really, it doesn't get much better than a good pot of beans and basmati rice. I thank God for times when I can really enjoy simple things.
I read Mars/Venus quite some time ago and thought it made a lot of sense. This time through it's making me mad. It has a lot of anti-feminism undertones that just rub me the wrong way. The author comes across as some sort of male apologist who's trying to coax volatile yet delicate females into getting along with their mates.
"To expect a man who is in his cave instantly to become open, responsive, and loving is as unrealistic as expecting a woman who is upset immediately to calm down and make complete sense. It is a mistake to expect a man to always be in touch with his loving feelings just as it is a mistake to expect a woman's feelings to always be rational and logical." (Mars/Venus, page 37)
I understand that when he says feelings can't always be rational and logical that he is NOT saying that they never are. That first sentence is the one that gets to me. Perhaps it's an irrational feeling of irk that cannot make logical sense because life has me by the nads and I'm incapable, due to my female nature, of calming down and making complete sense. Jerk.
The Parenting Breakthrough is a really great book though. The author is funny and visual, laughs at herself and has a lot of very practical solutions to teaching children that have astounded me. I didn't know how to be a mother or even a babysitter when I brought home my first beautiful, impossibly tiny and delicate baby. I didn't know what to do about kids or babies or homemaking or finances. I was so afraid of finances that I just spent as little money as possible when I got out on my own. It kept me out of debt, but money didn't do me any favors either. I'm learning more about how to be a practical adult from this book than any other book I've read. Have you ever heard of something called E-Trade or Ameritrade? The stock market has long been one blurry mystery to me, something that accountants and rich people who employ accountants know about and something you need $1 million to even begin to play with. The author talked about buying a small online trading account for her teenager to give him a feel for what stock markets are like. What??
Obviously I'm getting more out of one book than the other and I switch between them as I get too irritated to keep reading with interest (Mars/Venus) or too overwhelmed by what I don't even know about myself (Breakthrough) like interior decorating as a means of teaching, life plans, and investment banking.
I feel too tired to roll up my sleeves right now. I feel like I don't have the strength to do much of anything besides get food on the table once a day and churn out homework and tests like a cross eyed pasta machine. Similes that don't make sense? Largely inexplicable irritability? At least one hot bath a day to scorch some endorphins into my screaming mind? Dragging myself through exercise only to want a nap right afterward? Check, check, check, double check.
And now I must go grocery shopping. Work on the van plus getting Man into one last college that only requires that he take one class and transfer his 250+ credits in before FINALLY getting a Bachelor's degree (which may actually turn out to be a double or triple major, thanks to the military) means beans and rice for a week or two, but really, it doesn't get much better than a good pot of beans and basmati rice. I thank God for times when I can really enjoy simple things.
Monday, November 08, 2010
Chalk mat
This is for Amber!
Here is a link to a tutorial for a chalkboard mat that's a bit more stylin' than the ones I made, but the visuals may be useful.
Link.
Here is a reworded version from the directions I used (clarifying, mostly, and getting rid of some yokel grammar).
Supplies:
1 piece 10x13.5" chalk cloth (aka blackboard cloth)
2 pieces 12x20" cotton fabric
1 piece 5x12" cotton fabric
1 piece 12x20" fleece (either fusible or baste it into place)
1 piece 12" elastic
1 piece 12x20" fusible interfacing
Chalk, half a sponge
First half:
Pin or fuse the fleece to wrong side of one 12x20" piece of cotton.
Second half:
Fuse interfacing to wrong side of the other 12x20" piece of cotton fabric (to prevent the fabric from bunching when sewing on the chalk cloth. A simple way to overcome this is to use a quilting foot if you happen to have one). On the piece of cotton that's 5x12", finish one long edge by folding over twice and then top stitching. Align the unfinished 12" edge with one of the 12" edges of the larger piece of cotton, mark the center, and stitch straight from the edge to make a divider for the pockets. Each pocket should still be loose except for the one stitch in the center. Center the chalk cloth in the remaining open area of your fabric and zigzag stitch around the edge of the chalk cloth. Pay close attention to any bunching. Pin the ends of the elastic to the edge directly opposite of the center stitching on the pocket, making sure the loop of the elastic is toward the center of the fabric.
Putting it together:
Put both pieces of cotton right sides together, pinning the edges. Sew together with 1/4-1/2" seam or whatever seam securely catches all of your edges (this was a Souper Saturday project, so it wasn't too precise) leaving a window on one of the long edges open for turning (preferably away from the pockets so they get caught in the initial stitching). Turn and top stitch around the entire edge. I ended up not top edging the pockets on one of them because the fabric was too thick for my machine. It turned out fine.
They're cute, easy, infinitely customizable, very inexpensive relative to color wonder, compact, and durable. I want to make a couple more for the older kids but this time actually use a cutting mat and some decent fabric scissors.
Here is a link to a tutorial for a chalkboard mat that's a bit more stylin' than the ones I made, but the visuals may be useful.
Link.
Here is a reworded version from the directions I used (clarifying, mostly, and getting rid of some yokel grammar).
Supplies:
1 piece 10x13.5" chalk cloth (aka blackboard cloth)
2 pieces 12x20" cotton fabric
1 piece 5x12" cotton fabric
1 piece 12x20" fleece (either fusible or baste it into place)
1 piece 12" elastic
1 piece 12x20" fusible interfacing
Chalk, half a sponge
First half:
Pin or fuse the fleece to wrong side of one 12x20" piece of cotton.
Second half:
Fuse interfacing to wrong side of the other 12x20" piece of cotton fabric (to prevent the fabric from bunching when sewing on the chalk cloth. A simple way to overcome this is to use a quilting foot if you happen to have one). On the piece of cotton that's 5x12", finish one long edge by folding over twice and then top stitching. Align the unfinished 12" edge with one of the 12" edges of the larger piece of cotton, mark the center, and stitch straight from the edge to make a divider for the pockets. Each pocket should still be loose except for the one stitch in the center. Center the chalk cloth in the remaining open area of your fabric and zigzag stitch around the edge of the chalk cloth. Pay close attention to any bunching. Pin the ends of the elastic to the edge directly opposite of the center stitching on the pocket, making sure the loop of the elastic is toward the center of the fabric.
Putting it together:
Put both pieces of cotton right sides together, pinning the edges. Sew together with 1/4-1/2" seam or whatever seam securely catches all of your edges (this was a Souper Saturday project, so it wasn't too precise) leaving a window on one of the long edges open for turning (preferably away from the pockets so they get caught in the initial stitching). Turn and top stitch around the entire edge. I ended up not top edging the pockets on one of them because the fabric was too thick for my machine. It turned out fine.
They're cute, easy, infinitely customizable, very inexpensive relative to color wonder, compact, and durable. I want to make a couple more for the older kids but this time actually use a cutting mat and some decent fabric scissors.
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
author
Princess: Mom, how do you spell author?
Me: [we live in a loud house, I didn't hear her very well] What do you mean? Arthur or author?
Princess: Author, like the guy who drew the map.
Me: [distracted] Um, c-a-r-t-o-g-r....
Princess: Wait, what?
Me: Cartographers draw maps, not authors.
Princess: [grunt in exasperation] Never mind!!!
Yeah, wrong teaching moment.
Me: [we live in a loud house, I didn't hear her very well] What do you mean? Arthur or author?
Princess: Author, like the guy who drew the map.
Me: [distracted] Um, c-a-r-t-o-g-r....
Princess: Wait, what?
Me: Cartographers draw maps, not authors.
Princess: [grunt in exasperation] Never mind!!!
Yeah, wrong teaching moment.
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