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Knit One Purl What?
When I was newly married, nearly 20-years ago, one day my husband came to me with a sock in his hand and a hopeful look on his face. The sock you see, had a hole in it. He gave it to me and like the good wife that I was, I smiled sweetly, gently took it from his hand and immediately tossed it into the trash.
Buy a new one. I said.
That pretty much sums up my abilities and attitude toward domestic craftiness. Crafty is not my forte. I keep a neat, clean house and even cook, occasionally. I love to celebrate, decorate (with pre-made, store bought items of course) and bake. BUT I do not darn.
I don’t sew. I don’t needle point. I don’t crotchet and I do not knit. That would require sitting patiently for an extended period of time. Not going to happen. I absolutely admire those who do, truly, I do, but -I– do not.
What astounds me, is that my eleven-year old daughter does! Knit that is. How can this be? It’s certainly not in the genes. And yet, it’s not just a passing phase either, like the finger-knitting was. That ended after about 100-feet of straight and narrow knitting (enough to wrap around a staircase banister about five times, like garland only it’s very thin, colorful and made of yarn) and about thirty finger-knitted neck warmers she and her friends made to sell at school. No, this is different. She’s using needles, has more than one set and even asked me to buy her a pair of bamboo ones. She’s completed a wrap, a scarf, a small blanket and has even knitted jewelry — a necklace and wrist band. She learned last fall and there’s no sign of her stopping; it’s a knitting-frenzy if you will. Dare I say, she’s got the knack-for-knitting. And she’s at it, every free minute she gets.
In the car, at school…
In the kitchen….
Even on the baseball field!
I’ve written before about her unique and trend setting abilities, how I want to be just like her when I grow up. How proud I am of her.
But this knitting thing kind of throws me for a loop. (Pun intended)
Truth be told, I couldn’t be happier.
Tell me, do your children have talents that surprise you?
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Moms: Their Insanity, Their Super-Powers and Their Blessings
“Mothers are all slightly insane.”
― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye
It’s true.
Once you’ve brought your bundle-of-joy home and realized that the temporary sleep adjustment period is really sleep deprivation with staying power– like, a few years staying power — you barely catch a few much needed ‘ZZZs before you find yourself entering the realm of unnatural attachments; your child’s affinity for a favorite toy, binky or blanket perhaps, turns well, ugly. Your little tike’s obsession usually rears it’s head for the first time, when you forget, it, which is usually on a very long car ride and it’s usually, way too late to turn around and go back for it after you finally realize what it is, that your child is convulsing over in their car seat. It, you quickly learn, is the one and only thing that can make long car rides enjoyable or absolute hell, lest you forget it. Shortly after this stage comes the era of repetition which could last for several years. Be it a word, a song, a story, a movie or all of the above, moms have heard it, sang it, told it, re-told it and watched it, over and over and over again, a zillion times, all before their little one has reached the ripe old age of five.
And that is only the beginning. Slightly insane is an understatement. 
Another truth: the myth that moms have super-powers, is not a myth.
There is a certain inexplicable, ESP-like knowing that comes with the insanity of motherhood that all moms possess in varying degrees.
My mother could see it in our eyes.
L – I – E, she would say, I see it right there in your eyes. Now, tell me the truth.
How could a kid argue with that? The jig was up and the truth was told. It’s all in the eyes and she also had eyes in the back of her head.
When my kids are in awe of, or aghast by, something I know that they thought was in their own little vault, I merely look at them and say,
Who am I?
Over the years, they’ve learned there is only one correct response to that question when I ask it.
The Mama.
That’s right. I am, The Mama. They know it and The Mama, knows.
It’s true, mom’s just know things, especially when their kids need them. There’s an instinctive inner nagging that just doesn’t quit when one of my kids is in need.
It’s a super-power that comes with giving birth; a natural brain-radar for knowing or being in the right place at the right time with the right people for finding out. It never fades either. To this day, when I‘m upset or in need or retreating and trying to hide from the world for whatever reason, I can be certain of one thing: my mom will call or show up or find me in my darkest hour. And no matter how much grief I give her or how much I lean or unload on her, she is ALWAYS there for me — still.
At 74, she continues to be an amazing power of example.
When I count my blessings and I often do, the fact that she is still with me and such an integral part of my and my children’s lives is right up there with my children’s health. Being a mom is not only a blessing in my life, it is the biggest privilege of my life, an honor that I don’t take for granted and am constantly working to improve upon. Motherhood requires insane amounts of patience, understanding and perseverance and all too often, I find myself falling short or being short when what was really needed was a little more time or just an ear and not an opinion. The beauty of being a mom thankfully, is that it is a lifetime gig with a chance to do better tomorrow.
Children are adaptable, forgiving and full of surprising, heartwarming rewards.
Recently, it occurred to me, that every time I make dinner for my 13-year old son, he “thanks” me before leaving the table.
Thanks for dinner, mom.
And the other evening, my 11-year old daughter didn’t want me to spend too much money on knitting needles for her. Knitting needles! I know NOTHING about knitting. I bought them anyway.
“Oh mom, these needles are so beautiful – thank you!”
Seriously!?
Making dinner for my son is a pleasure and I was spending money on my daughter’s new hobby and passion for knitting, not playing video games, KNITTING!
It can’t possibly get any better than that.
Here’s to moms EVERYWHERE, their insanity, their super-powers and their blessings!
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Dinner For Two
I have a standing dinner-date every Thursday with the same guy for the past five months.
Truthfully, I was the initiator. In fact, at first he resisted. I insisted. And although it started out a little shaky and often felt tentative right up until the last-minute, somehow, he always “showed-up“. In the beginning clearly, it was to appease me, more than likely out of a feeling of obligation. I understood. I gave him space. There was a lot of silence at the beginning too, not exactly awkward; more like “dead air”. I let him breathe and get used to the idea of spending time alone with me. I searched my brain for stimulating conversation and tried to bring up things I thought would interest him.
I have an amazing relationship with my daughter for which I am very grateful. My reluctant dinner-date — who also happens to be my 13-year old son — and I, have struggled quite a bit over the last two years. Living life on life’s terms and dealing with all that’s come with it, has taken its toll, created confusion, distortion and a disconnect between us.
Grappling with how to get him back, I tossed, turned and weighed many possible scenarios over and over in mind. I kept coming back to this weekly, dedicated time and space, this Dinner For Two.
At some point, you have to listen to your heart, trust your instincts and take a leap of faith. I had faith in him and me and the mothering and nurturing I’d done for the first eleven years of his life. And even though it was very difficult for the first few months, I never gave up.
Neither did he.
You can bore through hard things and get to the other side, as long as you don’t give up.
Patience and perseverance paid off. Time has healed.
It occurred to me this week, that now, it’s a given and there’s no doubt that we’ll have dinner on Thursday, just him and me. It’s become part of the schedule, part of the “routine” of our week.
It’s something I look forward too. It’s not however, something I take for granted — not for one second. I cherish and appreciate this time well spent; this time where I can just be my boy’s mom.
There are no more awkward moments of silence. Our discussions spread across a wide range of topics these days. I’ve learned a lot about various basketball, football and baseball players as of late. He asks me about my day and my interests. He’s forthcoming with the happenings at school.
It’s not perfect, nothing is but we’re connected again and I’m grateful.
“A mother’s love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity, it dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.” — Agatha Christie
Photo Credits #1 & #2: Google Images
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Boy, Oh Boy!
While it’s absolutely true that a pregnant woman wishes only for a healthy baby at the end of those “joyful” nine months of having your body completely taken over by a foreign being, it is just as absolutely true that pregnancy does weird and inexplicable things to a woman’s way of thinking. Crazy thoughts invade an otherwise rational woman’s mind and have a way of resting there awhile – at least they did for me, anyway. During the majority of my pregnancy with my first child, I was convinced, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I was having a girl. I just knew it. There really wasn’t another option. No further discussion required — thank you. In my mind’s eye, she was going to be just like me. By the time I was rounding out my seventh month, I had her name and future completely mapped out in my head. I fantasized often about the things we would do together; what I would show, teach and tell her. It was a neat little perfect package, wrapped sweetly in pink, frilly, feminine love.
It wasn’t until much too close to the eleventh hour of my due date that panic struck one day while I was trying to picture what my baby girl would look like and imagine her holding my hand, when the truly frightening thought occurred to me…
What if it’s a boy? A boy?? A boy.
It couldn’t possibly be a boy. I knew nothing about boys –let alone caring for and raising one. I dismissed the thought, immediately.
What came next of course, was the blessing of a healthy, baby boy whom I instantly fell in love with. In addition to the miracle of birth, there is that instantaneous bond that forms the moment mother and child see each other for the very first time, it’s the bond that creates an unconditional love, forever. That once horrifying “what if” thought evaporated as if it never existed and the focus immediately turned to…
I love you and I will try my best for you — always.
That’s how it was for me anyway. And so, the journey began. Enter Spiderman, Scooby-doo, pirates, dirt and worms in my fridge; fishing camp, building rockets and traps, collecting bugs, catching frogs and conducting experiments. The journey is thirteen years in the making now and includes football, soccer, basketball and baseball too.
Between two kids and three teams, practice and games, I’m either on a baseball or a soccer field three or four times a week these days, not exactly what I envisioned when I first began to fantasize about my children, better for sure and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Besides, a few years after the boy arrived I found myself rounding out my seventh month of a second pregnancy, this time, fantasizing about the brothers that would build an empire. In my mind’s eye, it was a solid little package, neatly wrapped in bold testosterone.
I was certain of it.
Until of course, she appeared, all soft and sweet and smiling-like.
A girl! She was a girl! What on earth would I do with a girl??
Tell me, were you surprised or did you find out what the gender of your child would be?
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Wild Thing, She Makes My Heart Sing!
Talk about taking the world on with a smile…..
How about the 9-yr old who does it everyday and isn’t even trying? I’m talking about the same one whose first kiss was from a dolphin and who swims with sea lions. No inhibitions. Although she was born with a tooth in her mouth, her hair did not start growing until she was two and even then, it was only at a snail’s pace. People mistook her for a boy until she was four, even if she was wearing a pink dress. Her first haircut wasn’t until she was six. At nine she happily struts her stuff in her older brother’s hand-me-downs. She never wears matching socks and only has one ear pierced. If there is a revolt at school, she will be the leader, ever speaking her mind. She has a healthy disregard for authority. She once devised a plan for her and her peers to escape the school’s playground at the injustice of having a “made-up” game, banned. (Think Lord of the Flies.) They were going to take the city’s Loop Bus……. somewhere. I’m thankful she had no money.
This child actually smiles when she’s sleeping. No lie. And yes, she wakes up smiling too. Joyful. That’s the word that comes to mind. A blessing. She is a modern-day Pollyanna, not only drinking from the cup of kindness but always sharing it too. I’m often amazed at the wisdom that comes from such a youthful mind. I am equally humbled when she tells me everything is going to be alright and I believe her. She’s inspirational. I used to say, when I grow up I want to be just like her but now I say, whenever I’m ready to stop being so grown-up, I’d like to be just like her.
Sometimes you need only look in the room at the end of the hall for a reason to keep trying to take the world on with a smile.
Mayhem Makers
“Wild thing you make my heart sing. You make every thang…….. groovy!” The Troggs
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Striving to live life on life's terms while taking the world on with a smile.
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Taking The World On With A Smile! 